* * * * *

IN THE AUTOGRAPH BOOK OF MRS. SERGEANT W——.

* * * * *

  Had I a power, Lady, to my will,
  You should not want Hand Writings.  I would fill
  Your leaves with Autographs—­resplendent names
  Of Knights and Squires of old, and courtly Dames,
  Kings, Emperors, Popes.  Next under these should stand
  The hands of famous Lawyers—­a grave band—­
  Who in their Courts of Law or Equity
  Have best upheld Freedom and Property. 
  These should moot cases in your book, and vie
  To show their reading and their Sergeantry. 
  But I have none of these; nor can I send
  The notes by Bullen to her Tyrant penn’d
  In her authentic hand; nor in soft hours
  Lines writ by Rosamund in Clifford’s bowers. 
  The lack of curious Signatures I moan,
  And want the courage to subscribe my own.

* * * * *

TO DORA W——.

ON BEING ASKED BY HER FATHER TO WRITE IN HER ALBUM.

  An Album is a Banquet:  from the store,
  In his intelligential Orchard growing,
  Your Sire might heap your board to overflowing: 
  One shaking of the Tree—­’twould ask no more
  To set a Salad forth, more rich than that
  Which Evelyn[1] in his princely cookery fancied: 
  Or that more rare, by Eve’s neat hands enhanced,
  Where, a pleased guest, the Angelic Virtue sat. 
  But like the all-grasping Founder of the Feast,
  Whom Nathan to the sinning king did tax,
  From his less wealthy neighbors he exacts;
  Spares his own flocks, and takes the poor man’s beast. 
  Obedient to his bidding, lo, I am,
  A zealous, meek, contributory LAMB.

[Footnote 1:  Acetaria, a Discourse of Sallets, by J. E. 1706.]

* * * * *

IN THE ALBUM OF A CLERGYMAN’S LADY.

  An Album is a Garden, not for show
  Planted, but use; where wholesome herbs should grow. 
  A Cabinet of curious porcelain, where
  No fancy enters, but what’s rich or rare. 
  A Chapel, where mere ornamental things
  Are pure as crowns of saints, or angels’ wings. 
  A List of living friends; a holier Room
  For names of some since mouldering in the tomb,
  Whose blooming memories life’s cold laws survive;
  And, dead elsewhere, they here yet speak and live. 
  Such, and so tender, should an Album be;
  And, Lady, such I wish this book to thee.

* * * * *

IN THE ALBUM OF EDITH S——.

  In Christian world MARY the garland wears! 
  REBECCA sweetens on a Hebrew’s ear;
  Quakers for pure PRISCILLA are more clear;
  And the light Gaul by amorous NINON swears. 
  Among the lesser lights how LUCY shines! 
  What air of fragrance ROSAMOND throws round! 
  How like a hymn doth sweet CECILIA sound!