Deep lines of honor all can hit,
Or mark out a superior wit;
Consummate goodness all can show
And where such graces shine below:
But the more tender strokes to trace,
To express the promise of a face,
When but the dawnings of the mind.
We from an air unripen'd find;
Which altering, as new moments rise.
The pen or pencil's art defies;
When flesh and blood in youth appears,
Polish'd like what our marble wears;
Fresh as that shade of opening green,
Which first upon our groves is seen;
Enliven'd by a harmless fire,
And brighten'd by each gay desire;
These nicer touches would demand
A Cowley's or a Waller's hand,
To explain, with undisputed art,
What 'tis affects the enlighten'd heart,
When every darker thought gives way,
Whilst blooming beauty we survey;
To shew how all that's soft and sweet.
Does in the fair Serena meet;
To tell us with a sure presage,
The charms of her maturer age.