The Sun.
London, England, 1815-01-05 00:00:00

TO MISS• O'NEILL.

Start not, fair maiden, that these verses own
No name to grace them, and the hand unknown;
Nor deem, unjustly, that the lines contain
Aught that can five thy gentle bosom pain :
'Tis not a Youth, who long in sad disguise
Has sighed despairing, and now owns his sighs;
Nor yet the Critic, who presumes t'address
His far-fetched strictures in a softer dress;
Who, blind to beauties which he ne'cr can prize,
Sees blemishes which strike not other eyes;
And bent on censure, why he best can tell,
Blames thee for acting twice the same part well.
But he whom thus thy public fame inspires,
Is one who much thy private life admires ;
Who, " though unused to the melting mood,"
With tearful eyes thy agonies has view'd -
As Jollier' s Wife, or, still more horrid, where
The dying Gamester leaves thee to despair;
Has felt more pain, more pity, for thy woe,
Than e'er thy Birunis allow'd to chew;
Oft has confes,s'd bow time thy voice beguiles,
And lov'd thy playfulness, when Juliet smilec.
Such is his story, suppliant at your feet,
A boon he humbly ventures to intreat ;
Not for himself, for gladly would he sec
Each night repeated scenes so grac'd by thee,
But for the rest, who care not to complain
That grief's too busy to lament in vain ;
All have their private sorrows to redress,
To each their portion of unhappiness.
Oh ! then attempt (for sure thou must succeed)
To cheer the hearts which thou hast doom'd to bleed;
Put off awhile the pall, the funeral song,
Which, gorgeous Tragedy, to thee belong,
Let Gaiety in turn her empire claim,
And at the highest pride of_GaurtlcK aim ;
For there are parts where thou art forni'd to shine,
11l suited to less various pow'rs than thine :
Where Mirth and Feeling hand in hand may go,
And all thy talent to advantage sinew;
Charm us in riola, or, when man's unkind,
Skew sense and love in Jetliet combined;
The lively wit of Rosalind display,
Or, Inio.l,rcn, thy constant truth pourtray.
Think not the Muse would counsel thee to try
Aught unbefitting maiden modesty;
Or,; for a moment bauish from thy breast..
That female softness which becomes Thee best ;
She would not have Thee play the Wanton's part,
•
(For so, Calista, after all, thou art,)
\ Nor willingly thy te-auteous form expose
To all the wretchedness .11,,n; mitt knows.
Still le'ss would wish thee to assume the mien, •
The guilty boldness of the Scottish Queen;
Or, like flleita, careless of her fate,
Prove all the fury of a Woman's hate.
Bent, if enamoned of the Tragic Muse,
Her Comic Sister, thou wilt still refuse
Yet, for thy own sake, cease to persevere
In scenes reluirin?, efforts so severe;
A task less trying may thy thoughts engage,
Still leave thee constant to the buskiu'd stage.
Let Desdemona our compassion move,
Or kind Curdelia's more than filial love;
For thou art form'd with matchless pow'r and art,
To touch the inmost feelings of the heart.
To thee belongs whate'er may picture grief,
'ben the charg'd bosom seeks, in vain, relief;
The sub convulsive, ere the tear can flow,
And all the inciting tenderness.of woe..
One last request—whatever fate attend
These hints thrown out, but meant not to offend,
That you'll believe they came front one your friend.
Christmas-Day, ISM