To the Right Hon. the Marchioness of Donegall

Go, rescuing Volume, seek her gentle hands
Whose heart o’er every noble deed expands!
To such thy page inevitably dear,
Where Truth, resistless as Ithuriel’s spear,
From party-prejudice, malignant spleen,
And literary envy draws the screen,
Whose sophist reasoning, and detractive powers,
Satanic influence breath’d in Eden’s bowers;
Yet with some merits, pious, liberal, kind,
Held union strange in JOHNSON’S mighty mind.

Lo! all is day in this redeeming tome!
Again in light the amaranth garlands bloom;
And, as unveil’d appears each dark’ning aim,
Great in the lustre of his former fame,
Immortal MILTON stands to future times,
Nor sighing Goodness mourns his fancied crimes.

These leaves while graceful DONEGALL explores,
New pleasures shall augment her bosom’s stores;
Increase the happiness, that hourly swells
Where the soul’s sunshine, conscious Virtue, dwells.
And O! what virtue more unclouded beams
Than from her spotless life continual streams?
Virtue, that ’mid distinction’s dazzling rays,
And in the tempting and the dangerous days
Of blooming charms, and inexperienc’d youth,
Shone the bright pattern of connubial truth;
With growing lustre and with strength’ning powers
From life’s gay morning to its noontide hours.
What then was innocence and faith sincere,
The blush of modesty and pity’s tear,
Now glows with energies, that widely spread
Comfort on penury’s deserted head,
And guards that Worth, which rank and wealth behold
Change all their tinsel to Intrinsic Gold.