OF THE BARONESS
D' H---, TO HER TWO DAUGHTERS.
BRIGHT nymphs, of NEWA'S banks the pride,
Receive, before we part,
For you, and your maternal guide,
The wishes of my heart!

Be every future good your lot!-
But what can fate do more?
Has nature any boon forgot
For you in all her store?

While, mids't the wreathes the arts have twin'd
Around your brows, we trace
That tender modesty of mind
That decorates the face;

Grac'd with such forms as RAPHAEL drew
Beneath his happiest star,
What is there left to ask for you,
But wish you-what you are?