Near him a Widow’s mansion he survey’d—
The lovely mother of a lovelier Maid;
Not great their wealth, though they were proud to claim
Alliance with a house of noblest name. 40
Now, had I skill, I would right fain devise
To bring the highborn spinster to your eyes.
I could discourse of lip, and chin, and cheek;
But you would see no picture as I speak.
Such colours cannot—mix them as I may—
Paint you this nymph—We’ll try a different way.