LINES

ON LADY W---- APPEARING AT THE EXHIBITION.


When lovely Delphine sought the crowded scene,
The painter's mimic pow'r no longer mov'd;
All turn'd to gaze upon her beauteous mien,
None envied her, for, as they look'd, they lov'd.

Amid the proud display of forms so fair,
Of each fine tint the pencil can impart,
Nature with rapture seem'd to lead her there,
To prove how she could triumph over Art.




LINES

WRITTEN AT BRIGHTON.


From Mirth's bright circle, from the giddy throng,
How sweet it is to steal away at eve,
To listen to the homeward fisher's song,
Whilst dark the waters of the ocean heave;--