Thespia XXVII: Say, can the Muse with all her magic power

Say, can the Muse with all her magic power
Tho' every grace attends her fairy train,
Tho' She hath cull'd each bloom which decks the bower
Of Elegance, to ornament her strain.

Can She the soul of Hymeneal Love,
Can She its tender sympathies pourtray?
While Harmony expands her wings above,
And Passion yields to Friendship's steadier ray?

Ah no! 'tis Her's, the suffering Lover's tears,
His feverish hopes, and wild desires to paint,
His giddy transports, jealous doubts, and fears,
But who can trace the charms of full Content?
The soft complacence of the conscious heart
Mocks the rude touches of Poetic Art.