And, to the Charmer, reconcile the Saint?
Tho’ Smiles and Tears obey thy moving Skill,
And Passion’s ruffled Empire waits thy Will?
Tho’ thine the fansy’d Fields of flow’ry Wit,
Thine, Art’s whole Pow’r, in Nature’s Language writ!
Thine, to convey strong Thought, with modest Ease,
And, copying Converse, teach its Style to please?
Tho’ thine each Virtue, that a God cou’d lend?
Thine, ev’ry Help, that ev’ry Heart, can mend?
’Tis Thine in vain!——Thou wak’st a dying Land;