AIR. (So shall I paint, in conflict tender)

So shall I paint, in conflict tender, As fear and joy alternate strove, That form that bid her heart surrender, While burning blushes spoke her love.

Not Sol, that Belvidere delighted, Nor yet Alcides of Farnese; A form more perfect, that united Superior strength, with nobler ease.

So shall I paint that manly beauty, That worth, to truth and virtue dear, That mildness, honour, goodness, duty, All hearts admire, all minds revere.

These, as his portrait faintly charmed her, Won her consent to be a wife; Now Love's promethean ardour warmed her, And breathed the picture into life.