To Miss Brunton

That darling of the Tragic Muse,

       &nbspWhen Wrangham sung her praise,

Thalia lost her rosy hues,

       &nbspAnd sicken'd at her lays:



But transient was th' unwonted sigh;

       &nbspFor soon the Goddess spied

A sister-form of mirthful eye,

       &nbspAnd danc'd for joy and cried:



'Meek Pity's sweetest child, proud dame,

       &nbspThe fates have given to you!

Still bid your Poet boast her name;

       &nbspI have my Brunton too.'