Sonnet to the Right Honourable Lady Mary Coke

The gentle maid, whose hapless tale     These melancholy pages speak; Say, gracious lady, shall she fail     To draw the tear adown thy cheek? No; never was thy pitying breast     Insensible to human woes; Tender, tho’ firm, it melts distrest     For weaknesses it never knows. Oh! guard the marvels I relate Of fell ambition scourg’d by fate,     From reason’s peevish blame. Blest with thy smile, my dauntless sail I dare expand to Fancy’s gale,     For sure thy smiles are Fame.

The gentle young woman, whose tragic story These sad pages tell, Tell me, gracious lady, will she fail To bring a tear to your cheek? No, your compassionate heart Has never been unmoved by human suffering. Tender though firm, it aches For weaknesses you have never known. Oh, protect the wonders I tell Of cruel ambition punished by fate From reason’s spiteful criticism. Encouraged by your smile, I boldly Spread my sail to the wind of imagination, For surely your smiles are fame.