| Citation |
AWM.730.005
10-19 Feb 1730:21-22 (528)
TO MR. SMIBERT, ON THE SIGHT OF HIS OWN PICTURE.
Ages our land a barb'rous desert stood,
And salvage nations howl'd in eve'ry wood;
No laurel'd art e're the rude region smil'd,
Nor blest religion dawn'd amidst the wild;
Dulness and tyranny, confederate, reign'd.
And ignorance her gloomy state maintain'd.
. . . [16 lines]
Each year succeeding the rude rust devours,
And softer arts lead on the following hours.
The tuneful nine begin to touch the lyre,
And flowing pencils light the living fire;
In the fair l'age new beauties learn to shine.
The thoughts to brighten and the style refine,
'Till the great year the finish'd period brought,
A Smibert painted and a -- wrote.
Thy fame, O Smibert, shall the muse rehearse;
And sing her sister art in softer verse.
. . . [18 lines]
But cease, fond muse, nor the rude lays prolong;
A thousand wonders must remain unsung,
Crowds of new beings lift their dawning heads,
In conscious forms, and animated shades.
. . . [25 more lines]
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