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Original - Duke Divinity School

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Bending beneath all Sufferings — But Thy Own!<br />

In Vain —<br />

My feeble Wing disclaims the lofty Flight<br />

Conscious of Strength inferior. Ha! Why droops<br />

The Lilly of the Field, while double Pollen<br />

New die’s her languid Head? Why starts the Rose<br />

and sends fresh Crimson forth through all her Leaves<br />

Vainly Ye strive to emulate Her Form,<br />

Tho’ Heaven its Magazines of silver’d Rain<br />

Sent to Thy Aid, O Lilly. Tho’, O Rose,<br />

The Rainbow’s Blush were added to Thy Own.<br />

The Dog 131<br />

Thee, Sister, gladly would my Verse provoke,<br />

Nor other Meed expect I, than to wake<br />

Thy Strain melodious; while without or Rhyme<br />

Or haply Reason, unexperienc’d Lays,<br />

And unapprov’d, unless when sung by Thee,<br />

Audacious I attempt, and rise to sing<br />

A Dog; if Dog aright he may be term’d,<br />

Who scarcely more in Shape, I ween, resembles<br />

The vulgar barking Animals on Earth,<br />

Than Sirius or than Procyon, heav’nly Stars.<br />

Say first, whoe’er can say, what Sire begot,<br />

What Clime produced, this admirable Form,<br />

Uncouth, Prodigious; Lately curst, but now<br />

Thrice blest! the Subject of Heroick Song?<br />

131 Samuel Wesley Jr., ms.; cf. Poems on Several Occasions (London: S. Birt, 1736), 148.<br />

79

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