To William Jackson, of Exeter, Esq.

J ACKSON ! whose Melodies—to Fancy's ear
Sweet prompters of the love-impassion'd Muse—
Her melting strains with eloquence infuse
That Verse despairs to reach!—The hope—the fear
Of amorous youth—and Beauty's glowing tear—
Assenting blushes, when the lips refuse—
The lov'd who fly—the Lover that pursues—
Confess thee— Minstrel of the heart; sincere
 In homage to the lyre, whose fairy note
With art conceal'd, for ev'ry shade of thought
Breathes an appropriate sound! Thy numbers tell
 A softer tale than musing Shenstone wrote,—
Or Emma's younger Bard enamour'd caught
From the wild sweetness of a ruder shell.
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