LINES

_Suggested by a Picture of Two Females by Lionardo da Vinci._

(_By Mary Lamb_. 1804)

The Lady Blanch, regardless of all her lovers' fears, To the Urs'line convent hastens, and long the Abbess hears.

"O Blanch, my child, repent ye of the courtly life ye lead."

Blanch looked on a rose-bud and little seem'd to heed.

She looked on the rose-bud, she looked round, and thought On all her heart had whisper'd, and all the Nun had taught.

"I am worshipped by lovers, and brightly shines my fame, All Christendom resoundeth the n.o.ble Blanch's name.

Nor shall I quickly wither like the rose-bud from the tree, My queen-like graces shining when my beauty's gone from me.

But when the sculptur'd marble is raised o'er my head, And the matchless Blanch lies lifeless among the n.o.ble dead, This saintly lady Abbess hath made me justly fear, It nothing will avail me that I were worshipp'd here."

LINES

_On the Same Picture being Removed to make Place for a Portrait of a Lady by t.i.tian._

(_By Mary Lamb_. 1805)

Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?

Come, fair and pretty, tell to me, Who, in thy life-time, thou might'st be.

Thou pretty art and fair, But with the lady Blanch thou never must compare.

No need for Blanch her history to tell; Whoever saw her face, they there did read it well.

But when I look on thee, I only know There lived a pretty maid some hundred years ago.

LINES

_On the Celebrated Picture by Lionardo da Vinci, called The Virgin of the Rocks._

(? 1805)

While young John runs to greet The greater Infant's feet, The Mother standing by, with trembling pa.s.sion Of devout admiration, Beholds the engaging mystic play, and pretty adoration; Nor knows as yet the full event Of those so low beginnings, From whence we date our winnings, But wonders at the intent Of those new rites, and what that strange child-worship meant.

But at her side An angel doth abide, With such a perfect joy As no dim doubts alloy, An intuition, A glory, an amenity, Pa.s.sing the dark condition Of blind humanity, As if he surely knew All the blest wonders should ensue, Or he had lately left the upper sphere, And had read all the sovran schemes and divine riddles there.

ON THE SAME

(_By Mary Lamb_. 1805)

Maternal lady with the virgin grace, Heaven-born thy Jesus seemeth sure, And of a virgin pure.

Lady most perfect, when thy sinless face Men look upon, they wish to be A Catholic, Madonna fair, to worship thee.

SONNETS

TO MISS KELLY

You are not, Kelly, of the common strain, That stoop their pride and female honor down To please that many-headed beast _the town_, And vend their lavish smiles and tricks for gain; By fortune thrown amid the actor's train, You keep your native dignity of thought; The plaudits that attend you come unsought, As tributes due unto your natural vein.

Your tears have pa.s.sion in them, and a grace Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow; Your smiles are winds whose ways we cannot trace, That vanish and return we know not how-- And please the better from a pensive face, And thoughtful eye, and a reflecting brow.

ON THE SIGHT OF SWANS IN KENSINGTON GARDEN

Queen-bird that sittest on thy shining nest, And thy young cygnets without sorrow hatchest, And thou, thou other royal bird, that watchest Lest the white mother wandering feet molest: Shrined are your offspring in a chrystal cradle, Brighter than Helen's ere she yet had burst Her sh.e.l.ly prison. They shall be born at first Strong, active, graceful, perfect, swan-like able To tread the land or waters with security.

Unlike poor human births, conceived in sin, In grief brought forth, both outwardly and in Confessing weakness, error, and impurity.

Did heavenly creatures own succession's line, The births of heaven like to your's would shine.

_Here came "Was it some sweet device." See page_ 4.

_Here came "Methinks how dainty sweet." See page_ 5.

_Here came "When last I roved." See page_ 8.

_Here came "A timid grace" See page_ 8.

_Here came "If from my lips." See page_ 9.