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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345346" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sooner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles, <br>Than thy rash Hand which robs this Face of Smiles; <br>And does that sweet and pleasing Air control, <br>Which to us paints the fair CLEONE's Soul. <br>'Tis vain to boast of Rules or labour'd Art; <br>I miss the Look that captivates my Heart, <br>Attracts my Love, and tender Thoughts inspires; <br>Nor can my Breast be warm'd by common Fires; <br>Nor can ARDELIA love but where she first admires. <br>Like Jupiter's, thy Head was sure in Pain <br>When this Virago struggl'd in thy Brain; <br>And strange it is, thou hast not made her wield <br>A mortal Dart, or penetrating Shield, <br>Giving that Hand of disproportion'd size <br>The Pow'r, of which thou hast disarm'd her Eyes: <br>As if, like Amazons, she must oppose, <br>And into Lovers force her vanquish'd Foes. <br>Had to THEANOR thus her Form been shown <br>To gain her Heart, he had not lost his own; <br>Nor, by the gentlest Bands of Human Life, <br>At once secur'd the Mistress and the Wife. <br>For still CLEONE's Beauties are the same, <br>And what first lighten'd, still upholds his Flame. <br>Fain his Compassion wou'd thy Works approve, <br>Were pitying thee consistent with his Love, <br>Or with the Taste which Italy has wrought <br>In his refin'd and daily heighten'd Thought, <br>Where Poetry, or Painting find no place, <br>Unless perform'd with a superior Grace. <br>Cou'd but my Wish some Influence infuse, <br>Ne'er shou'd the Pencil, or the Sister-Muse <br>Be try'd by those who easily excuse: <br>But strictest Censors shou'd of either judge, <br>Applaud the Artist, and despise the Drudge. <br>Then never wou'd thy Colours have debas'd <br>CLEONE's Features, and her Charms defac'd: <br>Nor had my Pen (more subject to their Laws) <br>Assay'd to vindicate her Beauty's Cause. <br>A rigid Fear had kept us both in Awe, <br>Nor I compos'd, nor thou presum'd to draw; <br>But in CLEONE viewing with Surprize <br>That Excellence, to which we ne'er cou'd rise, <br>By less Attempts we safely might have gain'd <br>That humble Praise which neither has obtain'd, <br>Since to thy Shadowings, or my ruder Verse, <br>It is not giv'n to shew, or to rehearse <br>What Nature in CLEONE's Face has writ, <br>A soft Endearment, and a chearful Wit, <br>That all-subduing, that enliv'ning Air <br>By which, a sympathizing Joy we share, <br>For who forbears to smile, when smil'd on by the Fair?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Kingsmill+Finch">Anne Kingsmill Finch</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345346" data-title="To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone de Anne Kingsmill Finch" data-description="Sooner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles, 
Than thy rash Hand which robs this Face of Smiles; 
And does that sweet and pleasing Air control, 
Which to us paints the fair CLEONE's Soul. 
'Tis vain to boast of Rules or labour'd Art; 
I miss th..."></div>
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