ON SEEING THE PALETTE OF A CELEBRATED PAINTER. Hannah Cowley (née Parkhouse) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T90094 K073164.000 Cowley, Mrs. (Hannah), 1743-1809. The Poetry of Anna Matilda. London printed by John Bell, British Library, Strand, Bookseller to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. M DCC LXXXVIII. 1788 pp. []-8. [8],139,[1]p.; 8⁰.

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ON SEEING THE PALETTE OF A CELEBRATED PAINTER . THIS wild chaotic mass of every dye , Where principles of beauteous order lie , Is sure an emblem of the scene , When out of dark confusion sprung The variegated orb terrene , And in the solar system hung . Soon as the mighty artist gives the sign , This formless mass , as at the word divine , Shall regulate its shade and light , Harmonious move as he shall will — Its tints divide , or else unite , Obedient to his powerful skill . And as the GLORIOUS VISION fills his mind , They , to its plastic impulse all resign'd , Shall into prospects vast expand — Foaming , in surfy billows rise , Then stretch their velvet into land , Then bid their radiance stream — in skies . In cumbrous Alps ascend , whose tops explore Regions , where day-ey'd eagles fear to soar ; Or in the soft jonquil unfold , Midst the low beauties of the vale , Her robe of imitative gold , Which loads with sweets the dancing gale . In distant forests spread th' inviting brown , Or hide , with spikey furze , the barren down — Then , tumbling from the flinty rock , In white meanders lead the eye ; And then the eye's keen search to mock Thro' some time-fretted cavern fly . Richly festoon'd in luscious purple shine , Extending o'er the slope the nect'rous vine , Or in the gaudy spheroids swell , Which the swart Indian's groves illume , Or dye the spicey nonpareil , Or the soft peach's stain assume . Yet more — he wills , and from the palette starts The form divine — of soul illumin'd parts ! Here springs a HEBE , there a SAGE , Here HEROES from the mass break forth , There the soft LAIS of the age , From hence , the CAESAR of the North . Oh wondrous science ! first of arts among ! And do those mighty powers to thee belong ? Here — here then , POETRY , thy numbers bring , Here MUSIC strike thy sweetly trembling string ! Creative PAINTING asks th' adoring knee , Who , tho' a sister call'd , shall hence your Sov'reign be .