Classic Poem

Painter ! thy happy pencil well has caught,
And in this circle's magic fold comprest
Each charm the G RECIAN'S fabled fair possest:
The sweetly-serious eye, illum'd by thought;
The fascinating smile, with feeling fraught;
And vivid bloom, confirm thy wond'rous art:
Ah! could'st thou, too, immortal tints impart,
Such tints as hold the tusk of Time at nought,
Her faded cheek no future Age should shew,
Nor the vile dust, malign Oblivion strews,
Taint that soft bosom's everlasting snow:
Ah! Painter , vainly, thy divinest hues,
Presume a perfect likeness to bestow,
That task remains to fire the S ISTER -M USE !