it.  Beauty, in courts, is so necessary to the young, that those, who are without it, seem to be there to no other purpose than to wait on the triumphs of the fair; to attend their motions in obscurity, as the moon and stars do the sun by day; or, at best, to be the refuge of those hearts which others have despised; and, by the unworthiness of both, to give and take a miserable comfort.  But as needful as beauty is, virtue and honour are yet more:  The reign of it without their support is unsafe and short, like that of tyrants.  Every sun which looks on beauty wastes it; and, when it once is decaying, the repairs of art are of as short continuance, as the after-spring, when the sun is going further off.  This, madam, is its ordinary fate; but yours, which is accompanied by virtue, is not subject to that common destiny.  Your grace has not only a long time of youth in which to flourish, but you have likewise found the way, by an untainted preservation of your honour, to make that perishable good more lasting:  And if beauty, like wines, could be preserved, by being mixed and embodied with others of their own natures, then your grace’s would be immortal, since no part of Europe can afford a parallel to your noble lord in masculine beauty, and in goodliness of shape.  To receive the blessings and prayers of mankind, you need only to be seen together:  We are ready to conclude, that you are a pair of angels sent below to make virtue amiable in your persons, or to sit to poets when they would pleasantly instruct the age, by drawing goodness in the most perfect and alluring shape of nature.  But though beauty be the theme on which poets love to dwell, I must be forced to quit it as a private praise, since you have deserved those which are more public:  For goodness and humanity, which shine in you, are virtues which concern mankind; and, by a certain kind of interest, all people agree in their commendation, because the profit of them may extend to many.  It is so much your inclination to do good, that you stay not to be asked; which is an approach so nigh the Deity, that human nature is not capable of a nearer.  It is my happiness, that I can testify this virtue of your grace’s by my own experience; since I have so great an aversion from soliciting court-favours, that I am ready to look on those as very bold, who dare grow rich there without desert.  But I beg your grace’s pardon for assuming this virtue of modesty to myself, which the sequel of this discourse will no way justify:  For in this address I have already quitted the character of a modest man, by presenting you this poem as an acknowledgment, which stands in need of your protection; and which ought no more to be esteemed a present, than it is accounted bounty in the poor, when they bestow a child on some wealthy friend, who will better breed it up.  Offsprings of this nature are like to be so numerous with me, that I must be forced to send some of them abroad; only this is like to be more fortunate than