48
TO Mrs. P-------,
See the proud giant of the beetle race;
What ſhining arms his poliſh'd limbs enchaſe!
Like ſome ſtern warrior formidably bright
His ſteely ſides reflect a gleaming light:
On his large forehead ſpreading horns he wears,
And high in air the branching antlers bears:
O'er many an inch extends his wide domain,
And his rich treaſury ſwells with hoarded grain.
Thy friend thus drives to cheat the lonely hour,
With ſong, or paint, an inſect, or a flower:
Yet, if Amanda praiſe the flowing line,
And bend delighted o'er the gay deſign,
I envy not, nor emulate the fame
Or of the painter's, or the poet's name:
Could I to both with equal claim pretend,
Yet far, far dearer were the name of FRIEND.
CHA-
