TO MISS C—KE.

1768.

TO sing of Clarke my Muse aspires,
 A theme by charms made quite divine;
 Ye tuneful Virgins sound your lyres,
 Apollo aid the feeble line;
 If Truth and Virtue, Wit, and Charms,
 May for a fix'd attention call:
 The darts of Love and wounding arms
 The beauteous Clarke shall hold o'er all. 
'Tis not the tincture of a skin,
 The rosy lip, the charming eye. 
No 'tis a greater Power within,
 That bids the passion never die:
 These Clarke possesses, and much more,
 All beauty in her glances sport,
 She is the Goddess all adore,
 In Country, City, and at Court.