Who has not heard the forked lightning fly,
Or feen the thunder crack along the sky?
In picture, fancy every organ fways,

We hear the painted fhepherd tune his lays;
Such is the force of mimic art which draws,
Amphion-like, even quarries to her laws!
Painting and Poetry, twin-fifters, vie
Thro' fancy's ear, to charm the ravish'd eye.
Beneath the plastic hand of Eloife

The timorous afpin trembles at the breeze,
Clear flows the brook beneath the fhining toy,
Which feems to work for Eloife with joy;
Here skuds the trout thro' fhades of fineft lawn,
There; o'er the velvet parks, the bounding fawn.
Here blooms a garden-there a fountain flows,
Here the pale lilly weds the crimson rofe;
Now twisted woodbines form a proud alcove,
Beneath whofe arch fhe rais'd a fhrine to Love,
Amid the graceful forms, which deck'd the fhrine,
Large as the life, young Abelard, was thine;
And in the train of beauteous nymphs, which fhone
Refplendent, Eloife had wrought her own;
She first in tap'ftry, ere the curious loom
Taught trees to wave their tops, and flowers to bloom,
Gave the bold figures to the ravish'd fight,
Where fhepherds fport, or warlike heroes fight;

Hence,

Hence, emulous, the fair fequefter'd maid
Still guides the Needle thro' the rich brocade;
Or, when warm love is prevalent o'er grace,
Breathes her fond paffion on a piece of lace;
For, ere the intermingling bobbins toil'd,
The brighter needle all their glories foil'd;
No fupplemental patterns then were known,
For Love or Fancy was the guide alone;
In rich embroidery Cupid tipt his dart,
While fage Minerva dignified the art.

CANTO

HUS, from the effays of a lovefick heart,

THU

Mechlin and Bruffels ftole their mimic art; Hence lace, with all its gay creation, rose, Effential ornament of belles and beaux, Ally of beautyfupplement of fenfe, And, next to fnuff, the orator's defence; Grac'd with this armour, if he wave his hand, Say, what plain fhirt his prowess can withstand? Not half fo ftrong the brilliant's fhining aid, When on the finger in full light display'd. So when the flag of Britain waves on high, And gives its streaming glories to the sky, All other flags fubmit, and ftrike their pride To the known emprefs of old ocean's tide. Nor pass we here the knitting-needle's aid, Once the delight of each induftrious maid:

In days of yore, near Nottingham's fair town,
Ere the wove flocking to the leg was known,
Young Leius, a Cantab, of learned fame,
Sigh'd for Kinnetta with a virtuous flame,
With unavailing paffion, long he ftrove
To win the icy virgin to his love;

In vain he fung, in vain he touch'd the lyre,
Or boafted fage Apollo as his fire,

Apollo's

Apollo's felf, in vain, to Daphne prov'd
The high deferts, thro' which he fruitless lov'd,
Like her, Kinetta fled the amorous fwain,
And he, like fage Apollo, wooed in vain ;
Tho' oft the laws of motion he explain'd,
And why velocity its end attain'd,

How the quick needles form'd the oblong squares,
Or what proportion time to motion bears,
Why the diameter of calf, and small,

By due gradations, cause the threads to fall,
Or, why the feam behind was like the Line,
Parting each segment of the fair defign.

Oft on his knee, imploring, would he beg
To tell, why Italy was call'd the leg;
Or, why fome fages held a fond difpute,
Affirming it was rather like a boot..
Deaf to his learning, on her work intent,
She fought the fafe retreat of winding Trent,
Or oft to Sherwood's foreft bent her way,
And to her knitting fung the sprightly lay.
Enrag'd, his philofophic heart was turn'd

To proud difdain, and whom he lov'd, he fcorn'd;
Within a wooden frame, by art divine,
Affifted by Apollo, and the Nine,
In order rang'd a thousand needles fhone,
A fhuttle thro' the woof was taught to run
With expedition, thus divinely taught,
With difappointed love and paffion fraught,

He

He firft, the ftocking wove within a loom,
Glorious difcovery! in his peaceful room,
His peaceful room the future scene of war,
Whofe arts ten thousand female hands debar
From honeft bread-fo Thracian women tore
Harmonious Orpheus, in the days of yore.
With hafty step, full to Kinetta's eyes,

Juft-finish'd, he display'd the new-born prize :

66

Now, fcornful maid, he cries, to wifdom's lore "Dare to prefer thy Knitting Needles more; "Thine and thy fifter females arts, proud fair, "For love defpis'd, shall vanish into air; "From an unhappy, but an injur❜d maid, "I learn'd the fecret to destroy thy trade; "I fpied Arachne's web thro' optic glass, "And faw where lines o'er lines tranfverfely pafs,

Enrag'd like her, she taught me first to know "The happy item of thine overthrow.”

Stung to the heart, fuperior merit aw'd
Kinetta's mind, and Leius feem'd a god,
The work ftupendous in the frame appear'd
Like magic, or as if divinely rear'd;
Now to Love's altar fhe fubmiffive bow'd,

Nor blush'd to own the new-born flame aloud,

With foften'd look the blooming youth fhe eyed, Her brow unarm'd with fupercilious pride,

Confcious