To Miss Brunton

That darling of the Tragic Muse,
When Wrangham sung her praise,
Thalia lost her rosy hues,
And sicken'd at her lays:

But transient was th' unwonted sigh;
For soon the Goddess spied
A sister-form of mirthful eye,
And danc'd for joy and cried:

'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame,
The fates have given to you!
Still bid your Poet boast her name;
I have my Brunton too.'