And pours her plaintive Melody in vain.
Some veil’d Eliza (like the clouded Sun)
May here reside inglorious and unknown;
Some, like Augusta, might have rear’d a Son
To bless a Nation and adorn a Throne.
From Flatt’ry’s Lip to drink the Sweets of Praise,
In Wit and Charms with other Belles to vie,
In Circles to attract the partial Gaze
And view Their Beauty in th’ Admirer’s Eye
Their Lot forbids: nor does alone remove