Up roſe the Judge, on each ſide bending low,85
A crafty ſmile accompanies his bow;
Ulyſſes-like, a gentle pauſe he makes,
Then, raiſing by degrees his voice, he ſpeaks.
“In you, my Lords, who judge, and all who hear,
Methinks I read your wiſhes for the fair:90
Nor can I wonder; even I contend
With inward pain, unwilling to offend;
Unhappy, thus oblig’d to a defence
That may diſpleaſe such heav’nly excellence.
Might we the laws on any terms abuſe,95
So bright an influence were the beſt excuſe.
Let Niobe’s[1] juſt fate, the vile diſgrace
O the Propœtides’[2] polluted race,
Let death, or ſhame, or lunacy, ſurpriſe
Who dare to match the luſtre of thoſe eyes.100
Aloud the faireſt of the ſex complain
Of captives loſt, and loves invok’d in vain;
At her appearance all their glory ends,
And not a ſtar but ſets when ſhe aſcends.
“Where Love preſides ſtill may ſhe bear the prize,105
But rigid Law has neither ears nor eyes:
Page:Poetical Works of the Right Hon. Geo. Granville.djvu/69
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MISCELLANIES.
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