Each rising agony, each dreadful grace,
Yet warm transplanting to his Saviour’s face.
Oh, glorious theft! O nobly wicked draught!
With its full charge of death each feature fraught!
Such wondrous force the magic colours boast,
From his own skill he starts, in horror lost.
On a handsome Idiot. BY MR. CONGREVE.
When Lesbia first I saw, so heavenly fair,
With eyes so bright, and with that awful air,
I thought my heart, which durst so high aspire,