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50  PHILLIS WHEATLEY'S POEMS.  51

To S. M. A young African Painter, on seeing his Works.

TO show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first they pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learn from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight!
Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire
To aid thy pencil, and they verse conspire!
And may the charms of each seraphic theme
Conduct their foot-steps to immortal fame!
High to the blissful wonders of the skies
Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes.
Thrice happy, when exalted to survey
That splendid city, crown'd with endless day,
Whose twice six gates on radiant hinges ring:
Celestial Salem blooms in endless spring.
  Calm and serene thy moments glide along,
And may the muse inspire each future song!
Still, with the sweets of contemplation bless'd,
May peace, with balmy wings, your soul invest!
But when these shades of time are chas'd away,
And darkness ends in everlasting day,
On what seraphic pinions shall we move,
And view the landscapes in the realms above!
There shall thy tongue in heav'nly murmurs flow,
And there my muse with heav'nly transport glow:
No more to tell of Damon's tender sighs,
Or rising radiance of Aurora's eyes,
For nobler themes demand a nobler strain,
And purer language on th' ethereal plain.
Cease, gentle muse! the solemn gloom of night
Now seals the fair creation from my sigh.

To his Honor the Lieutenant-Governor, on the Death of his Lady.  March 24, 1773.

ALL-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r,
Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more!
Forgent their splendors, and submit to die!
Who e'er escap'd thee, but the faint* of old 
Beyond the flood insacred annals told,
And the great sage [[?]], whom fiery coursers drew
To heav'n's bright portals from Elisha's view;
Wond'ring he gaz'd at the refulgent car,
Then snatch'd the mantle floating on the air.
From Death these only could exemption boast,
And without dying gain'd th' immortal Coast.
Not falling millions fate the tyrant's mind,
Nor can the victor's progress be confin'd.
But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease:
He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace;
His to conduct to the immortal plains,
Where Heav'n's Supreme in bliss and glory reigns.
  Thersits, illustrious sir, thy beauteous spouse;
A gem-blaz'd circle beaming on her brows.
Hail'd with acclim among the heav'nly choirs,
Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires.
To notes devine she tunes the vocal strings,
While Heav'n's high concave with the music rings.
Virtue's rewards can mortal pencil paint?
No--all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint;
Nor canst thou, Oliver, assent refuse
To heav'nly tidings from the Afric muse.
  As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate,
As the saint miss the glories I relate;
Or her Benevolence forgotten lie,
Which wip'd the trick'ling tear from Mis'ry's eye.
Whene'er the adverse winds were known to blow,
When loss to loss [[?]] enju'd, and woe to woe,
Calm and serene beneath her father's hand
She sat resign'd to the divine command.
*  Enoch.  [[?]]Elijah.
[[?]]Three amiable daughters, who died when just arrived to women's estate.