On
the
Hon.
Mrs.
HORNER's
Travelling
for
the
Recovery
of
her
Health
.
CLARISSA
long
has
sought
,
in
vain
,
Physicians
Aid
,
to
ease
her
Pain
;
But
now
their
Aid
she
seeks
no
more
,
Nor
longer
will
their
Drugs
endure
;
Spite
of
their
Art
,
her
Spirits
fail
,
Her
Cheeks
are
turn'd
a
languid
Pale
;
Yet
,
tho'
her
mortal
Part's
decay'd
,
Her
nobler
Virtue
does
not
fade
;
Her
Soul
,
inflexible
to
Ill
,
In
Piety
advances
still
:
So
Metals
lie
in
chymic
Fires
;
And
,
while
the
grosser
Part
expires
,
The
Flames
refine
the
golden
Ore
,
And
make
it
brighter
than
before
.
SHE
now
a
warmer
Clime
explores
,
To
prove
the
Air
of
foreign
Shores
:
O
!
may
the
temp'rate
Breezes
bring
Salubrious
Med'cines
on
their
Wing
:
Thou
,
PHOEBUS
,
too
,
propitious
shine
;
And
(
since
the
Pow'r
of
Physic's
thine
)
Send
blooming
Health
on
ev'ry
Beam
,
Dispel
her
Pains
,
and
chear
the
Dame
.
Else
must
my
melancholy
Strain
,
In
mournful
Elegies
,
complain
.
Ev'n
now
,
too
well
,
these
Numbers
show
,
My
drooping
Fancy's
damp'd
with
Woe
:
Yet
,
tho'
my
Verse
deserves
no
Praise
,
Let
no
sour
Critic
damn
my
Lays
;
Since
OVID's
Self
but
faintly
sung
,
When
only
Grief
inspir'd
his
Tongue
.