And with real dignity’s resistless sway, 335
Deserves the homage that we gladly pay.
Here in the social circle gaily meet
The polished ease that makes the hours so fleet;
Wit’s harmless play, and music’s tuneful spell,
That whisper’d magic the heart knows so well! 340
And the sweet pencil’s ever-pleasing trace,
Which makes eternal, beauty’s transient grace,
Here bids the flower in fresher bloom and hue,
On the fair page its flush of life renew;