To her Grace the Dutchess of Portland, with the foregoing Lines.

To her Grace the Dutchess of Portland, with the foregoing Lines.

'Tis theirs, who but to please aspire, On Fiction to employ the Lyre; Make Gods and Goddesses display The Splendor of the Nuptial Day.

To paint thee at the hallow'd Shrine, A solemn, glorious Scene! be Mine; Now lightly touch'd — Some other Hour, (If e'er the Cloud-dispelling Pow'r Remove the Damps, that chill my Vein) I'll trace the slight-drawn Lines again; Warm Col'ring on the Piece bestow, Till Life shall from the Pencil flow.

Lovely Bride! with Bliss be crown'd, Diffusing Happiness around: Beneficent, like Harley, shine; Like Henrietta, grace your Line.