From a Poem for the Birthday of the Lady Cathrine Tufton

Deep lines of honor all can hit, Or mark out a superior wit; Consummate goodness all can show And where such graces shine below: But the more tender strokes to trace, To express the promise of a face, When but the dawnings of the mind. We from an air unripen'd find; Which altering, as new moments rise. The pen or pencil's art defies; When flesh and blood in youth appears, Polish'd like what our marble wears; Fresh as that shade of opening green, Which first upon our groves is seen; Enliven'd by a harmless fire, And brighten'd by each gay desire; These nicer touches would demand A Cowley's or a Waller's hand, To explain, with undisputed art, What 'tis affects the enlighten'd heart, When every darker thought gives way, Whilst blooming beauty we survey; To shew how all that's soft and sweet. Does in the fair Serena meet; To tell us with a sure presage, The charms of her maturer age.