Page:Boileau's Lutrin - a mock-heroic poem. In six canto's. Render'd into English verse. To which is prefix'd some account of Boileau's writings, and this translation. (IA boileauslutrinmo00boil).pdf/147

 But wherefore do I vainly thus Aspire To paint the Man thou Knowst, and All admire? Aristus is thy Work, his Image thine, 'Twas Thou that Form'd him, like thy self, Divine, And brooding o'er the Infant's tender Shell, Gave him in Spotless Merit to Excell. Thy Lessons with the early Milk Imbib'd, Are nobly in his Nervous Sense describ'd. His Soul thus fir'd with thy Cœlestial Flame, Ne'er made one base degen'rate Step to Shame. His hardy Zeal, for Useful Action made, Ne'er rusted in the dark Monastic Shade. Haste, Sister, and the Godlike Man address; His Op'ning Gates thy Presence will confess. All know thee There; for All thy Laws observe, And Imitate the pious Man they Serve. One Glance from Thee will pierce his inmost Soul, Which Love, nor Fear, nor Hatred can Controul. Thy