On a Picture by R. R. Reinagle,
Representing me in an easy armed chair, which Mrs. M. took kind pains to procure for me; my grandson William reading to me; a volume of Burn's Justice, an Act of Parliament, and Books of Poetry on the table; the Portrait of myself a favoured likeness:
— Apology For Its Being So. —
Friends, if ye deem, as better than my best,
These looks, these features, and by flattery drest;
Furrow'd with age, and life's companion care,
If these complacency unwonted wear;
Accuse not Reinagle; he saw and caught
The happy influence, happy moments brought.
The gifts and graces of that Boy to reach
He strove, and rival'd all but breath and speech,
(He could but rival) placing by my side
That idol of a grandsire's love and pride.
Conscious I felt the renovating charm
Temper my soul, my sooth'd affections warm;
These from my heart upon my presence beam'd;
The faithful Artist gave but what I seem'd.
Thanks, Reinagle! thy excellence secures
Joy for my wane of life — if life endures.
Lov'd scene! lov'd habits! young associate, dear!
Time can't destroy our happy union here.
Still, when my Boy shall leave, as leave he must
My scanty lore for studies more robust,
When age, now beckoning, clasps me in that chair,
(Endear'd memorial of a wife's kind care!)
When business, disappointed, quits my door,
And the light Muses can engage no more;
When I shall rank with the rejected old,
My years accounted as a tale that's told,
Still, in their wreck if Heaven but spare my sight,
Here its last lifted gleam will sparkle with delight.
