NEWBEGIN'S-BOOfcSHOP
JOHN'J'NEWBEGIN
NEW" OLD -& RARE BOOKS
FUVATB PHE$$ ITEMS 6 CHOICE SETS
*f
35* gostStrttt
San Troncisco. California
JOSEPH KITSON (1752-1803) supportea
the profits of his office-Deputy
.iiff of the Duchy of Lancaster-
he employed his time chiefly in the
preparation and publication of an-
aarian books, and in c eminent i
not in the most amiable spirit, on
the performance of laborers in the
same field of research.
ity provO;.
. In his later days he
subject to a mental disorder and
died in a fit of madness. As a la-
borious and generally accurate in-
vestigator, he merits nigh comuK
dation. (Allibone) Copies of the
.^OGY are ^uite RARE
SELDOM found in such good
.
EDITION 3 volumes.
(1793-1794)
THE
ENGLISH ANTHOLOGY.
VOLUME THE FIRST.
DULCE EST DE-CERfERE FLORES.
OVID.
LONDON:
T. AND J. EC.ER.TON, WHITEHALL,
A10CCXCIU.
\ni
'RSVe,
* \
ADVERTISEMENT.
\i
JL H E public is here prefented with a felec-
tton of Englifli poetry, in a chronological feties,
v from the beginning of the fixteenth century (or,
fv including an extract from CHAUCER, from the
Matter part of the fourteenth ) to the prefent time,
n upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at leaft in
this country*. It will not be thought pofftble
that a collection in three volumes fhould com-
prife every poem of value in the language i
- but it may be confidently afferted that there is
fcarce a fingle poet of any eminence or merit
& who has not contributed generally his beft,
* TH CALEDONIAN MUSE, a colleftion of Scotifii
poetry, upon a fimilar plan, printed Tome years fincc,
though not yet publifhcd, was, in faft, a fubfequcnt com-
pilation.
VOL. I. a
180578
ii ADVERTISEMENT,
and in fome cafes his only, produ&ion, and
that no publication of like nature ever com-
prehended fuch a number and variety of ex-
cellent poems, or was printed with fuperior
elegance, fidelity, or corre&nefs* No altera*-
tion (except in apparent miftakes) has been
attempted either in the language or in the
orthography, and as little as poflible even in
the punctuation, of the edition followed, which,
if not always the beft, will in no cafe be found
a bad one ; the only variation, if any, confift-
ihg in the orthography, which is, perhaps, very
feldom that of the author : nor has any piece
been inferted which had already appeared in
" A SELECT COLLECTION OF ENGLISH
SONGS/' publifhed in 1783.
It muft be confefled that the ufe, or rather
abufe, of Italic types and capital letters has
proved a fource of conftant difcouragement
and vexation. To have entirely preferved
thefe frivolous diftinclions, of which, in many
ADVERTISEMENT. ui
inftances, it was utterly impoffible to difcover
the reafon, would have been perfectly ridicu-
lous ; to omit them altogether appeared an adt
of violence. The editor, therefor, has not the
vanity to hope that either the retention or the
omifiion will fatisfy the more critical reader ;
being utterly unable to difcover any principle
which will juftify either the one or the other.
It is however to be wifhed that, except jn
fixed and given inftances, they could be en-
tirely laid afide ; being no more neceflary, one
would think, to the works of Pope or Swift
than to thofe of Virgil or Horace.
As it has been thought advifable to publifh
the firft of thefe volumes before the others can
be printed, it is earneftly requefted that thofe
who poflefs the dates of the birth and death of
FITZGERALD, BRAMSTON, FAWKES, SIR
CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS, SMART,
MERRICK, LLOYD, LANGHORNE, DR. COT-
TON, HALL STEVENSON j LADY MARY
a 2
iv ADVERTISEMENT,
WORTLEY MONTAGUE, MRS. BARBER, and
MISS MARY JONES, will be kind enough to
communicate them to the publifher, in order
that the fele&ions from thofe poets may be
duly arranged : and even the births of SIR
JOHN HARINGTON, DUKE, SIR SAMUEL
GARTH, FENTON, BROOME, and SOMER-
VILE, may be made ufe of in a future edition,
ftiould the colle&ion be found to deferve it.
One mould indeed have naturally concluded
that thefe important fa&s, for fuch the birth and
death of a man of merit or eminence un-
doubtedly are, would be found in the lives that
have been written of almoft all the perfons
juft named ; but, in fhort, many of thefe lives,
even in the excellent biographical prefaces of
Dr. Johnfon, may be carefully perufed without
betraying even the century in which the author
made fo diftinguimed a figure. Any fuggef-
tion, at the fame time, for the improvement
of the work, in matter, method, accuracy, or
ADVERTISEMENT. v
elegance, will be gratefully received, and pro-
perly attended to.
It were, perhaps, to be wifhed, that the
collection could have commenced at an earlyer
period ; but the editor is fufficiently familiar
with the poetical productions of preceding
centuries to pronounce with confidence, that
no compofition of a moderate length is to be
found, prior to the year 1500, which would
be thought to deferve a place in ihefe volumes ;
the nicety of the prefent age being ill difpofed
to make the neceflary allowances for the un-i
couth diction and homely fentiments of former
times. Nor will any perfon be forward to t
refcue fuch things from oblivion, while the
attempt expofes him to the malignant and
ruffian-like attacks of fome hackney fcribbler
or perfonal enemy, through the medium of
one or other of two periodical publications,
in which the moft illiberal abufe is vented
under colour of impartial criticifm, and both
the literary and moral character of every man
' 3
vi ADVERTISEMENT,
who wifhes to make his peculiar ftudies
contribute to the information or amufement
of fociety are at the mercy of a conceited
pedant, or dark and cowardly aflaffin. The
editor, at the fame time, by no means flatters
himfelf, that either the omiffion of what is ob-
fcure and unintelligible, or the infertion of
every thing elegant and refined, will be fuffi-
cient to protect thefe volumes from the ran-
corous malice and envenomed flander of the
reviewing critic. He appeals, however, from
the partial cenfures of a mercenary and ma-
levolent individual, to the judgement and can-
dour of a generous and difcerning public,
whofe approbation is propofed as the fole re-
ward of his difmterefted labours.
It ought to be mentioned, in juftice to the
prefent compilation, that it was made many
years ago : nor mould it, perhaps, if it could,
be concealed that the idea originated from a
fight of the elegant French fong-book, in-
titled L'ANTHOLOGIE FRAN^OISE.
CONTENT S,
AND
AUTHORITIES.
VOL. I.
<r Page
J. HE lover complainetb of the unkindnefs of bit
love. By Sir Thomas Wyatt. from " Poems
of Henry Howard, earl of Surrey, &c." 1717 t
Prifoner in Windfor, be recountetb bispleafure there
faffed. By Henry Howard, earl of Surrey.
From the fame authority - 4
Defcription andpraife of his love Geraldine. By
the fame. From the fame authority 6
Eclogue. By Edmund Spenfer. From his" Works,"
1611 . - . -7
Sonnet. By the fame. From the fame authority n
Eclogue. By Michael Drayton, efq. From bis
"Worts? 1753 - - x
Sonnet. By William Shakfpeare. From bis " Son-
nets? 5609, reprinted 1766 * - J7
a 4
Tiii CONTENTS.
On bis mifirefs, the queen ef Bohemia. By Sir Henry
Wotton,kt. From " ReliquiaWottonian*," 1685 it
Upon the death of Sir Albert Mortons wife. Bj
the fame. From the fame authority - - 19
Tbt bait. By John Donne, D. D. dean of St.
Pauls. From bis " Poems," 1635 - -20
pitapbs. By Benjamin Jonfon, poet laur eat. The
Jirft, On the countefs of Pembroke, Jifter to Jir
Philip Sidney, from the authors " Works," 1 756 ;
fbe fecond, On Michael Drayton, efq. from bis
monument in Weftminfler-abbey - - 2 a
To his fan, Vincent Corbet. By Richard Corbet t
bijbop of Norwich. From bis " Poems," 1672 24
Songs. By Thomas Carew, efq. From bis " Poems,'''
1651 - - - -25
The fartnve II. By Henry King, bijbop of Chi-
clefler. from bis " Poems,"' 1657 - - 26
'She fiery of Phoebus and Daphne applied. By
Edmund Waller, efq. From bis " Poems" 1645,
compared -juith the editions 0^1664, 1682, and
I73<> - i)
On my laay Ifabella playing on the lute. By the
fame. From the fame authorities - - 30
On a tree cut in paper. By the fame. From the
edition of 1 6 8 a, compared with that of \ 7.30 - 51
CONTENTS. U
L" Allegro. By John Milton. From his " Poems"
1673, compared with the edition of 164.5 - - 3*
II Penferofo. By the fame. From the fame au-
thorities - - - 38
Lycidas. By the fame. From the fame authori-
ties ; collated alfo with the firfl edition in the
tf obfequies to the memorie of mr. Edward
King," 1638 - - 45
Sonnet. By the fame. From the (< Poems," 167$ 53
Mifcellaneous thoughts. By Samuel Butler. From
bis " Pojlbumous works," 1759 - - 54.
Ceopers Hill. By Jir John Denham. From his
*' Poems," 1671" - - 58
To Altbea, from prifon. By Richard Lovelace,
efq. From " Lucafla: Epodes," &c. 1649 - 7*
The waiting maid. By Abraham Cowley, efq.
From his " Works," 1710 -74-
The epicure. [Frcm Anacrean.~\ By the fame.
From the fame authority - - - 73
Claudian's Old man of Verona. By the fame.
From the fame authority - - 76
Prayer. [From his own Latin.~\ By the fame.
From the fame authority - 78
The nymph complaining for the lofs of her fawn ,
By Andrew Mar-veil, efq. From " Mifcellany
poems, published by mr. Dryden," 1727 - 79
x CONTENTS.
Horace, Lib. iv. Ode 7. Byjir William Temple,
hart. From his " Works," 1757 - - 84
So3 r . By Charles Cotton, efq. From his " Poems,'' 1
1689 -,-. - - 86
The morning quatrains. By the fame. From the
fame authority - - - 87
Noon quatrains. By the fame. From the fame
authority $z
Evening quatrains. By the fame. From the fame
authority - - 94.
Night quatrains. By the fame. From the fame
authority - - 96.
Theodore and Hanoria. [A tranjlation from Boc-
cace. ] By John Dryden, efq. poet laureat. From
bis " Mifcellaneous works" 1760 - -xox
Alexander's Feaji, or the Power of Mufic ; an ode,
in honour of St. Cecilia's day. By the fame.
From the fame authority - - 117
On bis miftrefs dro'wn'd. By Thomas Spratt,
bijhop of Rochejler. From " Mifcellany poems,'"
. publijbed by Dryden, 1727 - iz$
Conftancy. By fir Charles Sedley, hart. From
bit " Works,'' 1778 - - - 126
A fang. By the fame. Frojn the fame authority 117
CONTENTS. xi
fnconftancy excufed. Song. By John Sheffield,
duke of Buckinghamjbire. From bis " Works"
1740 - iz
On Luanda's death. By the fame. From the fame
authority - * - - I2J
Song. By John Wllmot, earl of Rochejter. From
Drydens " Mifcellany poems " 1727 - - 130
The Jixteenth ode of thefecond book of Horace. By
Thomas Otway. From his "Works," 1768 131
The retirement. By John Nor r is. From bis
" Mifcellanies" 1691 - - 133
Song. By Charles Sackville, earl of Dorfet. From
the " Works of celebrated authors," 1750 - 13$
Written at Altbrop, in a blank leaf of Waller's
poems, upon feeing Vandyke's piflure of the old
lady Sunderland. By Charles Montague, earl
of Halifax. From the fame authority - - 1 36
Horace. Book 17. Ode III. Imitated by Francis
Atterbury, bijhop of Rocbefter. From the au-
thors " Epiftolary correjpondence, &c." 1783.
(the notes being omitted) - - - 137
Epigram, 'written on a white fan borrowed from
miff OJborne, afterwards his wife. By the
fame. From the fame authority - - 138
xii CONTENTS.
A reply to a copy of verfes made in imitation of
Book III. Ode II. of Horace. Anguftam, amice,
pauperiem pati, &c. and fent by mr. Titley to
* the author.'' By Richard Bentley, L L. D.
from the " Collection of poems," publijbed by
mr. Dodjlej, 1758 - 139
To the evening flar. Englijh* d from a Greek idyl-
Hum. By George Stepney, efq. From the " Works
of celebrated authors,'"'' 1750 - -141
Epigram. Love, andjealeufy. By William Wal/b,
efq. From the fame authority - t^.z
Song. By the fame. From the fame authority ibJ.
tdully of Mountain. By William King, LL.D.
From his " Mifcellanies," (no date) - - 144,
Henry and Emma, a poem, upon the model of the
Nut-brown Maid. By Matthew Prior, efq.
From his "Poems," 1718 - 149
To ayoung gentleman in love. A tale. By the fame.
From the fame authority - - 179
The garland. By the fame. From the fame au-
thority . lga
A lover's anger. By the fame. From the fame
authtrity - 184
Merry Andrew. By the fame. From the fame
authority - . . . , 8s
CONTENTS, xiii
A reasonable afflifliox. By the fame. From the
fame authority - - 187
Occafioned by verfesfent to the author in his retire-
ment. By mrs. Elizabeth Higgons. Written in
tkejear 1690. By Geo. Granville, lord Lanf-
dovjne. From his " Works" 1736 - - iSS
Baucis and Philemon. Imitated from the eighth
book of Ovid. Written, 1706. By Jonathan
Swift, D.D. dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin.
From bis " Mifcellanies," 1711, 1727 - - 193
Verfes on the death of Doctor Sivift. Occafioned
bj reading 'a* maxim inRochfoucault. Written
by himfelf: Nov. 1731. From the edition of
1739 - -aoo
A letter from Italy, To the right honourable Charles
lord Halifax. In the year MDCCI. Byjofcpb
Addifon, efq. From his " Works" 1753 -216
7*c his perjur'd miflrefs. From Horace. Bylhomat
Talden, D. D. From Drydens " Mifcellanj
poems" 1727 ... . 113
To a candle. Elegy. By William Congreve, efq.
From his "Works," 1715 - - 216
Horace, Book II. Ode W. Imitated. The lord
Griffin to the earl of Scarfdale. By Nicholas
Roive, efq. poet laur eat. From bis "Works,"
1747 . . - - 7
*W CONTENTS.
The Indian pbilo/opher. By Ifaac Watts, D. D.
From bis " Horae Lyricse," 1758 - - 430
Pttfloral. By Ambrofe Philips, from bis " Paf-
torals" &c. 1765 - - 233
To the earl ofDorfet. By the fame. From the fame
authority - 24
Tofignora Cuzzoni. By the fame. From the fame
^authority - - - - *4 Z
The fplendid Jbilling. An imitation of Milton.
By John Philips. From the edition of i 7 1 9 - 244
To a painter. By John Hughes, efq. From his
" Poems," 1735 - - 450
The peach Jlcne. By George Jeffreys, efq. From
bis ' Mifcellanies ," 1754 - 25*
The hermit. By Thomas Parnell, D. D. arch-
deacon of Ciogker. From bis " Poems," 1711 453
A fairy tale. In the ancient Englijb Jiile. By the
fame. Fmm the fame authority - - 264
Ronald and Dorna. By a higblander, to his mif-
trefs. From a literal tranflation of the original.
By Aaron Hill, efq. From bis " Works" 1753 271
The meffenger. By the fame. From the fame au-
thority - 27 j
To the right honourable the earl of Warwick.
{On the death of mr. Addifon.] By Thomas
Tickell, efq. F rom Addifons " Works" 1753 275
C6NTENTS. XT
Tie fatal curiofity. By the fame. From Dry dens
" Mifcellane ous poems" 1727 - 279
Retirement. An ode. By Thomas Warton the elder.
From bis " Poems," 1745 - 281
An invocation to a water-nymph. By the fame.
From the fame authority - -283
4n American lo've-ode. Taken from the feccnd
volume of Montagne's Effajs. By the fame*
From the fame authority - 284.
'Damon. Apafloral." By Alexander Pope, efq. From
bis " Works" 1751 (the notes being omitted) 285
To mrs. M. B. on her birth-day. By the fame.
From the fame authority - - - 290
Epiftle to the fame. On her leainng the to<wn after
the coronation [1715]. By the fame. From
the fame authority - - 291
Mlegy. To the memory of an unfortunate young
lady. By the fame. From the fame authority 29 j
The firfl fatire of the fecond book of Horace imi-
tated. By the fame. From the fame authority
- (the imitations and notes being omitted) - - 297
A prologue to a play for mr. Dennis's benefit, in
1733, when be was old, blind, and in great
diflrrfs, a little before his death. By the fame.
From the fame authority (the notes being omitted) 304
xvi CONTENTS;
Epitaphs. "By the fame. From tht fame authority 304
Fables. By John Gay, efq. From his " Fables,"'
(vol. \.) 1733, and ('vol. 2.) 1738 - - 307
Pajlorals. By the fame. From his " Shepherds
Week," 1714. - 31 %
The birth of the fquire. An eclogue. In imitation
of the Pollio of Virgil. By the fame. From
his " Poems,"" 1737 - - 331
OH the fetting-up mr. Butler's monument in Wefl-
minjler-abbey. By Samuel Wejley. From his
" Poems," 1736 - 336
Epigram, from the Greek. By the fame. From
the fame authority - - 336
The Bajlard. Infcribed, luitb all due reverence,
to mrs. Brett, once countefs of Macclesfield. By
Richard Savage. From his <( Works," 1775 339
Epitaph on a young lady. By the fame. From the
fame authority - 34.^
Upon the bijhop of Rochejler' s banijhment, in 1723.
By Philip, duke of Wbarton. From " The True
Briton,"" 1732 . 345
On the death of a young gentleman . By Chriftopber
Pitt. From bis " Poems," 1779 - - 34-8
Sonnet. By Thomas Edwards. From tht " Ca-
nons of criticifm," 1758 * * 359
THE
ENGLISH ANTHOLOGY.
PART THE FIRST.
THE LOVER COMPLAINETH OF THE UN-
KINDNESS OF HIS LOVE.
BY SIR THOMAS WYATT. *
JVlY lute, awake ; perform the laft
Labour that thou and I fhall waft,
And ende that I have now begunne ;
And when this fong is fong and part,
My lute, be ftyll ; for I have done. 5
* Barn 1503; dyed 1541. To dijllnguljb him from
+nolher of the name> be is vfually called Sir Tbamas fVyatt
the elder,
VOL. I. A
2 W Y ATT.
As to be heard where eare is none,
As leade to grave in marble Hone,
My fong may pearce her hart as foon ;
Should we then figh, or fing, or mone ?
No, no, my lute, for I have done. 10
The rocks do not fo cruelly
Repulfe the waves continually,
As me my fuite and affeftion ;
So that I am paft remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done. i$
Proude of the fpoyle that thou haft gotte
Of fimple hearts, through loves mot,
By whome, unkind, thou haft them wonne ;
Think not he hath his bow forgott,
Although my lute and I have done. 20
Vengeance (hall fall on thy difdaine,
That makeft but game on earneft payne ;
Think not alone under the funn
Unquit to caufe thy lovers playne,
Although my lute and I have done. 25
May chance* thee lye withred and old,
In winter nights that are fo cold,
Playning in vaine unto the moon ;
Thy wiihes then dare not be told,
Care then who lift, for I have doone. 30
V. 26. chanced.
WY ATT.
And then may chaunce thee to repent
The time that thou haft loft and fpent,
To caufe thy lovers fighe and fwone ;
Then fhalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wilh and want as I have done. 35
Now ceafe, my lute ; this is the laft
Labour that thou and I mall waft,
And ended is that we begonne ;
Now is this fong both fong and paft :
My lute, be ftill ; for I have done. 40
A a
PRISONER IN WINDSOR, HE RECOUNTETH
HIS PLEASURE THERE PASSED.
BY HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY.*
Oo cruell prifon howe could betyde, alas !
As proude Windfor ; where I, in luft and joy,
Wythe a Kynges fonne, my chyldy (h yeres dyd paffe,
In greater feaft than Priams fonnes of Troye ;
Where eche fwete place returnes a taftfull fower : 5
The large grene court where we were wont to * hove,'
Wyth eyes caft up into the maydens tower,
And eafy fighes, fuch as folkes draw in love ;
The ftately feates, the ladies brighte of hewe ;
The daunces fhort, long tales of greate delight, 10
Wyth woordes and lookes, that tygers could b ut rewe,
Where eche of us dyd pleafe the others ryghte ;
The palme play, where defpoyled for the game,
With dared eyes oft we by gleames of love,
Have myft the ball, and gote fighte of our dame, 1 5
To bayte her eyes, whyche kept the leads above ;
The gravel ground, wythe fleves tyde on the helme
On fomyng horfe, with fwordes and friendly hartes ;
Wythe chere as though one {hould another whelme,
Where we have fought, and chafed oft with dartes ; 20
* Born 15..; beheaded 1546.
V. 6. trove.
SURREY. 5
With filver droppes the meade yet fpreade for ruthe,
In aftive games of nimblenefs and ftrength,
Where we did ftrayne, trayned vvyth fwarmes of
youthe,
Our tender limmes, that yet (hot up in lengthe ;
The fecrete groves which ofte we made refounde,
Of pleafant playnte, and of our ladies prayfe, 26
Recordyng oft what grace eche one -had founde,
What hope of fpede, what dreade of long delayes ;
The wylde forrefte, the clothed ' holtes' with grene,
With raynes availed, and fwiftly breathed horfe ; 30
Wyth cry of houndes and merry blaftes betwene,
Where we did chafe the feareful hart of force ;
The wyde vales eke, that harborde us eche nyghte :
Wherewyth (alas) reviveth in my brefte,
The fwete accorde, fuch flepes as yet delyght ; 35
The pleafant dreames, the quyet bed of refte ;
The fee ret thoughtes imparted with fuch truft ;
The wanton talke, the dyvers chaunge of playe ;
The friendmip fworne, eche promife kept fo fad ;
Wherewith we part the winter nyghte away. 40
And wyth thys thoughte, the bloud forfakes the face,
The teares berayne my chekes of deadly hewe,
The whyche as foone as fobbyng fighes (alas !)
Upfupped have, thus I my playnt renewe :
O place of blifle ! renewer of my woes ! 45
Give me accompt where is my noble fere,
Whom in thy walles thou doeft eche nyghte enclcfe,
To other ' leefe,' but unto me moft ' deere :'
y. 29. holes. V. 48. lufc. clecrc.
6 SURREY.
Eccho (alas!) that doth my forrow rewe,
Returns thereto a hollowe founde of playnt ; 50
Thus I alone, where all my freedome grewe,
In pryfon pyne, wythe bondage and reftraynt :
And with remembrance of the greater griefe
To banifhe the lefie I fynd my chief reliefe.
DESCRIPTION AND PRAISE OF HIS LOVE
GERALDINE.
BY THE SAME.
FROM Tufcane came my ladies worthy race,
Faire Florence was fometyme her auncient feate ;
The Weftern yle whofe pleafant more doth face
Wild Cambers clifs, did geve her lyuely heate ;
Foilered me was with milke of Irime breft ; 5
Her fire, an erle, her dame, of princes blood ;
From tender yeres in Britaine me doth reft,
With Kinges childe, where me tafteth coftly foode.
Honfdon did firft prefent her to myne yien :
Bright is her hewe, and Geraldine me hight ; 10
Hampton me taught to wime her firft for mine,
And Windfor, alas, doth chafe me from her fight.
Her beauty of kinde, her vertue from above ;
Happy is he that can obtain her love 1
ECLOGUE.
BY EDMUND SPENSER.*
ARGUMENT.
IN tbh Aeglogue, Colin Clout, a Jhepheards boy, complaineth
himfelfe of his "unfortunate /oue, Seeing but newly (as it
feemetb) enamoured of a countrey lajfe called Rofalind :
with ivhich firong affe Elian being verie fore trauelled, hee
comparetb his carefull cafe to the fad feafon of the yeere,
to tbefrofile ground, to the frozen treet, and to his o'wne
tulnter-beaten fiocke. And lajlly, finding himfelfe robbed,
tf all former pleafance and delight, he breaketb his pipe In
peeces t and cajietb himfelfe to the ground.
COLIN CLOUT.
A SHEPHEARDS boy (no better doe him call),
When Winters waftefull fpight was almoft fpent,
All in a funftrine day, as did befall,
Led forth his flocke, that had been long ypent.
So faint they woxe, and feeble in the fold, 5
That now vnnethes their feet could them vphold.
* Born 1553; dyed 1598.
A 4
8 SPENSER.
All as the flieepe, fuch was the fhepheards looke,
For pale and wanne he was, (alas the while !)
May feem he lov'd, or elfe fome care he tooke :
Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his ftile.
Tho to a hill his fainting flock he led, 1 1
And thus him plainde, the while his flieepe there fed.
Yee gods of loue, that pittie louers paine,
(If any gods the paine of louers pittie :)
Looke from aboue, where you in ioyes remaine, 15
And bow your eares vnto my dolefull dittie.
And Pan, thou fhepheards god, that once did loue,
Pittie the paines that thou thyfelfe didft proue.
Thou barren ground whom Winters wrath hath
wafted,
Art made a mirrour, to behold my plight : 20
Whilom thy frefh Spring flowr'd, and after hafted
Thy Sommer proude, with daffadillies dight ;
And now is come thy Winters flormie ftate,
Thy mantle mard, wherein thou mafkedft late.
Such rage as Winters raigneth in my heart, 25
My life-blood freezing, with vnkindly cold :
Such flormie ftoures doe breed my balefull fmart,
As if my yeeres were wafte, and woxen old.
And yet, alas, but now my fpring begonne,
And yet, alas, it is already donne. 30
SPENSER. 9
You naked trees, whofe fhadie leaues are loft,
Wherein the birds were wont to build their bowre,
And now are cloath'd with mofle and hoarie froft,
In ftead of bloflbms, wherewith your buds did
flowre,
I fee your teares, that from your boughs doe raine,
Whofe drops in drerie yficles reraaine. 36
Alfo my luftfull leafe is dry and feare,
My timely buds with wailing all are wafted :
The bloflbm which my branch of youth did beare,
With breathed fighs is blowne away, and blafled.
And from mine eyes the drizling teares defcend, 41
As on your boughs the yficles depend.
Thou feeble flocke, whofe fleece is rough and rent,
Whofe knees are weake, through faft, and euill
fare,
Maift witnefTe well by thy ill gouernment, 45
Thy maifters mind is ouercome with care.
Thou weake, I wanne ; thou leane, I quite forlorne ;
With mourning pine I, you with pining mourne.
A thoufand fithes I curfe that carefull houre,
Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to fee : 50
And eke ten thoufand fithes I blefle the floure,
Wherein I faw fo faire a fight as fhee.
Yet all for nought : fuch fight hath bred my bane :
Ah God, that loue fhould breed both ioy and paine !
IO SPENSER.
It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine, 55
Albee my loue he feeke with daily fuit :
His clownifii gifts and curtefies I difdaine,
His kids, his cracknels, and his early fruit.
Ah, foolifti Hobbinol, thy gifts been vaine :
Colin them gives to Rofalinde againe. 60
I loue thilke lafle, (alas, why doe I loue?)
And am forlorne, (alas, why am I lorne ?)
Shee deignes not my good will, but doth reproouc,
And of my rurall mufick holdeth fcorne.
Shepheards deuife fhe hateth as the fnake, 65
And laughes the fongs that Colin Clout does make.
Wherefore my pipe, albee rude Pan thou pleafe,
Yet for thou pleafeft not where moft I would,
And thou vnluckie Mufe, that woontft to eafe
My mufmg minde, yet canft not, when thou mould,
Both pipe and Mufe, mail fore the while abie : 7 1
So broke his oaten pipe, and downe did lie.
By that the welked Phoebus gan auaile
His wearie waine, and now the froftie Night
Her mantle blacke through heauen gan overhaile ;
Which feene, the penfiue boy halfe in defpight
Arofe, and homeward droue his funned fheepe,
Whofe hanging heads did feem his careful cafe to
weepe.
SPENSER. It
SONNET.
BY THE SAME.
O N E day I wrote her name vpon the ftrand,
But came the waues and warned it away :
Againe, I wrote it with a fecond hand,
But came the tyde, and made my paines his pray.
Vaine man, faid me, that dooft in vaine aflay, 5
A mortal thing fo to immortalize,
For I myfelfe mall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewife.
Not fo, quoth I, let bafer things deuife
To die in dufl, but you (hall Hue by fame : 10
My verfe your virtues rare fliall eternize,
And in the heauens write your glorious name.
Where, when as death mall all the world fubdew,
Our loue fhall Hue, and later Hfe renew.
ECLOGUE.
BY MICHAEL DRAYTON, ESQ^*
VV HAT time the weary weather-beaten fheep,
To get them fodder, hie them to the fold,
And the poor herds that lately did them keep
Shudder'd with keennefs of the winter's cold :
The groves of their late fummer pride forlorn, 5
In moiTy mantles fadly feem'd to mourn.
That filent time, about the upper world,
Phoebus had forc'd his fiery-footed team,
And down again the fteep Olympus whirl'd
To wafh his chariot in the Weftern ftream, 10
In night's black made, when Rowland, all alone,
Thus him complains, his fellow fhepherds gone.
You flames, quoth he, wherewith thou heaven art
dight,
That me (alive) the woful'ft creature view,
You, whofe afpedb have wrought me this defpight,
And me with hate yet ceafelefsly purfue, 16
For whom too long I tarried for relief,
Now afk but death, that only ends my grief.
* Born 1563; dyed 1631.
D R A Y T O N. IJ
Yearly my vows, O heavens, have I not paid,
Of the beft fruits, and firftlir.gs of my flock ? 20
And oftentimes have bitterly inveigh'd
'Gainft them that you prophanely dar'd to
mock ?
O, who (hall ever give what is your due,
If mortal man be uprighter than you ?
If the deep fighs of an afflifted breaft, 25
O'erwhelm'd with forrow, or th' erected eyea
Of a poor wretch with miferies oppreft,
For whofe complaints tears never could fuffice,
Have not the power your deities to mov -,
Who mail e'er look for fuccour from above ? 3*
O night, how ftill obfequious have I been,
To thy flow filence whifpering in thine ear.
That thy pale fovereign often hath been feen
Stay to behold me fadly from her fphere,
Whilft the flow minutes duly I have told, 35
With watchful eyes attending on my fold !
How oft by thee the folitary fwain,
Breathing his paflion to die early fpring,
Hath left to hear the nightingale complain,
Pleafing his thoughts alone to hear me fing ! 40
The nymphs forfook their places of abode,
To hear the founds that from my mufick flow'd.
*4 DR AY T ON-
TO purge their fprings, and fandtify their grounds.
The fimple fhepherds learned I the mean,
And fov'reign fimples to their ufe I found, 4$
Their teeming ewes to help when they did yean;
Which when again in fummer time they fhare,
Their wealthy fleece my cunning did declare.
In their warm cotes, whilft they have foundly
flept,
And pafs'd the night in many a pleafant bower,
On the bleak mountains I their flocks have kept,
And bid the brunt of many a cruel fhower ;
Warring with beafts, in fafety mine to keep,
So true was I, and careful of my ftieep.
Fortune and time, why tempted you me forth, 55
With thofe your flattering promifes of grace,
Fickle, fo falfely to abufe my worth,
And now to fly me, whom I did embrace ?
Both that at firft encourag'd my defire,
Laftly againft me lewdly do confpire. 60
Or nature, did'ft thou prodigally wafte
Thy gifts on me unfortunateft fwain,
Only thereby to have thyfelf difgrac'd ?
Virtue, in me why wert thou plac'd in vain ?
If to the world predefdned a prey, 65
Thou wert too good to have been caft away.
D R A YTO N. 15
There's not a grove that wond'reth not my woe,
Nor not a river weeps not at my tale,
I hear the echoes (wand'ring to and fro)
Refound my grief through every hill and dale ;
The birds and beafts yet in their fimple kind 71
Lament for me, no pity elfe that find.
None elfe there is gives comfort to my grief,
Nor my mimaps amended with my moan,
When heaven and earth have (hut up all relief, 7$
Nor care avails what curelefs now is grown :
And tears I find do bring no other good,
But as new (hewers increafe the rifmg flood.
When on an old tree, under which ere now
He many a merry roundelay had fung, 80
Upon a leaflefs canker-eaten bough,
His well tun'd bag-pipe carele&ly he hung :
And by the fame his (heep-hook, once of price,
That had been carv'd with many a rare device.
He call'd his dog, (that fome time had the praife)
Whitefoot, well known to all that keep the
plain, 86
That many a wolf had worried in his days,
A better cur there never followed fwain;
Which, though as he his matter's forrows knew,
Wag'd his cut tail, his wretched plight to rue. 90
t& D R A Y T O N .
Poor cur, quoth he, and him therewith did ftroke j
Go to your cote, and there thyfelf repofe,
Thou with thine age, my heart with forrow broke.
Be gone, ere death my reftlefs eyes do clofe ;
The time is come thou mufl thy mafter leave, 95-
Whom. the vile world {hall never more deceive.
With folded arms thus hanging down his head,
He gave a groan, his heart in funder cleft,
And, as a ftone, already feemed dead
Before his breath was fully him bereft : i oo
The faithful fwain here laftly made an end,
Whom all good fhepherds ever mail defend.
SONNET.
BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.*
\VHEN fortie winters (hall befeige thy brow,
And digge deep trenches in thy beauties field,
Thy youthes proud liuery, fo gaz'd on now,
Will be a totter'd weed of final .worth held :
Then, being afkt, where all thy bcautie lies, 5
Where all the treafure of thy lufty daies ;
To fay within thine owne deepe-funken eyes,
' Were' an all-eating fliame, and thriftlefle praife.
How; much more praife deferu'd thy beauties vfe,
If thou couldfl anfwere, this faire child of mine
Shall fum my count, and make my old excufe 1
Proouing his beautie by fucccflion thine.
This were to be new made when thou art ould,
And fee thy blood warme when thou feePft it could.
* Born 1564; dyed 1616.
V. 8. where.
VOL. I. B
ON HIS MISTRESS, THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.
BY SIR HENRY WOTTON, KT.*
You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly fatisfie our eyes,
More by your number, than your light,
You common people of the flues,
What are you when the Sun fliall rife ?
You curious chanters of the wood, 6
That warble forth dame Natures lays,
Thinking your voices underflood,
By your weak accents, what's your praife
When Philomel her voice mail raife ?
You violets, that firft appear, 1 1
By your pure purple mantles known,
Like the proud virgins of the year,
As if the fpring were all your own,
What are you when the Rofe is blown ?
* Born 1568; dyed 1639.
WOTTO N. 19
So, when my Miftrifs mall be feen
In form and beauty of her mind,
By vertue firft, then choice, a Queen,
Tell me, if me were not defign'd
Th' eclipfe and glory of her kind ? 20
UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT
MORTON'S WIFE.
BY THE SAME.
H E firft deceas'd ; me for a little tri'd
To live without him : Hk'd it not, and di'd,
THE BAITE.
BY JOHN DONNE, D.D^
DEAN OF ST. PAULS.*
C o ME live with mee, and bee my love ;
And we will fome new pleafures prove
Of golden fands, and chriftall brookes,
With filken lines, and filver hookes.
There will the river whifpring rnnne, 5
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the funne ;
And there th' inamor'd fifli will ftay,
Begging themfelves they may betray.
When thou wilt fwimme in that live bath,
Each fifli, which every channell hath, 10
Will amourously to thee fwimme,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou to be fo feene beeft loath
By funne or moone, thou darkneft both ;
And if my felfe have leave to fee, 1 5
I need not their light, having thee-
* Born 1573; dyed 1631. Tbh fong is In imltatitn of
ajtlll more beautiful one by ChriJIopber Maritime, beginning
ujith the fame line.
DONNE. 21
Let others freez with angling reeds,
And cut their legges with fhels and weeds,
Or treacherously poore fifh befet,
With ftrangling fnare, or windowie net : 20
Let coarfe bold hands from {limy neft
The bedded fifh in banks out-wreft,
Or curious traitors, fleave filke flies, .
Bewitch poore fifties wandring eyes :
For thee, thou needft no fuch deceit, 25
For thou thy felfe art thine owne baite ;
That fi(h, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas ! is wifer farre than I.
EPITAPHS.
BY BENJAMIN JONSON,
POET LAUREAT.*
ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE,
TO SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
UNDERNEATH this marble herfe
Lies the fubjeft of all verfe,
Sidney's lifter, Pembroke's mother ;
Death, ere thou haft flain another,
Learn'd, and fair, and good as fhe,
Time mall throw his dart at thee.
ON MICHAEL DRAYTON,
DOE, pious marble, let thy readers knowe,
What they, and what their children, owe
To Draiton's name, whofe facred duft
Wee recommend unto thy truft :
Proteft his mem'ry, and preferve his florye,
Remaine a lafting monument of his glorye ;
* Born 1574; dyed 1638.
J O N S ON.
And when thy mines (hall difclame
To be the treas'rer of his name,
His name, that cannot fade, mail be
An evedafting monument to thee.
TO HIS SON, VINCENT CORBET.
BY RICHARD COR B E T, B ISHOP OF NORWICH.*
\VHAT I {hall leave thee none can tell,
But all {hall fay I wifti thee well :
I wifli thee (Vin) before all wealth,
Both bodily and ghoftly health :
Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee,
So much of either may undo thee. 6
I wifti thee learning, not for mow,
Enough for to inftruft, and know ;
Not fuch as gentlemen require,
To prate at table or at fire. i
I wifti thee all thy mothers graces,
Thy fathers fortunes, and his places.
I wifti thee friends, and one at court,
Not to build on, but fupport ;
To keep thee, not in doing many 15
Oppreffions, but from fuffering any.
I wifti thee peace in all thy ways,
Nor lazy, nor contentious days ;
And, when thy foul and body part,
As innocent as now thou art, 20
* Born 1583; dyed 1635.
SONGS.
BY THOMAS CAREW, E S Q^*
MURDRING BEAUTY.
I'L gaze no more on her bewitching face,
Since ruine harbours there in every place :
For my enchanted foul alike fhe drowns
With calms and tempefts of her fmiles and frowns.
I'l love no more thofe cruel eyes of hers, 5
Which, pleas'd or anger'd, Hill are murderers.
For if me dart (like lightning) thro' the ayr
Her beams of wrath, fhe kils me with defpair ;
If fhe behold me with a pleafing eye,
I furfet with exceffe- of joy, and dye. iq
ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED.
JnLow ill doth he deferve a lover's name,
Whofe pale weak flame
Cannot retain
* Bern 1589; dyed 1639.
26 CAREW.
His heat in fpight of abfence or difdain ;
But doth at once, like paper fet on fire, 5
Burn and expire !
True love can never change his feat,
Nor did he ever love that could retreat.
That noble flame, which my breft keeps alive,
Shall ftill furvive 10
When my foule's fled ;
Nor (hall my love dye when my bodye's dead j
That lhall wait on me to the lower {hade,
And never fade.
My very afhes in their urn i$
Shall, like a hallowed lamp, for ever burn.
THE FAREWELL.
BY HENRY KING, BISHOP OF CHICHESTER.*
Splendidis longum <valedico nugis.
r 1 AREWELL, fond Love, under whofe childifh whip
I have ferv'd out a weary prentifhip ;
Thou that haft made me thy fcorn'd property,
To dote on rocks, but yielding loves to fly :
Go, bane of my dear quiet and content, 5
Now praftife on fome other patient.
Farewell, falfe Hope, that fann'd my warm defire,
Till it had rais'd a wild unruly fire,
Which nor fighs cool, nor tears extinguifti can,
Although my eyes out-flow'd the ocean : 10
Forth of my thoughts for ever, thing of air,
Begun in errour, finifh'd in defpair .
Farewell, vain World, upon whofe reftlefs ftage
Twixt Love and Hope, I have foold out my age ;
Henceforth, ere fue to thee for my redrefs, 1 5
He wooe the wind, or court the wildernefs ;
And buried from the dayes difcovery,
Study a flow yet certain way to dy.
* Born 1591 ; dyed 1669.
28 B P. KI N G.
My woful monument {hall be a cell,
The murmur of the purling brook my knell ;
My lafting epitaph the rock mall grone :
Thus when fad lovers afk the weeping ftone,
What wretched thing does in that center lie ?
The hollow eccho will reply, 'twas I.
THE STORY OF PHOEBUS AND DAPHNE
APPLIED.
BY EDMUND WALLER, E S <^. *
THIRSIS, a youth of the infpired train,
Fair Sacharifla lovM, but lov'd in vain :
Like Phoebus fung the no leiTe amorous boy ;
Like Daphne fhe, as lovely and as coy :
With numbers he the flying nimph purfues, 5
With numbers fuch as Phoebus felf might ufe :
Such is the chafe when love and fancy leads
Ore craggy mountains, and through flowry meads ;
Invok'd to teftifie the lovers care,
Or form fome image of his cruell fair. 10
Urg'd with his fury, like a wounded deer,
Ore thefe he fled ; and, now approaching near,
Had reacht the nimph with his harmonious lay,
Whom all his charms could not incline to ftay ;
Yet what he fung in his immortal lirain, 15
Though unfuccefsfull, was not fung in vain :
All, but the nimph that fhould redrefs his wrong,
Attend his paflion, and approve his fong.
Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unfought praife,
He catcht at love, and fill'd his arm with bayes,
* Born 1605 ; dyed 1687.
3<3 WALLER.
ON MY LADY ISABELLA PLAYING ON
THE LUTE.
BY THE SAME.
u u c H moving founds, from fuch a carelefs touch !
So unconcern'd herfelf, and we fo much !
What art is this, that, with fo little pains,
Tranfports us thus, and o're our fpirit reigns ?
The trembling firings about her fingers croud, 5
And tell their joy for every kifs aloud :
Small force there needs to make them tremble fo ;
Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too ?
Here Love takes ftand, and, while me charms the
ear,
Empties his quiver on the liflening deer: 10
Mufic fo foftens and difarms the minde,
That not an arrow does refiftance finde.
Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize,
And afts herfelf the triumph of her eyes :
So Nero once, with harp in hand, furvay'd 15
His flaming Rome, and as it burnt he play'd.
WALLER. 31
ON A TREE CUT IN PAPER.
BY THE SAME.
r 1 A i R hand ! that can on virgin-paper write,
Yet from the ftain of ink preferve it white ;
Whofe travel o're that filver field does mow
Like track of leveretts in morning fnow.
Love's image thus in pureft minds is wrought, 5
Without a fpot, or blemifh, to the thought.
Strange that your fingers (hould the pencil foyl,
Without the help of colours, or of oyl !
For, though a painter boughs and leaves can make,
'Tis you alone can make them bend and make :
Whofe breath falutes your new-created grove, 1 1
Like fouthern winds, and makes it gently move.
Orpheus could make the forreft dance ; but you
Can make the motion, and the forreft too.
L'ALLEGRO.
BY JOHN MILTON.*
HEN c E, loathed Melancholy !
Of Cerberus and blackeft midnight born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,
'Mongft horrid fhapes, and fhreiks, and fights unholy }
Find out fom uncouth cell, 5
Wher brooding Darknefs fpreads his jealous wings,
And the night-raven fings ;
There under ebon lhades, and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell. 10
But com thou goddefs fair and free,
In heav'n ycleap'd Euphrofyne,
And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
With two fitter Graces more, 15
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ;
Or whether (as fom fager fing)
The frolick wind that breathes the fpring,
Zephir, with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a maying, 20
* Barn 1608; dyed 1674.'
MILTON. 33
There on beds of violets blew,
And frefti-blown rofes wafht in dew,
Fill'd her with thee a daughter fair,
So buckfom, blith, and debonair.
Hafte thee nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft and youthful Jollity, 26
Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple (leek ; 30
Sport that wrincled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
Com, and trip it as you go
On the light fantaftick toe,
And in thy right hand lead with thee 35
The mountain nymph, fweet Liberty ;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crue,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleafures free ; 40
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And tinging ftartle the dull night,
From his watch-towre in the ikies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rife ;
Then to com, in fpight of forrow, 45
And at my window bid good morrow,
Through the fweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twifted eglantine :
VOL. I. C
34 MILTON.
While the cock, with lively din,
Scatters the rear of darknes thin, .50
And to the ftack, or the barn dore,
Stoutly ftruts his dames before :
Oft lift'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly roufe the flumbring Morn,
From the fide of fom hoar hill, 55
Through the high wood echoing fhrill.
Som time walking, not unfeen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right againft the Eaftern gate,
Where the great Sun begins his ftate, 60
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thoufand liveries dight ;
While the plow-man, neer at hand,
Whiffles ore the furrow'd land,
And the milk-maid fingeth blithe, 65
And the mower whets his lithe,
And every mepherd tells his tale,
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Streit mine eye hath caught new pleafures,
Whilft the lantfkip round it meafures, 70
Ruflet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibling flocks do ftray ;
Mountains, on whofe barren breft
The labouring clouds do often reft ;
Meadows trim with daifies pide, 75
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide.
MILTON, 35
Towers, and battlements it fees,
Bofom'd high in tufted trees,
Wher perhaps fom beauty lies,
The cynofure of neigbouring eyes. 80
Hard by,, a cottage chimney fmokes,
From betwixt two aged okes,
Where Corydon and Thyrfis met,
Are at their favory dinner fet,
Of hearbs, and other country mefles, 85
Which the neat-handed Phillis drefles ;
And then in hafte her bowre me leaves,
With Theftylis to bind the fheaves ;
Or if the earlier feafon lead,
To the tann'd haycock in the mead. 90
Sometimes with fecure delight
The upland hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocond rebecks found
To many a youth, and many a maid, 95
Dancing in the chequer'd made ;
And young and old com forth to play,
On a funmine holyday,
Till the live-long day-light fail ;
Then to the fpicy nut-brown ale, 100
With ftories told of many a feat,
How faery Mab the junkets eat,
She was pincht, and pull'd me fed,
And he, by friars lanthorn led,
C 2
MILTON.
Tells how the drudging Goblin fwet, 105
To era his cream-bowle duly fet,
When in one night, ere glimps of morn,
His ftiadowy flale hath threfh'd the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end ;
Then lies him down the lubbar fend, 1 10
And ftretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Baflcs at the fire his hairy ftrength,
And crop-full out of dores he flings,
Ere the firft cock his mattin rings.
Thus don their tales, to bed they creep,
By whifp'ring winds foon lull'd afleep. 1 1 6
Towred cities pleafe us then,
And the bufie humm of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold,
With flore of ladies, whofe bright eies 1 2 1
Rain influence, and judge the prife
Of wit, or arms, while both contend
To win her grace whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear, 125
In faffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feaft, and revelry,
And mafk and antique pageantry ;
Such fights as youthful poets dream,
On fummer eeves by haunted ftream.
Then to the well-trod ftage anon, 1 3 1
If Jonfons learned fock be on,
MILTON. 37
Or fweeteft Shakefpear, Fancies child,
Warble his native wood-notes wilde.
And ever againft eating cares, 135
Lap me in foft Lydian aires,
Married to immortal verfe,
Such as the meeting foul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of lincked fweetnefs, long drawn out, 1 40
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untwifting all the chains that ty
The hidden foul of harmony :
That Orpheus' felf may heave his head
From golden (lumber on a bed 146
Of heapt Elyfian flowres, and hear
Such ftreins as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half regain'd Eurydice. 150
Thefe delights if thou canft give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.
80578
38 MILTON,
IL PENSEROSO.
BY THE SAME.
HENCE, vain deluding joyes !
The brood of Folly without father bred ;
How little you befted,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toyes !
Dwell in fom idle brain, 5
And fancies fond with gaudy fhapes poflefs,
As thick and numberlefs,
As the gay motes that people the fun-beams,
Or likeft hovering dreams,
The fickle penfioners of Morpheus train. 10
But hail thou goddefs, fage and holy,
Hail divineft Melancholy,
Whofe faintly vifage is too bright
To hit the fenfe of human fight,
And therefore to our weaker view 1 5
Orelaid with black, ftaid Wifdoms hue ;
Black, but fuch as in efteem
Prince Memnons filler might befeem,
Or that ftarr'd Ethiope queen that ftrove
To fet her beauties praife above 20
The fea nymphs, and their powers offended :
Yet thou art higher far defcended ;
MILTON. 39
Thee bright-hair'd Vefta long of yore
To folitary Saturn bore ;
His daughter {he (in Saturns reign 25
Such mixture was not held a ftain)
Oft in glimmering bowres and glades
He met her, and in fecret fliades
Of woody Ida's inmoft grove,
While yet there was no fear of Jove. 30
Come, penfive nun, devout and pure,
Sober, ftedfafl, and demure,
All in a robe of darkeft grain,
Flowing with majeftick train,
And fable ftole of Cipres lawn, 35
Over thy decent moulders drawn.
Com, but keep thy wonted ftate,
With eev'n ftep, and mufing gate,
And looks commercing with the fkies,
Thy rapt foul fitting in thine eyes : 40
There held in holy paflion (till,
Forget thyfelf to marble, till
With a fad leaden downward caft
Thou fix them on the earth as faft.
And join withthee calm Peace and Quiet,
Spare Faft, that oft with gods doth diet,
And hears the Mufes in a ring 47
Ay round about Joves altar fing :
And add to thefe retired Leafure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleafure :
C 4
40 MILTON.
But firft and chiefeft with thee bring,
Him that yon foars on golden wing,
Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne,
The cherub Contemplation;
And the mute Silence hift along, 5 5
'Lefs Philomel will deign a fong,
In her fweeteft faddeft plight,
Smoothing the rugged brow of night,
While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke,
Gently o're th' accuftom'd oke j 60
Sweet bird that fhunn'ft the noife of folly,
Moft mufical, moft melancholy !
Thee chauntrefs oft, the woods among,
I woo to hear thy even- fong ;
And, miffing thee, I walk unfeen 65
On the dry fmooth-lhaven green,
To behold the wandring moon
Riding neer her higheft noon,
Like one that had bin led aftray,
Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way ;
And oft, as if her head {he bow'd, 7 1
Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Oft on a plat of rifing ground,
I hear the far-off curfeu found,
Over fome wide-water'd fhoar, 75
Swinging flow with fullen roar ;
Or if the air will not permit,
Som ftill removed place will fit.
MILTON. 41
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, 80
Far from all refort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth,
Or the belmans drowfie charm
To blefs the dores from nightly harm :
Or let my lamp at midnight hour, 85
Be feen in fom high lonely towr,
Where I may oft out-watch the Bear,
With thrice great Hermes, or unfphear
The fpirit of Plato, to unfold
What worlds, or what vaft regions hold
The immortal mind that hath forfook 91
Her manfion in this flefhly nook :
And of thofe Daemons that: are found
In fire, air, flood, or undv.T ground,
Whofe power hath a true c:onfent 95
With planet, or with elemtent.
Som time let gorgeous Tr agedy
In fcepter'd pall com fwec ping by,
Prefenting Thebs, or Pelops line,
Or the tale of Troy divine, 100
Or what (though rare) o F later age
Ennobled hath the bufkinc I ftage.
But, O fad Virgin, that thy power
Might raife Mufaeus from his bower,
Or bid the foul of Orphei is fmg 105
Such notes, as warbled to the ftring,
MILTON.
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek,
And made Hell grant what Love did feek.
Or call up him * that left half told
The ftory of Cambufcan bold, no
Of Camball, and of Algarfife,
And who had Canace to wife,
That own'd iihe virtuous ring and glafs,
And of the wondrous hors of brafs,
On which the: Tartar king did ride ; 1 15
And if ought els great Bards befide
In fage and fblemn tunes have fung,
Of turneys, ;lnd of trophies hung ;
Of forefts, a; id inchantments drear,
Where more ?is meant than meets the ear.
Thus Night oft fee me in thy pale career
Till civil-fuit ed Morn appear, 122
Not trickt an d frounc't as me was wont
With the Atti ck boy to hunt,
But cherchef t in a comely cloud, 125
While rockinr j winds are piping loud,
Or ufher'd wi th a fliower ftill,
When the guf t hath blown his fill,
Ending on thes rufsling leaves,
With minute * Irops from off the eaves.
And when the Sun begins to fling 131
His flaring be ims, me goddefs bring
* Ctaucei ; See bis Sjutres Tale.
MILTON. 43
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And fhadows brown that Sylvan loves,
Of pine, or monumental oake, 135
Where the rude ax, with heaved ftroke,
Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,
Or fright them from their hallovv'd haunt.
There in clofe covert by fome brook,
Where no profaner eye may look, 140
Hide me from Day's gariih eie,
While the bee with honied thie,
That at her flowry work doth fing,
And the waters murmuring,
With fuch confort as they keep, 145
Entice the dewy-feather'd Sleep ;
And let fom ftrange myfterious dream
Wave at his wings in airy ft re am
Of lively portrature difplay'd,
Softly on my eye-lids laid. 150
And as I wake, fweet mufick breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by fom fpirit to mortals good,
Or th' unfeen Genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail 155
To walk the ftudious cloyfters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antick pillars mafTy proof,
And ftoried windows richly dight,
Calling a dimm religious light. 160
MILTON.
There let the pealing organ blow
To the full voic'd quire below,
In fervice high, and anthems cleer,
As may with fweetnefs through mine ear,
DLflblve me into extafies, 165
And bring all Heav'n before mine eyes.
And may at laft my weary age
Find out the peacefull hermitage,
The hairy gown, and mofly cell,
Where I may fit and rightly fpell 170
Of every ftar that Heav'n doth mew,
And every herb that fips the dew ;
Till old experience do attain
To fom thing like prophetick ftrain.
Thefe pleafures Melancholy give, 175
And I with thee will choofe to live.
MILTON. 45
L Y C I D A S.
Iff this Monody the author bewails a learned friend, utifcr-
tunately droivn'd, in bii paffage from Chejler, on the Irijb
fiat, 1637. And by occafion ff ret els the ruin of our cor-
rupted clergy, then in their leight.
BY THE SAME.
I E T once more, O ye laurels, and once more,
Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never-fear,
I com to pluck your berries harih and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude
Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. <J
Bitter conftraint, and fad occafion dear
Compells me to difturb your feafon due :
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer :
Who would not fing for Lycidas ? he knew 10
Himfelf to fing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He muft not flote upon his watry biere
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind
Without the meed of fom melodious tear.
Begin then, filters of the facred well, 15
That from beneath the feat of Joue doth fpring;
Begin, and fomwhat loudly fweep the firing :
Hence with denial vain, and coy cxcufe :
So may fom gentle Mule
46 MILTON.
With lucky words favor my deftin'd urn, 20
And as he pafTes turn,
And bid fair peace be to my fable flirowd :
For we were nurft upon the felf-fame hill,
Fed the fame flock, by fountain, made, and rill.
Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 25
Under the opening eye -lids of the morn,
We drove a-field, and both together heard
What time the gray-fly winds her fultry horn,
Batt'ning our flocks with thofe frefh dews of night,
Oft till the ftar that rofe at ev'ning bright, 30
Toward Heav'ns defcent had flop'd his weltering
wheel.
Mean while the rural ditties were not mute,
Tempered to th' oaten flute,
Rough fatyrs danc'd, and fauns with cloven heel
From the glad found would not be abfent long, 3 5
And old Damaetas lov'd to hear our fong.
But O the heavy change, now thou art gon,
"Now thou art gon, and never muft return !
Thee, mepherd, thee the woods and defert caves
With wilde thyme and the gadding vine o'regrown,
And all their echoes mourn. 41
The willows and the hazle copfes green,
Shall now no more be feen,
Fanning their joyous leaves to thy foft layes.
As killing as the canker to the rofe, 45
Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze
MILTON. 47
Or froft to flowers, that their gay wardrop wear,
When firft the white thorn blows ;
Such, Lycidas, thy lofs to fhepherds ear.
Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorfelefs
deep 50
Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas ?
For neither were ye playing on the fteep,
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,
Nor on the fhaggy top of Mona high,
Nor yet where Deva fpreads her wifard ftream : 55
Ay me, I fondly dream !
Had ye bin there for what could that have don?
What could the Mufe herfelf that Orpheus bore ?
The Mufe herfelf for her inchanting fon,
Whom univerfal nature did lament, 60
When by the rout that made the hideous roar,
His goary vifage down the ftream was fent,
Down the fwift Hebrus to the Leftnan more.
Alas ! what boots it with uncefTant care
To tend the homely flighted fhepherds trade, 65
And ftriftly meditate the thanklefs Mufe ?
Were it not better don as others ufe,
To fport with Amaryllis in the made,
Or with the tangles of Neasra's hair ?
Fame is the fpur that the clear fpirit doth raife 70
(That laft infirmity of noble mind)
To fcorn delights, and live laborious dayes ;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find.
48 MILTON.
And think to burft out into fudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred {hears, 75
And flits the thin fpun life. But not the praife,
Phoebus repli'd, and touch'd my trembling ears ;
Fame is no plant that grows on mortal foil,
Nor in the glittering foil
Set off to th' world, nor in broad rumour lies, 80
But lives and fpreds aloft by thofe pure eyes,
And perfet witnes of all -judging Jove ;
As he pronounces laftly on each deed,
Of fo much fame in Heav'n expeft thy meed.
O fountain Arethufe, and thou honour'd floud, 85
Smooth-fliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds,
That ftrain I heard was of a higher mood :
But now my oat proceeds,
And liftens to the herald of the fea
That came in Neptune's plea ; 90
He aflt'd the waves, and afk'd the fellon winds,
What hard mimap hath doom'd this gentle fwain ?
And queftion'd every guft of rugged winds
That blows from off each beaked promontory ;
They knew not of his flory, 95
And fage Hippotades their anfwer brings,
That not a blaft was from his dungeon ftray'd,
The air was calm, and on the level brine
Sleek Panope with all her filters play'd.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark 100
Built in th' eclipfe, and rigg'd with curfes dark,
That funk fo low that facred head of thine.
MILTON. 49
Next Camus, reverend fire, went footing flow,
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet fedge,
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105
Like to that fanguine flower infcrib'd with woe.
Ah ! who hath reft (quoth he) my deareft pledge ?
Laft came, and laft did go,
The pilot of the Galilean lake.
Two mafly keyes he bore of metals twain, I IO
(The golden opes, the iron fhuts amain)
He fhook his miter'd locks, and ftern befpake,
How well could I have fpar'd for thee, young fwain,
Anow of fuch as for their bellies fake
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold I 115
Of other care they little reck'ning make>
Than how to fcramble at the (hearers feaft,
And (hove away the worthy bidden gueft ;
Blind mouthes ! that fcarce themfelves know how
to hold
A meep-hook, or have learn'd ought els the leaft
That to the faithfull herdmans art belongs ! 121
What recks it them ? what need they ? they are
fped;
And when they lift, their lean and flamy fongs
Grate on their fcrannel pipes of wretched ftraw ;
The hungry ftieep look up, and are not fed, 1 25
But fwoln with wind, and the rank mift they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion fpread :
Befides what the grim woolf with privy paw
VOL. I. D
50 M I L T O tf .
Daily devours apace; and nothing fed,
But that two-handed engine at the door, 13$
Stands ready to finite once, and finite no more.
Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is paft
That (hrunk thy ftreams ; return, Sicilian mufe,
And call the vales, and bid them hither caft
Their bells, and flourets of a thoufand hues. 135
Ye valleys low, where the milde whifpers ufe
Of fhades, and wanton winds, and gufhing brooks,
On whofe frelh lap the fwart ftar fparely looks,
Throw hither all your quaint enamel'd eyes,
That on the green turf fuck the honied fhowres,
And purple all the ground with vernal flowres 5141
Bring the rathe primrofe that forfaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale geffamine,
The white pink, and the panfie fret with jeat,
The glowing violet, 145
The mufk-rofe, and the well attir'd woodbine,
With cowflips wan that hang the penfive hed,
And every flower that fad embroidery wears ;
Bid Amaranthus all his beauty fhed,
And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150
To ftrow the laureat herfe where Lycid lies :
For fo to interpofe a little eafe,
Let our frail thoughts dally with falfe furmife.
Ay me ! whilft thee the mores and founding feas
Wafh far away, whereere thy bones are hurl'd,
Whether beyond the ftormy Hebrides, 156
MILTON. 5t
Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide,
Vifit'ft the bottom of the monftrous world ;
Or whether thou, to our moift vows deny'd,
Sleep'ft by the fable of Bellerus old, 160
Where the great vifion of the guarded mount
Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ;
Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth :
And, O ye dolphins, waft the haples youth.
Weep no more, woful fhepherds, weep no more,
For Lycidas your forrow is not dead, 1 66
Sunk though he be beneath the watry floar;
So finks the day-ftar in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new fpangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning flcy : 171
So Lycidas funk low, but mounted high,
Through the dear might of him that walk'd the
waves,
Where other groves, and other ftreams along,
With neftar pure his oozy locks he laves, 175
And hears the unexpreffive nuptial fong,
In the bleft kingdoms meek of joy and love ;
There entertain him all the faints above,
In folemn troops and fweet focieties,
That fing, and finging in their glory move, 180
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas, the fhepherds weep no more ;
Henceforth thou art the genius of the fhore,
D 2
52 MILTON*
In thy large recompenfe, and (halt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood. 185
Thus fang the uncouth fwain to th'oakes and
rills,
While the ftill morn went on with fandals gray,
He touch'd the tender flops of various quills,
With eager thought warbling his Dorick lay :
And now the fun had ftretch'd out all the hills,
And now was dropt into the weftern bay ; 191
At laft he role, and twitch'd his mantle blew :
Tomorrow to frefh woods, and paftures new.
SONNET.
BY THE SAME.
O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy fpray
Warbl'ft at eeve, when all the woods are ftill,
Thou with frefh hope the lovers heart doft fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,
Thy liquid notes that clofe the eye of day, 5
Firft heard before the mallow cuccoo's bill
Portend fuccefs in love ; O, if Jove's will
Hare linkt that amorous power to thy foft lay,
MILTON. 53
Now timely fmg, ere the rude bird of hate
Foretell my hopeles doom in fom grove ny : 10
As thou from yeer to yeer haft lung too late
For my relief ; yet hadft no reafon why :
Whether the Mufe, or Love call thee his mate,
Both them I ferve, and of their train am I.
MISCELLANEOUS THOUGHTS.
BY SAMUEL BUTLER.*
SHOULD once the world refolve t'abolifh
All that's ridiculous and foolifh,
Jt would have nothing left to do,
T' apply in jeft or earned to,
No bufmefs of importance, play,
Or ftate, to pafs its time away.
Who doth not know with what fierce rage
Opinions, true or falfe, engage ;
And, 'caufe they govern all mankind,
Like the blind's leading of the blind, 10
All claim an equal intereft,
And free dominion, o'er the reft.
And, as one fhield that fell from heaven
Was counterfeited by eleven,
The better to fecure the fate 15
And lafting empire of a ftate,
The falfe are numerous, and the true,
That only have the right, but few.
Hence fools, that underftand them leaft,
Are ftill the fierceft in conteft ; 20
* Born 1612; died 1680.
BUTLER. 55
Unfight, unfcen, efpoufe a fide
At random, like a prince's bride,
To damn their fouls, and fwear and lye for,
And at a venture live and die for.
A godly man, that has ferv'd out his time 25
In holinefs, may fet up any crime ;
As fcholars, when they've taken their degrees,
May fet up any faculty they pleafe.
~W9 *
Why mould not piety be made,
As well as equity, a trade, 30
And men get money by devotion,
As well as making of a motion ?
B' allow'd to pray upon conditions,
As well as fuitors in petitions ?
And in a congregation pray, 35
No lefs than Chancery, for pay ?
All writers, though of different fancies, t
Do make all people in romances,
That are diftrefs'd and difcontent,
Make fongs, and fing t' an inftrument, 40
And poets by their fufferings grow ;
As if there were no more to do,
To make a poet excellent,
Put only want and difcontent.
56 BUTLER.
In foreign univerfities, 45
When a king's born, or weds, or dies,
Straight other ftudies are laid by,
And all apply to poetry :
Some write in Hebrew, fome in Greek,
And fome, more wife, in Arabic, 50
T' avoid the critic, and th' expence
Of difficulter wit and fenfe ;
And feem more learnedifh than thofe
That at a greater charge compote.
The doftors lead, the ftudents follow; 55
Some call him Mars, and fome Apollo,
Some Jupiter, and give him th' odds,
On even terms, of all the gods :
Then Czefar he's nicknam'd, as duly as
He that in Rome was chriften'd Julius, 60
And was addrefs'd to, by a crow,
As pertinently long ago ;
And, as wit goes by colleges,
As well as ftanding and degrees,
He ftill writes better than the reft, 65
That's of the houfe that's counted beft.
What makes all fubjefts difcontent
Againft a prince's government,
And princes take as great offence
At fubje&s' difobedience, 79
That neither th' other can abide,
J?ut too much reafon on each fide?
BUTLER. 5f
No court allows thofe partial interlopers
Of Law and Equity, two fingle paupers,
T' encounter hand to hand, and trounce 75
Each other gratis in a {bit at once :
For one at one time, and upon free coft, is
Enough to play the knave and fool with juftice ;
And, when the one fide bringeth cuftom in,
And th' other lays out half the reckoning, 80
The devil himfelf will rather chufe to play
At paltry fmall game than fit out, they fay ;
But when at all there's nothing to be got,
The old wife Law and Juftice, will not trot.
All fmatterers are more briflc and pert 85
Than thofe that underftand an art ;
As little fparkles (bine more bright
Than glowing coals, that give them light.
As he that makes his mark is underftood
To write his name, and 'tis in law as good ; 90
So he that cannot write one word of fenfe,
Believes he has as legal a pretence
To fcribble what he does not underftand,
As ideots have a title to their land.
. All the inventions that the world contains, 95
Were not by reafon firft found out, nor brains ;
But pafs for theirs who had the luck to light
Upon them by miftake or overfight.
COOPERS HILL.
BY 6IR JOHN DENHAM.*
SURE there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnaflus, nor did tafte the ftream
Of Helicon ; we therefore may fuppofe
Thofe made not poets, but the poets thofe :
And, as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So where the Mufes and their train refort, 6
ParnafTus ftands ; if I can be to thee
. A poet, thou Parnaflus art to me.
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy aufpicious height) 10
Through untrac't ways and aery paths I flye,
More boundlefle in my fancy than my eye :
My eye, which fwift as thought contracts the fpace
That lies between, and firft falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, fo valt, fo high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth, or fky, 16
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Afpiring mountain, or defcending cloud,
Paul's, the late theme of fuch a mufe f whofe flight
Has bravely reach't and foar'd above thy height :
* Brni6i 5 ; died 1688.
t Mr. Waller.
DEN HAM. 59
Now (halt thou ftand, though fword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall confpire,
Secure, whilft thee the beft of poets fings,
Preferv'd from ruin by the beft of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies, 25
And like a mift beneath a hill doth rife ;
Whofe ftate and wealth, the bufinefs and the crowd,
Seems at this diftance but a darker cloud :
And is to him who rightly things efteems
No other in effeft than what it feems : 30
Where,withlike hafte, though feveral ways,they run,
Some to undo, and fome to be undone ;
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the others ruine, and increafe ;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein 35
Thence reconveys, there to be loft again.
Oh happinefs of fweet retir'd content !
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells 40
Into my eye, and doth itfelf prefent
With fuch an eafie and unforc't afcent,
That no ftupendious precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes :
But fuch a rife as doth at once invite 45
A pleafure, and a reverence from the fight :
Thy mighty matters emblem, in whofe face
Sate meeknefs, heightned with majeftick grace.
60 D E N H A M.
Such feems thy gentle height, made only proud
To be the bafis of that pompous load, 50
Than which, a nobler weight no mountain bears,
But Atlas only which fupports the fphears.
When Natures hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wifer power than Chance ;
Mark'd out for fuch a ufe, as if 'twere meant 55
T' invite the builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when that we chufe,
Folly or blindnefs only could refufe.
A crown of fuch majeftick tow'rs doth grace
The gods great mother, when her heavenly race
Do homage to her, yet me cannot boaft 61
Among that numerous, and celeftial hoft,
More hero's than can Windfor, nor can Fames
Immortal book record more noble names.
Not to look back fo far, to whom this ifle 65
Owes the firft glory of fo brave a pile,
Whether to Casfar, Albanaft, or Brute,,
The Britifti Arthur, or the Danifh Knute,
(Tho' this of old no lefs conteft did move,
Than when for Homers birth feven cities ftrove)
(Like him in birth, thou fhould'ft be like in fame,
As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame)
But whofoe're it was, Nature defign'd
Firft a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to. recount thofe feveral kings, to whom 75
It gave a cradle, or to whom a tomb ;
DE N H A M. 6l
But thee, great Edward, and thy greater fon,*
(The lillies which his father wore, he won)
And thy Bellona,f who the confort came
Not only to thy bed, but to thy fame, 80
She to thy triumph led one captive king,
And brought that fon, which did the fecond bring. J
Then didft thou found that order (whether love
Or viftory thy royal thoughts did move,
Each was a noble caufe, and nothing lefs 85
Than the defign, has been the great fuccefs,)
Which foreign kings, and emperours efteem
The fecond honour to their diadem.
Had thy great deftiny but giv'n thee flail
To know, as well as power to aft, her will, 90
That from thofe kings, who then thy captives were,
In after-times mould Ipring a royal pair
Who mould poflefs all that thy mighty power,
Or thy defires more mighty, did devour :
To whom their better fate referves whate're -95
The viftor hopes for, or the vanquifht fear ;
That bloud, which thou and thy great grandfire ftied>
And all that fmce thefe fitter nations bled,
Had been unfpilt, had happy Edward known
That all the blood he fpilt had been his own. 100
* Edward the third, and the Black Prince.
+ Queen Philip.
} The kings of France and Scotland.
62 D E N H A M.
When he that patron chofe, in whom are joyn'd
Soldier and martyr, and his arms confin'd
Within the azare circle, he did feem
But to foretell, and prophefie of him,
Who to his realms that azure round hath joyn'd,
Which nature for their bound at firft defign'd. 106
That bound, which to the worlds extreameft ends,
Endlefs itfelf, it's liquid arms extends.
Nor doth he need thofe emblems which we paint,
But is himfelf the foldier and the faint. 1 10
Here (hould my wonder dwell, and here my praife,
But my fixt thoughts my wandering eye betrays,
Viewing a neighbouring hill, whofe top of late
A chappel crown'd 'till in the common fate
The adjoyning abby fell : (may no fuch ftorm
Fall on our times, where mine muft reform.) 1 16
Tell me, my mufe, what monftrous dire offence,
What crime could any Chriftian king incenfe
To fuch a rage ? Was't luxury, or luft ?
Was he fo temperate, fo chart, fo juft? 120
Were thefe their crimes ? They were his own much
more :
But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor,
Who having fper.t the treafures of his crown,
Condemns their luxury to feed his own.
And yet this adt, to varnifh o're the Ihame I z$
Of facriledge, muft bear devotions name.
No crime fo bold, but would be underftood
A real, or at leaft a feeming good :
DEN HAM. 63
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name,
And free from confcience is a flave to fame : 1 30
Thus he the church at once protefts, and fpoils :
But princes fvvords are {harper than their ftiles.
And thus to th' ages paft he makes amends ;
Their charity deftroys, their faith defends.
Then did religion in a lazy cell, 135
In empty airy contemplations dwell ;
And like the block, unmoved lay ; but ours,
As much too aftive, like the ftork devours.
Is there no temperate region can be known,
Betwixt their frigid, and our torrid zone ? 140
Cou'd we not wake from that lethargick dream,
But to be reftlefs in a worfe extream ?
And for that lethargy was there no cure,
But to be caft into a calenture ?
Can knowledge have no bound, but mufl advance
So far, to make us wilh for ignorance ? 146
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a falfe guide to erre by day ?
Who fees thefe difmal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous invader fackt the land ? 150
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring
This defolation, but a Chriftian king ;
When nothing, but the name of zeal, appears
'Twixt our beft actions and the word of theirs,
What does he think our facriledge would fpare,
When fuch th' effects of our devotions are ? 156
64 DENHAM.
Parting from thence 'twixt anger, fhame arid fearV
Thofe for what's paft, and this for what's too near,
My eye, defcending from the hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton vallies ftrays :
Thames, the moft lov'd of all the Oceans fons
By his old fire, to his embraces runs ;
Hafting to pay his tribute to the fea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.
Though with thofe ftreams he no refemblance hold,
Whofe foam is amber, and their gravel gold ; 166
His genuine and lefs guilty wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his more ;
O'er which he kindly fpreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th' enfuing fpring. 1 70
Nor then deftroys it with too fond a ftay,
Like mothers which their infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous ware,
Like profufe kings, refumes the wealth he gave.
No unexpected inundations fpoyl 175
The mowers hopes, nor mock the plowmans toyl :
But god-like his unwearied bounty flews ;
Firft loves to do, then loves the good he does.
Nor all his bleffings to his banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the fea or wind; 180-
When he to boaft, or to difperfe his ftores,
Full of the tributes of his grateful Ihores,
Vifits the world, and in his flying towers
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours ;>
D E N H A Mk 65
Finds wealth where 'tis, beftows it where it wants,
Cities in defarts, woods in cities plants ; 186
So that to us no thing, no place, is ftrange,
While his fair bofom is the worlds exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy ftream
My great example, as it is my theme ! 190
Though deep, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull >
Strong without rage, without o're-flowing full.
Heaven her Eridanus no more fhall boaft,
Whofe fame in thine like lefler current's loft ;
Thy nobler ftreams (hall vifit Joves abodes, 195
To mine among the ftars, and bath the gods.
Here * Nature, whether more intent to pleafe
Us or herfelf, with ftrange varieties,
(For things of wonder give no lefs delight
To the wife maker's, than beholder's fight : 200
Though thefe delights from feveral caufes move ;
For fo our children, thus our friends we love ;)
Wifely fhe knew, the harmony of things,
As well as that of founds, from difcord fprings.
Such was the difcord, which did firft difperfe 205
Form, order, beauty, through the univerfe :
While drinefs moyfture, coldnefs heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts :
While the fteep horrid roughnefs of the wood
Strives with the gentle calmnefs of the flood. 210
The Forcft.
VOL. I. E
66 D E N H A M .
Such huge extreams when nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence delight.
The ftream is fo tranfparent, pure and clear,
That had the felf-enamour'd youth * gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been, 2 1 5
While he the bottom, not his face had feen.
But his proud head the aery mountain hides
Among the clouds ; his moulders and his fides
A fliady mantle cloaths ; his curled brows
Frown on the gentle ftream, which calmly flows ;
While winds and ftorms his lofty forehead beat :
The common fate of all that's high or great.
Low at his foot a fpacious plain is plac't,
Between the mountain and the ftream embrac't ;
Which fhade and (helter from the hill derives, 225
While the kind river health and beauty gives ;
And in the mixture of all thefe appears
Variety, which all the reft indears.
This fcene had fome bold Greek, or Britim bard
Beheld of old, what ftories had we heard 230
Of fairies, fatyrs, and the nymphs their dames,
Their feafts, their revels, and their amorous flames !
'Tis ftill the fame, although their aery fhape
All but a quick poetick fight efcape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts,
And thither all the horned hoft reforts 236
* Narciffu*.
fcENHAM, 6?
To graze the ranker mead, that noble heard,
On whofe fublime and fliady fronts is rear'd
Nature's great matter-piece ; to fhew how foon
Great things are made, but fooner are undone. 240
Here have I feen the king, when great affairs
Gave leave to flacken, and unbend his cares,
Attended to the chafe by all the flower
Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devour :
Pleafure with praife, and danger they would buy,
And wifh a foe that would not only flye. 246
The flag now confcious of his fatal growth,
At once indulgent to his fear and floth,
To fome dark covert his retreat had made,
Where nor mans eye, nor heavens mould invade
His foft repofe ; when th' unexpected found 25 1
Of dogs, and men, his wakeful ear doth wound :
Rouz'd with the noife, he fcarce believes his ear,
Willing to think th' illufions of his fear
Had giv'n this falfe alarm, but ftraight his view
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true. 256
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet ;
All inftruments, all arts of ruine met ;
He calls to mind his ftrength, and then his fpeed,
His winged heels, and then his armed head ; 260
With thefe t' avoid, with that his fate to meet :
But fear prevails, and bids him trail: his feet.
So fail he flies, that his reviewing eye
Has loft the chafers, and his ear the cry ;
2
68 D E N H A M.
.Exulting, 'till he finds their nobler fenfe 26$
Their difproportion'd fpeed does recompenfe ;
Then curfes his confpiring feet, whofe fcent
Betrays that fafety which their fwiftnefs lent.
Then tries his friends ; among the bafer herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd, 270
His fafety feeks : The herd, unkindly wife,
Or chafes him from thence, or from him flies ;
Like a declining ftates-man, left forlorn
To his friends pity, and purfuers fcorn,
With mame remembers, while himfelf was one
Of the fame herd, himfelf the fame had done. 276
Thence to the coverts, and the confcious groves,
The fcenes of his paft triumphs, and his loves ;
Sad!y furveying where he rang'd alone
Prince of the foyl, and all the herd his own ; 280
And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim
Combat to all, and bore away the dame ;
And taught the woods to eccho to the ftream
His dreadful challenge, and his claming beam :
Yet faintly now declines the fatal ftrife ; 285
So much his love was dearer than his life.
Now every leaf, and every moving breath,
Prefents a foe, and ev'ry foe a death.
Wearied, forfaken, and purfu'd, at laft
All fafety in defpair of fafety plac'd, 29*
Courage he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear
All their afiaults, fmce 'tis in vain to fear :
DEN HAM. 69
And now too late he wiflies for the fight
That ftrength he wafted in ignoble flight :
But when he fees the eager chafe renew'd, 295
Himfelf by dogs, the dogs by men purfu'd,
He ftraight revokes his bold refolve, and more
Repents his courage, than his fear before ;
Finds that uncertain ways unfafeft are,
And doubt a greater mifchief than defpair. 300
Then to the ftream, when neither friends, nor force.
Nor fpeed, nor art avail, he fhapes his courfe ;
Thinks not their rage fo defperate t' aflay
An element mora mercilefs than they ;
But fearlefs they purfue, nor can the floud 305
Quench their dire thirft ; alas, they thirft for bloud.
So towards a fhip the oare-fin'd gallies ply,
Which wanting fea to ride, or wind to fly,
Stands but to fall reveng'd on thofe that dare
Tempt the laft fury of extream defpair. 310
So fares the ftag, among th' enraged hounds,
Repels their force, and wounds returns for wounds.
And as a hero, whom his bafer foes
In troops furround, now thefe afTails, now thofe,
Though prodigal of life, difdains to die 315
By common hands ; but if he can delcry
Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls,
And begs his fate, and then contented falls.
So when the king a mortal (haft lets flye
From his unerring hand, then glad to dye, 329
JO DEN H A M.
Proud of the wound, to it refigns his blood,
And flains the cryftal with a purple flood.
This a more innocent, and happy chafe,
Than when of old, but in the felf-fame place,
Fair Liberty purfu'd, and meant a prey 325
To lawlefs power, here turn'd, and flood at bay.*
When in that remedy all hope was plac't,
Which was, or mould have been at leaft, the laft.
Here was that charter feal'd,f wherein the crown
All marks of arbitrary pow'r lays down : 230
Tyrant and flave, thofe names of hate and fear,
The happier ftile of king and fubjeft bear :
Happy, when both to the fame center move,
When kings give liberty, and fubjefts love.
Therefore not long in force this charter flood ;
Wanting that feal, it muft be feal'd in blood. 336
The fubjedls arm'd, the more their princes gave,
Th' advantage only took, the more to crave :
Till kings, by giving, give themfelves away,
And even that power, that mould deny, betray.
" Who gives conftrain'd, but his own fear reviles,
" Not thank'd, but fcorn'd ; nor are they gifts but
fpoils."
Thus kings, by grafping more than they could hold,
Firft made their fubjeds, by oppreffion, bold ;
* Runny Mead, where that great charter was firll fcaled.
t Magna Charts.
DEN HAM. 71
And popular fway, by forcing kings to give 345
More than was fit for fubjedls to receive,
Ran to the fame extreams ; and one excefs
Made both, by ftriving to be greater, lefs.
When a calm river rais'd with fudden rains,
Or fnows diflblv'd, o'reflows th' adjoyning plains,
The hufbandmen with high-rais'd banks fecure
Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure.
But if with bays and dams they ftrive to force
His channel to a new, or narrow courfe ;
No longer then within his banks he dwells, 355
Firft to a torrent, then a deluge fwells :
Stronger and fiercer by reftraint he roars,
And knows no bound, but makes his power his
fhores.
E 4
TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON,
BY RICHARD LOVELACE, E S Q^*
Vv H E N Love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whifper at my grates ;
When I lye tangled in her haire, 5
And fetter'd ' with' her eye,
The ' birds' tfiat wanton in the aire
Know no fuch liberty. ^
When flowing cups run fwiftly round
With no allaying Thames, 10
Our carelefle heads with rofes crown'd,
Our hearts with loyall flames ;
When thirfty griefe in wine we fteepe,
When healths and draughts go free,
Fifties that tipple in the deepe 15
Know no fuch libertie.
When, ' linnet-like, confined' I
With fhriller note mail fmg
The fweetnefs, mercy, majefty,
And glories of my king ; jo
* Born 1618; dyed 1658.
V. 6. to. V, 7. Gods.
V. 17. (like committed linnet*).
LOVELACE, 73
When I fhall voyce aloud how good
He is, how great fhould be,
[Th'] inlarged windes, that curie the flood,
Know no fuch libertie,,
Stone walls doe not a prifon make, 25
Nor iron bars a cage ;
Mindes innocent, and quiet, take
That for a hermitage :
If I have freedome in my love,
And in my foule am free j 30
Angels alone, that fore above,
Injoy fuch libertie.
THE WAITING- MAID.
BY ABRAHAM COWLEY,
THY Maid? Ah, find fome nobler theme,
Whereon thy doubts to place ;
Nor, by a low fufpect, blafpheme
The glories of thy face.
Alas, ftie makes thee mine fo fair, 5
So exquifitely bright,
That her dim lamp muft difappear
Before thy potent light.
Three hours each morn in drafting thee,
Maliciously are fpent ; 10
And make that beauty tyranny,
That's elfe a civil-government,
Th' adorning thee with fo much art
Is but a barb'rous {kill ;
'Tis like the pois'ning of a dart, ic,
Too apt before to kill.
A>ri6i8; Jjii 1667.
COWLEY. 75
The miniftring angels none can fee ;
'Tis not their beauty or face,
For which by men they worlhip'd be ;
But their high office, and their place. 20
Thou art my goddefs ; my faint, fhe ;
I pray to her, only to pray to thee,
THE EPICURE.
[FROM ANACREON.]
PY THE SAME.
UNDERNEATH this myrtle (hade,
On flow'ry beds fupinely laid,
With od'rous oyls my head o'erflowing,
And around it rofes growing,
What mould I do but drink away
The heat, and troubles of the day ?
In this more than kingly ftate,
Love himfelf mall on me wait.
Fill to me, Love ; nay, fill it up ;
And mingled caft into the cup 1
Wit, and mirth, and noble fires,
Vigorous health, and gay defires ;
76 C O WL E Y.
The wheel of life no lefs will flay
In a fmooth, than rugged way :
Since it equally doth fly, 15
Let the motion pleafant be.
Why do we precious ointments mow'r,
Nobler wines why do we pour,
Beauteous flowers why do we fpread,
Upon the mon'ments of the dead ? 20
Nothing they but duft can (how,
Or bones that haften to be fo.
Crown me with rofes whilft I live,
Now your wines and ointments give :
After death I nothing crave, T 25
Let me alive my pleafures have, >
All are ftoicks in the grave. J
CLAUDIANS OLD MAN OF VERONA.
BY THE SAME.
H A p p Y the man, who his whole time doth bound,
Within th' enclofure of his little ground.
Happy the man, whom the fame humble place,
(Th' hereditary cottage of his race)
COWL E Y. 77
From his firft rifing infancy has known, 5
And by degrees fees gently bending down
With natural propenfion to that earth,
Which both preferv'd his life, and gave him birth.
Him no falfe diilant lights, by Fortune fet,
Could ever into foolifh wandrings get. 10
He never dangers either faw or fear'd :
The dreadful ftorms at fea he never heard.
He never heard the fhrill alarms of war,
Or the worfe noifes of the lawyers bar.
No change of confuls marks to him the year, 15
The change of feafons is his calendar.
The cold and heat winter and fummer mows,
Autumn by fruits, and fpring by flow'rs, he knows.
He meafures time by land-marks, and has found
For the whole day the dial of his ground. 20
A neighb'ring wood born with himfelf he fees,
And loves his old contemporary trees.
H' as only heard of near Verona's name,
And knows it like the Indies, but by fame,
Does with a like concernment notice take z
Of the Red-fea, and of Benacus lake.
Thus health and ftrength he to a third age enjoys.
And fees a long pofterity of boys.
About the fpacious world let others roam,
The voyage life is longeft made at home. 30
7 C O W L E Y ^
PRAYER.
[ FROM HIS OWN LATIN. J
BY THE SAME.
Jb o R the few hours of life allotted me,
Give me (great God) but bread and liberty ;
I'll beg no more : if more thou'rt pleas'd to give,
I'll thankfully that overplus receive :
If beyond this no more be freely fent, 5
I'll thank for this, and go away content.
THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE
DEATH OF HER FAWN.
BY ANDREW MARVELL, E S O^*
J. H E wanton troopers riding by
Have ftiot my fawn, and it will die.
Ungentle men ! They cannot thrive
That kill'd thee. Thou ne'er didft alive
Them any harm : alas, nor could 5
Thy death yet do them any good.
I'm fure I never wifht them ill ;
Nor do I for all this ; nor will :
But, if my fimple pray'rs may yet
Prevail with heaven to forget 10
Thy murder, I will join my tears
Rather than fail. But, O my fears !
It cannot die fo. Heav'n's King
Keeps regifter of every thing :
And nothing may we ufe in vain, 1 5
Ev'n beafts mult be with juftice (lain.
Unconftant Sylvio, when yet
I had not found him counterfeit,
Bern 1620; djtd 1678.
80 AlARVELt.
One morning (I remember well)
Ty'd in this filver chain and bell, 26
Gave it to me : nay, and I know
What he faid then ; I'm fure I do.
Said he, look how your huntfman here
Hath taught a fawn to hunt his dear.
But Sylvio foon had me beguil'd : 25
This waxed tame, while he grew wild ;
And quite regardlefs of my fmart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.
Thenceforth I fet myfelf to play
My folitary time away, 30
With this : and very well content,
Could fo mine idle life have fpent :
For it was full of fport ; and light
Of foot, and heart ; and did invite
Me to its game: it feem'd to blefs 35
Itfelf in me. How could I lefs
Than love it ? O I cannot be
Unkind t' a beaft that loveth me.
Had it liv'd long, I do not know
Whether it too might have done fo 40
As Sylvio did ; his gifts might be
Perhaps as falfe, or more than he.
But I am fure, for ought that I
Could in fo fhort a time efpy,
Thy love was far more better than 45
The love of falfe and cruel man.
M A R V L L. 8l
With fweeteft milk, and fugar, firft
I it at mine own fingers nurfl :
And as it grew, fo every day
It wax'd more white and fweet than they.
It had fo fweet a breath ! and oft 5 1
I blumt to fee its foot more foft
And white, mall I fay than my hand ?
Nay, any lady's of the land.
It is a wond'rous thing how fleet 55
'Twas on thofe little filver feet :
With what a pretty fkipping grace,
It oft would challenge me the race
And when 't had left me far away,
'Twould flay, and run again, and flay.
For it was nimbler much than hinds ; 6 1
And trod, as if on the four winds.
I have a garden of my own,
But fo with rofes overgrown,
And lillies, that you would it guefs 65
To be a little wildernefs.
And all the fpring-time of the year
It only loved to be there.
Among the beds of lillies I
Have fought it, oft, where it mould lye :
Yet could not, till itfelf would rife, 71
Find it, although before mine eyes :
For, in the flaxen lillies made,
It like a bank of lillies laid.
VOL. I. F
M A R V E L L .
Upon the rofes it would feed, 75
Untill its lips ev'n feem'd to bleed :
And then to me 'twould boldly trip,
And print thofe rofes on my lip.
But all its chief delight was ftill
On rofes thus its felf to fill : 80
And its pure virgin limbs to fold
In whiteft fheets of lillies cold.
Had it liv'd long, it would have been
Lillies without, rofes within.
help ! O help ! I fee it faint : 85
And die as calmly as a faint.
See now it weeps. The tears do come
Sad, flowly dropping like a gumme.
So weeps the wounded balfome : fo
The holy frankincenfe doth flow. 90
The brotherlefs Heliades
Melt in fuch amber tears as thefe.
1 in a golden vial will
Keep thefe two cryftal tears ; and fill
It 'till it do o'erflow with mine ; 95
Then place it in Diana's fhrine.
Now my fweet fawn is vanim'd to
Whither the fwans and turtles go :
In fair Elyzium to endure,
With milk-white lambs, and ermins, pure,
O do not run too fall : for I 101.
Will but befpeak thy grave, and die.
MARVELL. 83
Firft my unhappy ftatue- fhall
Be cut in marble ; and withal,
Let it be weeping too : but there 105
Th' engraver fure his art may {pare ;
For I fo truly thee bemoan,
That I fhall weep though I be ftone :
Untill my tears, flill dropping, wear
My breaft, themfelves engraving there*
There at my feet fhalt thou be laid, 1 1 1
Of pureft alabafler made :
For I would have thine image be
White as I can, though not as thee.
F t
HORACE. LIB. iv. ODE 7.
BY SIR WILLIAM TEMPLE, BART.*
J. H E fnows are melted all away,
The fields grow flow'ry, green, and gay,
The trees put on their tender leaves ;
And all the ftreams, that went aftray,
The brook again into her bed receives. 5
See ! the whole earth has made a change :
The nymphs and graces naked range
About the fields, who fhrunk before
Into their caves. The empty grange
Prepares its room for a new fummer's ftore. I
Left thou fhouldft hope immortal things,
The changing year inftruftion brings,
The fleeting hour, that fteals away
The beggar's time, and life of kings,
But ne'er returns them, as it does the day. 15
The cold grows foft with weftern gales,
The Summer over Spring prevails,
But yields to Autumn's fruitful rain,
As this to Winter ftorms and hails ;
Each lofs the halting moons repair again. 29
* Born 1628; dyed 1698.
TEMPLE. 85
But we, when once our race is done,
With Tullus, and Anchifes' fon,
(Though rich like one, like t'other good)
To duft and {hades, without a fun,
Defcend, and fink in deep oblivion's flood. 25
Who knows, if the kind gods will give
Another day to men that live
In hope of many diflant years ;
Or if one night more mall retrieve
The joys thou lofeft by thy idle fears ? 30
The pleafant hours thou fpend'ft in health,
The ufe thou mak'ft of youth and wealth,
As what tbou giv'ft among thy friends
Efcapes thy heirs, fo thofe the Health
Of time and death, where good and evil ends. 35
For when that comes, nor birth, nor fame,
Nor piety, nor honeft name,
Can e'er reftore thee. Thefeus bold,
Nor chafte Hippolitus could tame
Devouring Fate, that fpares nor young nor old.
SONG,
BT CHARLES COTTON,
I.
FIE, pretty Doris ! weep no more,
Damon is doubtlefs fafe on ftioar,
Defpight of wind and wave ;
The life is fate-free that you cherifh,
And 'tis unlike he now mould perifh 5
You once thought fit to fave.
II.
Dry (fweet) at laft, thofe twins of light,
Which whilft eclips'd, with us 'tis night,
And all of us are blind :
The tears that you fo freely ftied, |O
Are both too precious for the dead,
And for the quick too kind.
III.
Fie, pretty Doris ! figh no more,
The gods your Damon will reflore,
From rocks and quickfands free ; I J
Your wifties will fecure his way,
And doubtlefs he, for whom you pray,
May laugh at defHny.
* Btrn 1630;
C. COTTON.
IV.
Still then thofe tempefts of your breaft,
And fet that pretty heart at reft, 20
The man will foon return :
Thofe fighs for heav'n are only fit,
Arabian gums are not fo fweet,
Nor offerings when they burn.
V.
On him you lavifh grief in vain, 25
Can't be lamented, nor complain,
Whilft you continue true :
That ' man' difafter is above,
And needs no pity, that does love
And is belov'd by you. 30
THE MORNING QUATRAINS.
BY THE SAME.
I.
THE cock has crow'd an hour ago,
'Tis time we now dull deep forgo ;
Tir'd nature is by deep redrefs'd,
And labour's overcome by reft.
V, ag. man's,
88 C. COTTON.
II.
We have out-done the work of night, 5
'Tis time we rife t' attend the light,
And e'er he fhall his beams difplay,
To plot new bus'nefs for the day.
III.
None but the flothfull, or unfound,
Are by the fun in feathers found, 10
Nor, without rifing with the fun,
Can the world's bus'nefs e'er be done,
IV.
Hark ! hark ! the watchfull chanticleer
Tells us the day's bright harbinger
Peeps o'er the Eaftern hills, to awe 15
And warn night's fov'reign to withdraw.
V.
The morning curtains now are drawn,
And now appears the blufhing dawn ;
Aurora has her rofes med,
To ftrew the way Sol's fteeds muft tread. 20
VI.
Xanthus and jEthon harnefs'd are,
To roll away the burning carr,
And, fnorting flame, impatient bear
The dreffing of the chariotier.
C. COTTON. 89
VII.
The fable cheeks of fullen Night 25
Are ftreak'd with rofie ftreams of light,
Whilft fhe retires away in fear,
To fliade the other hcmifphere.
VIII.
The merry lark now takes her wings,
And long'd-for days loud wellcome fings, 30
Mounting her body out of fight,
As if fhe meant to meet the light.
IX.
Now doors and windows are unbar'd,
Each-where are chearfull voices heard,
And round about good-morrows fly, 35
As if day taught humanity.
X.
The chimnies now to fmoke begin,
And the old wife fits down to ipin,
Whilft Kate, taking her pail, does trip
Mulls fwoln and ftradl'ing paps to ftrip. 40
XI.
Vulcan now makes his anvil ring,
Dick whittles loud, and Maud doth fing,
And Silvio with his bugle horn
Winds an imprime unto the morn.
90 C. COTTON.
XII.
Now through the morning doors behold 4$
Phoebus array M in burning gold,
Lafhing his fiery fteeds, difplays
His warm and all enlight'ning rays.
XIII.
Now each one to his work prepares,
All that have hands are "labourers, 50
And manufactures of each trade
By op'ning {hops are open laid.
XIV.
Hob yokes his oxen to the team,
The angler goes unto the ftream,
The wood-man to the ' purlew hies,' 55
And lab'ring bees to load their thighs.
XV.
Fair Amaryllis drives her flocks,
All night fafe folded from the fox,
To flow'ry downs, where Collin drays,
To court her with his roundelays. 60
XVI.
The traveller now leaves his inn
A new day's journey to begin,
As he would poft it with the day,
And early rifing makes good way.
V. $5. purlews high.
C. COTTON. 91
XVII.
The flick-fac'd fchool-boy fachel takes, 65
And with flow pace fmall riddance makes ;
For why, the hafte we make, you know,
To knowledge and to vertue's flow.
XVIII.
The fore-horfe gingles on the road,
The waggoner lugs on his load, 70
The field with bufie people fnies,
And city rings with various cries.
XIX. .
The world is now a bufie fwarm,
All doing good, or doing harm ;
But let's take heed our adls be true, 75
For heaven's eye fees all we do.
XX.
None can that piercing fight evade,
It penetrates the darkeft made ;
And fin, though it could fcape the eye,
Would be difcover'd by the cry. 80
92 C. COTTON.
NOON QJJATRAINS.
BY THE SAME.
I.
THE day grows hot, and darts his rays
From fuch a fure and killing place,
That this half world are fain to fly
The danger of his burning eye.
II.
His early glories were benign, 5
Warm to be felt, bright to be feen ;
And all was comfort, but who can
Endure him when meridian ?
III.
Of him we as of kings complain,
Who mildly do begin to reign, 10
But to the zenith got of pow'r,
Thofe whom they mould protect devour.
IV.
Has not another Phaeton
Mounted the chariot of the fun,
And, wanting art to guide his horfe, 15
Is hurri'd from the fun's due courfe,
C. COTTON. 93
V.
If this hold on, our fertile lands
Will foon be turn'd to parched fands,
And not an onion that will grow,
Without a Nile to overflow. 20
VI.
The grazing herds now droop and pant,
E'en without labour fit to faint,
And willingly ' forfake' their meat,
To feek out cover from the heat.
VII.
The lagging ox is now unbound, 25
From larding the new turn'd up ground,
Whilft Hobbinol alike o'er-laid,
Takes his ' coarfe' dinner to the made.
VIII.
Cellars and grottos now are beft
To eat and drink in, or to reft, 30
And not a foul above is found
Can find a refuge under ground.
IX.
When Pagan tyranny grew hot,
Thus perfecuted Chriftians got
Into the dark but friendly womb 35
Of unknown fubterranean Rome.
y. 3. forfook. V. 28. courJc.
4 C . C O T T O tf *
X.
And as that heat did cool at laft,
So a few fcorching hours o'er pafs'd,
In a more mild and temp'rate ray
We may again enjoy the day.
EVENING QUATRAINS.
BY THE SAME.
I.
I HE day's grown old, the fainting fun
Has but a little way to run ;
And yet his fteeds, with all his MI,
Scarce hug the chariot down the hill.
II.
With labour (pent, and thirft oppreft,
Whilft they ftrain hard to gain the Weft,
From fetlocks hot drops melted light,
Which ' turns' to meteors in the night.
III.
The fhadows now fo long do grow,
That brambles like tall cedars mow,
Mole -hills feem mountains, and the ant
Appears a monftrous elephant.
y, 8. turn.
C. COTTON. 95
IV.
A very little little flock
Shades thrice the ground that it would flock ;
Whilft the fmall fliipling following them, 15
Appears a mighty Polypheme.
V.
Thefe being brought into the fold,
And by the thrifty matter told,
He thinks his wages are well paid,
Since none are either loft or ftray'd. 20
VI.
Now lowing herds are each-where heard,
Chains rattle in the villains yard,
The cart's on tayl fet down to reft,
Bearing on high the cuckolds creft.
VII.
The hedg is ftript, the clothes brought in,
Nought's left without fhould be within, 26
The bees are hiv'd, and hum their charm,
Whilft every houfe does feem a fwarm.
VIII.
The cock now to the rooft is preft,
For he muft call up all the reft ; 30
The fow's faft pegg'd within the fty,
To ftill her fqucaking progeny.
96 C. COTTON.
IX.
Each one has had his Cupping mefs,
The cheefe is put into the prefs ;
The pans and bowls clean fcalded all, 35
Rear'd up againft the milk-houfe wall.
X.
And now on benches all are fat
In the cool air to fit and chat,
Till Phoebus, dipping in the Weft,
Shall lead the world the way to reft. 40
NIGHT QJJATRAINS.
BY THE SAME.
I.
J. H E fun is fet, and gone to fleep
With the fair princefs of the deep,
Whofe bofom is his cool retreat,
When fainting with his proper heat.
II.
His fteeds their flaming noftrils cool
In fpume of the cerulean pool ;
Whilft the wheels dip their hiffing naves
Deep in Columbus' weftern waves.
C. COTTON. 97
III.
From whence great rowls of fmoke arife
To overfhade the beauteous fkies ; 10
Who bid. the world's bright eye adieu
In gelid tears of falling dew.
IV.
And now from the Iberian ' vale'
Night's fable fteeds her chariot ' hale,'
Where double cyprefs curtains fkreen 1 5
The gloomy melancholick queen.
V.
Thefe, as they higher mount the fky,
Ravifli all colour from the eye,
And leave it but an ufelefs glafs,
Which few, or no reflections grace. 20
VI.
The cryftal arch o're Pindus' crown
Is on a fudden dufky grown,
And all's with fun'ral black o'refpread,
As if the day, which fleeps, were dead.
VII.
No ray of light the heart to chear, 25
But little twinkling ftars appear;
Which like faint dying embers ly,
Fit nor to work, nor travel by.
V. 13. vales. V. 14. hale*.
VOL. I. G
9$ p. COTTON,
VIII.
Perhaps to him they torches are,
Who * guides' Night's fovereigns drowfy car,
And him they may befriend fo near, 3 1
But us they neither light nor chear.
IX.
Or elfe thofe little fparks of light
Are nayls that tyre the wheels of night,
Which to new ftations ftill are brought, 35
As they rowl o'r the gloomy vault.
X.
Or nayls that arm the horfes hoof,
Which trampling o're the marble roof,
And ftriking fire in the air,
We mortals call a {hooting ftar. 40
XI.
That's all the light we now receive,
Unlefs what belching vulcans give,
And thofe yield fuch a kind of light
As adds more horror to the night.
XII.
Ny&irmne now freed from day, 45
From fullen bufli flies out to prey,
And does with feret note proclaim
Th' arrival of th' ufurping dame.
V. 30. guide.
C. COTTON. 99
XIII.
The rail now cracks in fields and meads,
Toads now forfake the nettle-beds, 50
The tim'rous hare goes to relief,
And wary men bolt out the theef.
XIV.
The fire's new rak't, and hearth fwept clean,
By Madg, the dirty kitchin-quean,
The fafe is lock't, the moafe-trap fet, 55
The leaven laid, and bucking wet.
XV.
Now in falfe floors and roofs above,
The luftful cats make ill-tun'd love,
The ban-dog on the dunghil lies,
And watchful nurfe fmgs lullabies. 60
XVI.
Philomel chants it whilft fhe bleeds,
The bittern booms it in the reeds,
And Reynard entering the back yardj
The Capitolian cry is heard.
XVII.
The goblin now the fool alarms, 65
Haggs meet to mumble o're their charms ;
The night-mare rides the dreaming afs,
And fairies trip it on the grafs.
G 2
100 8. COTTON.
XVIII.
The drunkard now fupinely fnores,
His load of ale fweats through his pores, 70
Yet when he wakes the fwine ftiall find
A cropola remains behind.
XIX.
The fober now and chaft are bleft
With fweet, and with refrefhing reft,
And to found fleepst hey've beft pretence 75
Who've greateft lhare of innocence.
XX.
We ftiould fo live then that we may
Fearlefs put off our clotts and clay,
And travel through death's (hades to light,
For every day muft have its night. 80
V. 76. Have.
THEODORE AND HONORIA.
f A TRANSLATION FROM BOCCACE. ]
JBY JOHN DRYDEN, E S Q^
OF all the cities in Romanian lands,
The chief, and moft renown'd, Ravenna ftands,
Adorn'd in ancient times with arms and arts,
And rich inhabitants, with gen'rous hearts.
But Theodore the brave, above the reft,
With gifts of fortune and of nature blefs'd,
The foremoft place for wealth and honor held,
And all in feats of chivalry excell'd.
This noble youth to madnefs lov'd a dame
Of high degree, Honoria was her name ; ip
Fair as the faireft, but of haughty mind,
And fiercer than became fo foft a kind ;
Proud of her birth (for equal fhe had none)
The reft me fcorn'd, but hated him alone ;
His gifts, his conftant courtmip, nothing gain'd ;
For fhe, the more he lov'd, the more difdain'd.
He liv'd with all the pomp he could devife, "1
At tilts and tournaments obtain'd the prize ; ?
But found no favour in his ladys eyes : )
* Bern 1631 ; dyed 1701.
G3
102 DRY DEN.
Relentlefs as a rock, the lofty maid 20
Turn'd all to poifon, that he did or faid :
Nor pray'rs, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could 1 !
move ; i
The work went backward ; and the more he ftrove I
T' advance his fuit, the farther from her love. *
Weary'd, at length, and wanting remedy, 25
He doubted oft, and oft refolv'd to die.
But pride flood ready to prevent the blow,
For who would die to gratify a foe ?
His gen'rous mind difdain'd fo mean a fate ;
That pafs'd, his next endeavour was to hate. 3*
But vainer that relief than all the reft, "1
The lefs he hop'd, with more defire poflefs'd ; ?
Love flood the fiege, and would not yield his breaft. J
Change was the next, but change deceiv'd his care ;
He fought a fairer, but found none fo fair. 35
He would have worn her out by flow degrees, 1
As men by fafting flarve th' untam'd difeafe : >
But prefent love requir'd a prefent eafe. J
Looking he feeds alone his famifh'd eyes,
Feeds ling'ring death, but looking not he dies.
Yet ftill he chofe the longeft way to fate, 41
Wafting at once his life, and his eftate.
His friends beheld, and pity'd him in vain,
For what advice can eafe a lovers pain \
Abfence, the beft expedient they could find, 45
Might fave the fortune, if not cure the mind :
DRYDEN. 103
This means they long propos'd, but little gain'd,
Yet, after much purfuit, at length obtain'd.
Hard you may think it was to give confent,
But ftruggling with his own defires he went, 50
With large expence, and with a pompous train, 1
Provided as to vifit France and Spain, ?
Or for fome diflant voyage o'er the main. J
But love had clipp'd his wings, and cut him Ihort,
Confin'd within the purlieus of the court. 55
Three miles he went, nor farther could retreat ;
His travels ended at his country-feat :
To Chaffis' pleafing plains he took his way,
There pitch'd his tents, and there refolv'd to ftay.
The fpring was in the prime ; the neighbouring
grove
Supply'd with birds, the chorifters of love :
Muiic unbought, that minifter'd delight
To morning walks, and lull'd his cares by night :
There he difcharg'd his friends ; but not th' expence
Of frequent treats, and proud magnificence. 65
He liv'd as kings retire, tho more at large
From public bufmefs, yet with equal charge ;
With houfe and heart flill open to receive ;
As well content as love would give him leave :
He would have liv'd more free ; but many a gueft,
Who could forfake the friend, purfu'd the feaft. 7 1
It happ'd one morning, as his fancy led,
Before his ufual hour he left his bed ;
104 DRYDEN.
To walk within a lonely lawn, that flood
On every fide furrounded by a wood: 75
Alone he walk'd, to pleafe his penfive mind,
And fought the deepeft folitude to find ;
'Twas in a grove of fpreading pines he ftray'd ;
The winds within the quiv'ring branches play'd
And dancing trees a mournful mufic made.
The place itfelf was fuiting to his care, 8 1
Uncouth and favage, as the cruel fair.
He wander'd on, unknowing where he went,
Loft in the wood, and all on love intent :
The day already half his race had run, "1
And fummon'd him to due repaft at noon, >
But love could feel no hunger but his own. J
While lift'ning to the murm'ring leaves he flood,
More than a mile immers'd within the wood,
At once the wind was laid ; the whifp'ring found
Was dumb ; a rifing earthquake rock'd the ground ;
With deeper brown the grove was overfpread ; "|
A fudden horror feiz'd his giddy head, t
And his ears tinkled, and his color fled ; J
Nature was in alarm ; fome danger nigh 95
Seem'd threaten'd, tho unfeen to mortal eye.
Unus'd to fear, he fummon'd all his foul,
And flood collected in himfelf, and whole ;
Not long : for foon a whirlwind rofe around,
And from afar he heard a fcreaming found, 100
As of a dame diftrefs'd, who cry'd for aid,
And fill'd with loud laments the fecret fliade.
DRYDEN. J05
A thicket clofe befide the grove there flood
With briers and brambles choak'd, and dwarfifh,
wood;
From thence the noife, which now approaching near,
With more diftinguiih'd notes invades his ear ; 106
He rais'd his head, and faw a beauteous maid,
With hair difhevell'd, ifluing through the made,
Stripp'd of her cloaths, and ev'n thofe parts reveal 'd.
Which modeft nature keeps from fight conceal'd.
Her face, her hands, her naked limbs were torn.
With paffing thro the brakes, and prickly thorn ;
Two maftiffs gaunt and grim her flight purfued.
And oft their faflen'd fangs in blood embru'd :
Oft they came up, and pinch'd her tender fide ;
Mercy, O mercy, heav'n ! me ran, and cry'd ;
When heaven was nam'd, they loos'd their hold
again,
Then fprung me forth, they follow'd her amain.
Not far behind, a knight of fwarthy face,
High on a coal-black fteed purfu'd the chace ; 120
With flaming flames his ardent eyes were fill'd.
And in his hand a naked fword he held :
He chear'd the dogs to follow her who fled,
And vow'd revenge on her devoted head.
As Theodore was born of noble kind, 125
The brutal aftion rous'd his manly mind ;
Mov'd with unworthy ufage of the maid,
He, tho unarm'd, refolv'd to give her aid.
I6 D R Y D E N.
A faplin pine he wrench 'd from out the ground,
The readieft weapon that his fury found. 130
Thus furnifh'd for offence, he crofs'd the way
Betwixt the gracelefs villain and his prey.
The knight came thund'ring on, but, from afar,
Thus, in imperious tone, forbad the war :
Ceafe, Theodore, to proffer vain relief, 135
Nor ftop the vengeance of fo juft a grief;
But give me leave to feize my deftin'd prey,
And let eternal juftice take the way :
I but revenge my fate, difdain'd, betray'd,
And fuff'ring death for this ungrateful maid. 140
He faid, at once difmounting from the fteed ;
For now the hell-hounds, with fuperior fpeed,
Had reach'd the dame, and, faft'ning on her fide,
The ground with iffuing ftreams of purple dy'd ;
Stood Theodore furpris'd in deadly fright, 145
With chatt'ring teeth, and briftling hair upright ;
Yet arm'd with inborn worth, whate'er, faid he,
Thou art, who kr.ow'ft me better than I thee ;
Or prove thy rightful caufe, or be defy'd ;
The fpeftre, fiercely flaring, thus reply'd : 15*
Know, Theodore, thy anceftry I claim,
And Guido Cavalcand was my name :
One common fire our fathers did beget,
My name and ftory fome remember yet :
Thee, then a boy, within my arms I laid, 155
When for my fins I lov'd this haughty maid ;
lin : J
pain. J
DRY DEN. 107
Not lefs ador'd in life, nor ferv'd by me,
Than proud Honoria now is lov'd by thee.
What did I not her ftubborn heart to gain i
But all my vows were anfwer'd with difdain
She fcorn'd my forrows, and defpis'd my pain.
Long time I dragg'd my days in fruitlefs care ;
Then, lothing life, and plung'd in deep defpair,
To finifli my unhappy life, I fell
On this fharp fword, and now am damn'd in hell.
Short was her joy ; for foon th' infulting maid
By heav'n's decree in this cold grave was laid :
And as in unrepented fin fhe dy'd,
Doom'd to the fame bad place is punifhM for her
pride :
Becaufe me deem'd I well deferv'd to die, 170
And made a merit of her cruelty.
There, then, we met ; both try'd, and both were
caft,
And this irrevocable fentence pafs'd ;
That me, whom J fo long purfu'd in vain,
Should fufter from my hands a ling'ring pain :
Renew'd to life, that me might daily die, 176
I daily doom'd to follow, me to fly ;
No more a lover, but a mortal foe,
I feek her life (for love is none below) :
As often as my dogs with better fpeed 180
Arreft her flight, is (he to death decreed:
Then with this fatal fword, on which I dy'd,
I pierce her open back, or tender fide,
IOS DRYDEN.
And tear that harden'd heart from out her breaft,
Which, with her entrails, makes my hungry hounds
a feaft. 1 85
Nor lies me long, but, as the fates ordain, T
Springs up to life, and frelh to fecond pain, ?
Is fav'd to-day, to-morrow to be flain. J
This, vers'd in death, th' infernal knight relates,
And then for proof fulfilPd the common fates ;
Her heart and bowels thro her back he drew,
And fed the hounds that help'd him to purfue.
Stern look'd the fiend, as fruftrate of his will,
Not half fuffic'd, and greedy yet to kill.
And now the foul, expiring through the wound,
Had left the body breathlefs on the ground, 196
When thus the grifly fpeftre fpoke again :
Behold the fruit of ill-rewarded pain :
As many months as I fuftain'd her hate,
So many years is me condemn'd by fate 200
To daily death ; and ev'ry feveral place,
Confcious of her difdain and my difgrace,
Muft witnefs her juft puniftiment; and be
A fcene of triumph and revenge to me !
As in this grove I took my laft farewel, 205
As on this very fpot of earth I fell,
As Friday faw me die, fo me my prey
Becomes ev'n here, on this revolving day.
Thus, while he fpoke, the virgin from the ground
Upftarted frefli, already clos'd the wound, 210
DRY DEN. 109
And, unconcern'd for all fhe felt before,
Precipitates her flight along the more :
The hell-hounds, as ungorg'd with flefti and blood,
Purfue their prey, and feek their wonted food :
The fiend remounts his courfer, mends his pace ;
And all the vifion vanim'd from the place. 216
Long flood the noble youth opprefs'd with awe,"l
And ftupid at the wondrous things he faw,
Surpaffing common faith, tranfgreffing nature's!
law:
He would have been afleep, and wifh'd to wake,
But dreams, he knew, no long impreflion make,
Though ftrong at firft ; if vifion, to what end, T
But fuch as muft his future ftate portend ?
His love the damfel, and himfelf the fiend. J
But yet, reflecting that it could not be 225
From heaven, which cannot impious afts decree,
Refolv'd within himfelf to fhun the fnare,
Which hell for his deftruftion did prepare ;
And, as his better genius fhould diredt,
From an ill caufe to draw a good effeft. 230
Infpir'd from heaven he homeward took his way,
Nor pall'd his new defign with long delay :
But of his train a trufty fervant fent
To call his friends together at his tent.
They came, and, ufual falutations paid, 235
With words premeditated, thus he faid :
What you have often counfell'd, to remove
My vain purfuit of unregarded love ;
110 DR YD E N.
By thrift my finking fortune to repair,
Tho late yet is at laft become my care : 240
My heart mall be my own ; my vaft expence
Reduc'd to bounds, by timely providence ;
This only I require ; invite for me
Honoria, with her fathers family,
Her friends, and mine ; the caufe I mall difplay,
On Friday next ; for that's th' appointed day. 246
Well pleas'd were all his friends, the tafk was light,
The father, mother, daughter, they invite ;
Hardly the dame was drawn to this repaft ;
But yet refolv'd, becaufe it was the laft. 250
The day was come, the guefts invited came,
And, with the reft, th' inexorable dame :
A feaft prepar'd with riotous expence,
Much coft, more care, and moft magnificence.
The place ordain'd was in that haunted grove,
Where the revenging ghoft purfu'd his love : 256
The tables in a proud pavilion fpread,
With flowers below, and tifiue overhead :
The reft in rank, Honoria chief in place, 1
Was artfully contriv'd to fet her face
To front the thicket, and behold the chace. J
The feaft was ferv'd, the time fo well forecaft,
That juft when the defert and fruits were plac'd,
The fiend's alarm began ; the hollow found ~l
Sung in the leaves, the foreft fhook around, I
Air blacken'd, roll'd the thunder, groan'd the!
ground. -*
t> R Y D E N. Ill
Nor long before the loud laments arife
Of one diftrefs'd, and maftiffs mingled cries ;
And firft the dame came rufliing through the wood,"l
Andnextthefamifh'dhounds,thatfoughttheirfood,l
And grip'd her flanks, and oft efiay'd their jaws 1
in blood.
Laft came the felon, on his fable fteed,
Arm'd with his naked fword, and urg'd his dogs
to fpeed.
She ran, and cry'd, her flight diredly bent, ">
(A gueft unbidden) to the fatal tent, (
The fcene of death, and place defign'd for punifh- 1
ment. ^
Loud was the noife, aghaft was ev'ry gueft,
The women fhriek'd, the men forfook the feaft ;
The hounds at nearer diftance hoarsly bay'd ; ~\
The hunter clofe purfu'd the vifionary maid,
She rent the heav'n with loud laments, imploring I
aid.
The gallants, to protect the lady's right,
Their fauchions brandifh'd at the grifly fpright
High on his ftirrups he provok'd the fight,
Then on the crowd he caft a furious look, 285
And wither'd all their ftrength before he fpoke :
Back on your lives ; let be, faid he, my prey.
And let my vengeance take the deftin'd way :
Vain are your arms, and vainer your defence,
Againft th' eternal doom of Providence : 290
Mine is th' ungrateful maid by heaven defign'd :
Mercy (he would not give, nor mercy mail fhe find.
-1
112 D R Y D E Ni
At this the former tale again he told,
With thund'ring tone, and dreadful to behold :
Sunk were their hearts with horror of the crime,
Nor needed to be warn'd a fecond time, 296
But bore each other back : fome knew the face, "1
And all had heard the much-lamented cafe
Of him who fell for love, and this the fatal place.3
. And now th' infernal minifter advanc'd, 300
Seiz'd the due viftim, and with fury ' lanc'd'
Her back, and, piercing through her inmoft heart.
Drew backward, as before, th' offending part.
The reeking entrails next he tore away,
And to his meagre maftiffs made a prey. 305
The pale affiftants on each other ftar'd,
With gaping mouths for ifluing words prepar'd ;
The ftill-born founds upon the palate hung,
And dy'd imperfeft on the fault'ring tongue.
The fright was general ; but the female band
(A helplefs train) in more confufion ftand: 311
With horror ihudd'ring, on a heap they run, ~l
Sick at the fight of hateful juftice done ; I
For confcience rung th' alarm, and made the cafe I
their own. *
So fpread upon a lake, with upward eye, 3 1 5
A plump of fowl behold their foe on high ;
They clofe their trembling troop ; and all attend
On whom the fowfing eagle will defcend.
r. 3 oi. lanch'd.
DRYDEN. 113
But moft the proud Honoria fear'd th' event,
And thought to her alone the vifion fent. 320
Her guilt prefents to her diftrafted mind
Heav'n's juftice, Theodore's revengeful kind,
And the fame fate to the fame fin aflign'd.
Already fees herfelf the monfter's prey,
And feels her heart and entrails torn away. 325
'Twas a mute fcene of forrow, mix'd with fear ;
Still on the table lay th' unfinifli'd cheer :
The knight and hungry maftiffs flood around,
The mangled dame lay breathlefs on the ground ;
When on a fudden, re-infpir'd with breath, 330
Again flie rofe, again to fuffer death ;
Nor ftaid the hell-hounds, nor the hunter ftaid,
But follow'd, as before, the flying maid :
Th' avenger took from earth th' avenging fword,
And mounting light as air his fable fteed he fpurr'd :
The clouds difpell'd, the iky refum'd the light,
And Nature flood recover'd of her fright.
But fear, the laft of ills, remain'd behind,
And horror heavy fat on ev'ry mind.
JSTor Theodore encourag'd more the feaft, 340
But fternly look'd, as hatching in his breaft
Some deep defigns ; which when Honoria view'd,
The frefh impulfe her former fright renew'd ;
She thought herfelf the trembling dame who fled,
And him the grifly ghoft that fpurr'd th' infernal
fteed:
VOL. I. H
114 DRYDEN.
The more difmay'd, for when the guefts withdrew,"!
Their courteous hoft, faluting all the crew, I
Regardlefs pafs'd her o'er ; nor grac'd with kind!
adieu.
That fting infbc'd within her haughty mind,
The downfall of her empire (he divin'd ;
And her proud heart with fecret forrow pin'd.
Home as they went, the fad difcourfe renew'd,
Of the relentlefs dame to death purfu'd,
And of the fight obfcene fo lately view'd.
None durft arraign the righteous doom fhe bore,
Ev'n they who pity'd moft, yet blam'd her more ;
The parallel they needed not to name,
But in the dead they damn'd the living dame.
At ev'ry little noife me look'd behind,
For ftill the knight was prefent to her mind : 360
And anxious oft fhe ftarted on the way,
And thought the horfeman-ghoft came thund'ring
for his prey.
Return'd, me took her bed with little reft,
But in fhort flumbers dreamt the fun'rai feafl :
Awak'd, fhe turn'd her fide, and flept again ;
The fame black vapors mounted in her brain,
And the fame dreams return'd with double pain.
Now forc'd to wake, becaufe afraid to fleep,
Her blood all fever'd, with a furious leap
She fprang from bed, diftradled in her mind, 370
And fear'd, at every ftep, a twitching fpright behind,
DRYDEN. 115
Darkling and defperate, with a ftagg'ring pace,
Of death afraid, and confcious of difgrace ;
Fear, pride, remorfe, at once her heart aflail'd,
Pride put remorfe to flight, but fear prevail'd.
Friday the fatal day, when next it came, 376
Her foul forethought the fiend would change his
game,
And her purfue, or Theodore be flain,
And two ghofts join their packs to hunt her o'er
the plain.
This dreadful image fo poflefs'd her mind, 380
That defperate any fuccour elfe to find,
She ceas'd all farther hope ; and now began
To make reflexion on th' unhappy man.
Rich, brave, and young, who paft expreflion lov'd,
Proof to difdain, and not to be remov'd : 385
Of all the men refpefted and admir'd,
Of all the dames, except herfelf, defir'd :
Why not of her ? preferr'd above the reft "1
By him with knightly deeds, and open love pro- 1
fefs'd? I
So had another been, where he his vows addrefs'd. J
This quell'd her pride, yet other doubts remnin'd,
That, once difdaining, me might be difdain'd.
The fear was juft, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by helliih hounds aflail'd :
He took a low'ring leave ; but who can tell 395
What outward hate might inward love conceal ?
H *
I
J
5
pell'd, T
ceal'd, }
I'd: J
Xl6 D R Y D E N.
Her fex's arts me knew ; and why not, then,
Might deep diflembling have a place in men ?
Here hope began to dawn j refolv'd to try,
She fix'd on this her utmoft remedy :
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
'Twas time enough at laft on death to call,
The precipice in fight : a ftirub was all,
That kindly flood betwixt to break the fatal fall.
One maid me had, belov'd above the reft
Secure of her, the fecret me confefs'd ;
And now the chearful light her fears difpell'd,
She with no winding turns the truth conceal'd,
But put tne woman off", and flood reveal'
With faults confefs'd commiffion'd her to go, 410
If pity yet had place, and reconcile her foe ;
The welcome mefiage made, was foon receiv'd;
'Twas to be wifh'd, and hop'd, but fcarce believ'd ;
Fate feem'd a fair occafion to prefent ; ~)
He knew the fex, and fear'd me might repent, >
Should he delay the moment of confent. J
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modefty of maidens well might fpare) ;
But me with fuch a zeal the caufe embrac'd,
(As women, where they will, are all in hafte)
The father, mother, and the kin befide, 421
Were overborn by fury of the tide ;
With full confent of all me chang'd her ftate i
Refiltlefs in her love, as in her hate.
DRY DEN. I
By her example warn'd, the reft beware ;
More eafy, lefs imperious, were the fair ;
And that one hunting, which the devil defign'd
For one fair female, loft him half the kind.
ALEXANDERS FEAST;
OK
THE POWER OF MUSIC;
AN ODE,
IN HONOUR. OF ST. CECILIA*S DAY.
BY THE SAME.
TWAS at the royal feaft, for Perfia won,
By Philips warlike fon :
Aloft in awful ftate
The godlike hero fate
On his imperial throne : 5
His valiant peers were plac'd around ;
Their brows with rofes and with myrtles bound :
(So mould defert in arms be crown'd)
The lovely Thais, by his fide,
Sate like a blooming Eaftern bride, 10
In flower of youth and beauty's pride.
H 3
Ilg D R Y DE N.
Happy, happy, happy pair !
None but the brave>
None but the brave,
None but the brave deferves the fair. 15
CHORUS.
Happy, happy, happy pair !
None but the brave t
None but the brave,
None but the brave defervts the fair.
II,
Timotheus, plac'd on high 29
Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd the' lyre :
The trembling notes afcend the fey,
And heavenly joys infpire.
The fong began from Jove, 25
Who left his blifsful feats above,
(Such is the power of mighty love)
A dragons fiery form bely'd the god :
Sublime on radiant fpires he rode,
When he to fair Olympia prefs'd : 30
And while he fought her fnowy breaft :
Then, round her {lender waift he curl'd,
And ftamp'd an image of himfelf, a fov'reign of
the world.
The lilt'ning crowd admire the lofty found,
A prefent deity, they Ihout around : 35
A prefent deity the vaulted roofs rebound :
DRYDEN. 119
With ravifh'd ears
The monarch hears,
AfTumes the god,
Affefts to nod, 40
And feems to {hake the fpheres.
CHORUS.
With rawffid ears
bt monarch hears,
Ajjumti the Go</ t
Affelts to nodj 45
Andfeem* tojbake thefphere$.
III.
The praife of Bacchus, then, the fweet mufician fung ;
Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young :
The jolly god in triumph comes ;
Sound the trumpets ; beat the drums ; 50
Flufti'd with a purple grace,
He ftiews his honeft face :
Now give the hautboys breath ; he comes, he comes.
Bacchus ever fair and young,
Drinking joys did firft ordain ; 55
Bacchus' bleflings are a treafure,
Drinking is the foldier's pleafure ;
Rich the treafure,
Sweet the pleafure ;
Sweet is pleafure after pain. 60
J20 D R Y D E N.
Baccbu? bkjjlngs are a treafure,
Drinking is the foldier* s pleafure i
Rich the treafure,
Sweet the pleafure \
Sweet is pleafure after pain. 65
IV.
Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain ;
Fought all his battles o'er again ;
And thrice he routed all his foes ; and thrice he
flew the flain.
The matter faw the madnefs rife ;
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ; 70
And, while he heaven and earth defy'd,
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
He chofe a mournful mufe
Soft pity to infufe :
He fung Darius great and good, 75
By too fevere a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high eftate,
And weltring in his blood.
Deferted, at his utmoft need, 80
By thofe his former bounty fed :
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to clofe his eyes.
With downcaft looks the joylefs viftor fate,
D R Y D EN. 121
Revolving in his alter'd foul 85
The various turns of chance below ;
And, now and then, a figh he Hole ;
And tears began to flow.
Revolving in bis altered joul
The various turns of chance beloiv ; 90
And, now and then^ afigb befiolc ;
And tears began to flow.
V.
The mighty matter fmil'd to fee
That love was in the next degree :
'Twas but a kindred found to move, 95
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly fweet, in Lydian meafures,
Soon he footh'd his foul to pleafures.
War, he fung, is toil and trouble ;
Honour but an empty bubble ; loo
Never ending, Hill beginning,
Fighting {till, and ftill deftroying,
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think, it worth enjoying :
Lovely Thais fits befide thee, 105
Take the good the gods provide thee.
The many rend the ikies with loud applaufe ;
So Love was crown'd, but Mufic won the caufe.
122 DRYDEN.
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,
Gaz'd on the fair 1 10
Who caus'd his care,
And figh'd and look'd, %h'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again :
At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd,
The vanquifti'd vidlor funk upon her breaft. 115
CHORUS.
The prince, unable to conceal bis fai t
Ga-z?d on the fair
Who caus'd bis care,
Andftgh'd and looM, JigVd and look'J,
Sigh" 1 d and looV d) and Jiglfd again : 129
At length^ with love and tuine at once oppref?d %
The vanquiflfd viflorfunk upon her lreajl
VI.
Now ftrike the golden lyre again :
A louder yet, and yet a louder ftrain.
Break his bands of fleep afunder, 135
And roufe him, like a rattling peal of thunder.
Hark, hark, the horrid found
Has rais'd up his head :
As awak'd from the dead,
And amaz'd, he flares around. 130
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,
See the Furies arife :
See the fnakes that they rear
How they hifs in their hair,
And the fparkles that flam from their ey !
D R Y DE N. 123
Behold a ghaftly band, 136
Each a torch in his hand !
Thofe are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain,
And unbury'd remain
. Inglorious on the plain : 140
Give the vengeance due
To the valiant crew.
Behold how they tofs their torches on high,
How they point to the Perfian abodes,
And glittering temples of their hoftile gods.
The princes applaud, with a furious joy ; 146
And the king feiz'd a flambeau with zeal to deflroy ;
Thais led the way,
To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. 150
CHORUS.
And the kingfeidd ajlambeau with zeal to dejtroy ;
Thais led the way.
To light him to his frey y
Andy like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.
VII.
Thus, long ago, 155
Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow,
While organs yet were mute,
Timotheus, to his breathing flute,
And founding lyre,
Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle fierce defire.
124 D R Y D E N.
At laft divine Cecilia came, 161
Inventrefs of the vocal frame ;
The fweet enthufiaft, from her facred ftore,
ErJarg'd the former narrow bounds,
And added length to folemn founds, 165
With nature's mother- wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown ;
He rais'd a mortal to the fldes ;
She drew an angel down. 170
GRAND CHORUS.
At Jafti divine Cecilia came,
Inventrefs of the vocal frame ;
The fweet enthujiafl, from her facredflort.
Enlarged the former narrow boundi t
And added length to folemn founds, 1 75
With nature's mot her -wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize ,
Or both divide the crown ;
He rais'd a mortal to the flies ;
She drew an angel down. \ 80
ON HIS MISTRESS DROWN*D.
BY THO. SPRATT, BISHOP OF ROCHESTER.*
OWEET ftream, that doth with equal pace
Both thy felf fly, and thy felf chace
Forbear awhile to flow,
And Men to my woe.
Then go, and tell the fea that all its brine
Is frefh, compar'd to mine ;
Inform it that the gentler dame,
Who was the life of all my flame,
In the glory of her bud,
Has pafs'd the fatal flood, 10
Death by this only ftroke triumphs above
The greateft power of Love :
Alas, alas ! I muft give o'er,
My fighs will let me add no more.
Go on, fweet ftream, and henceforth reft 15
No more than does my troubled bread ;
And if my fad complaints have made thee (lay,
Thefe tears, thefe tears mail mend thy way.
Born 1636}
CONSTANCY.
BY SIR CHARLES SEDLEY, BART.*
FEAR not, my dear; a flame can never die
That is once kindled by fo bright an eye :
View but thyfelf, and meafure thence my love ;
Think what a paflion fuch a form muft move :
For, tho' thy beauty firft allur'd my fight,
Now I confider it but as the light
That lead me to the treas'ry of thy mind,
Whofe inward virtue in that feature min'd.
That knot, be confident, will ever laft,
Which fancy ty'd, and reafon has made faft : I
So faft, that time, altho' it may difarm
Thy lovely face, my faith can never harm ;
And age deluded, when it comes, will find
My love remov'd, and to thy foul affign'd.
* Born 1639 ; dyed 1701.
SEDLEY. 127
A SONG.
BT THE SAME.
H. EARS not my Phillis how the birds
Their feather'd mates falute ?
They tell their paflion in their words ;
Muft I alone be mute ?
Phillis, without frown or fmile,
Sat and knotted all the while.
The god of love in thy bright eyes
Does like a tyrant reign :
But in thy heart a child he lyes,
Without his dart or flame. 10
Phillis, without, &c.
So many months in filence paft,
And yet in raging love,
Might well deferve one word at laft
My paflion (hou'd approve. 15
Phillis, without, &c.
Muft then your faithful fwain expire,
And not one look obtain,
Which he, to footh his fond defire,
Might pleafingly explain ? 20
Phillis, without, &c.
INCONSTANCY EXCUSED.
SONG.
BY JOHN SHEFFIELD, DUKE OF
BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.*
i MUST confels I am untrue
To Gloriana's eyes ;
But he that's finiFd upon by you,
Muft all the world defpife.
In winter, fires of little worth 5
Excite our dull defire ;
But when the fun breaks kindly forth,
Thofe fainter flames expire.
Then blame me not for flighting now
What I did once adore ; 10
O, do but this one change allow,
And I can change no more :
Fixt by your never-failing charms,
Till I with age decay,
Till languishing within your arms, 15
I figh my foul away.
* Born 1646; djtd 1721.
BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. I2()
ON LUCINDA'S DEATH.
BY THE SAME.
\^> o M E all ye doleful, difmal cares,
That ever haunted guilty mind !
The pangs of love when it defpairs,
And all ihofe flings the jealous find :
Alas ! heart-breaking tho' ye be, 5
Yet welcome, welcome all to me !
Who now have loft ..... but oh ! how much ?
No language, nothing can exprefs,
Except my grief; for me was fuch,
That prajfes would but make her lefs. 10
Yet who can ever dare to raife
His voice on her, unlefs to p raife ?
Free from her fex's fmalleft faults,
And fair as womankind can be ;
Tender and warm as lover's thoughts, 1 5
Yet cold to all the world but me.
Of all this nothing now remains,
But only fighs and endlefs pains.
VOL. I.
SONG.
BY JOHN WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER.
INSULTING beauty, you misfpend
Thofe frowns upon your flave ;
Your fcorn againft fuch rebels bend
Who dare with confidence pretend
That other eyes their hearts defend 5
From all the charms you have.
Your conq'ring eyes fo partial are,
Or mankind is fo dull,
That, while I languifh in defpair,
Many proud fenfelefs hearts declare 10
They find you not fo killing fair
To wifh you merciful.
They an inglorious freedom boaft ;
I triumph in my chain ;
Nor am I unreveng'd, though loft ; 15
Nor you unpunifh'd, though unjuft ;
When I alone, who love you moft,
Am kill'd with your difdain.
* Btrn 1648 ; djed 1680.
THE SIXTEENTH ODE OF THE SECOND BOOK
OF HORACE.
BY THOMAS OTWAY.*
I N ftorms when clouds the moon do hide,
And no kind ftars the pilot guide,
Shew me at fea the boldeft there
Who does not wifh for quiet here,
For quiet (friend) the foldier fights, 5
Bears weary marches, fleeplefs nights,
For this feeds hard, and lodges cold,
Which can't be bought with hills of gold.
Since wealth and power too weak we find
To quell the tumults of the mind, 10
Or from the monarch's roofs of flate
Drive thence the cares that round him wait;
Happy the man with little bleft,
Of what his father left pofleft ;
No bafe defires corrupt his head, 1$
No fears difturb him in his bed.
What then in life, which foon muft end,
Can all our vain defigns intend ?
From more to more why mould we run*
When none his tirefome felf can ftwn ? to
* Born 1651 ; dyed 1682.
I 2
132 OTWAY.
For baneful care will ftill prevail,
And overtake us under fail :
'Twill dodge the great man's train behind,
Out-run the roe, out-fly the wind.
If then thy foul rejoice to-day, 25
Drive far to-morrow's cares away :
In laughter let them all be drown'd :
No perfeft good is to be found.
One mortal feels fate's fudden blow,
Another's ling'ring death comes flow ; 30
And what of life they take from thee,
The gods may give to punifli me.
Thy portion is a wealthy ftock,
A fertile glebe, a fruitful flock,
Horfes and chariots for thy eafe, 35
Rich robes to deck and make thee pleafe :
For me, a little cell I chufe,
Fit for my mind, fit for my mufe,
Which foft content does beft adorn,
Shunning the knaves and fools I fcorn. 40
THE RETIREMENT.
BY JOHN MORRIS.*
I.
WELL, I have thought on't, and I find
This bufie world is nonfenfe all ;
I here defpair to pleafe my mind,
Her fweeteft honey is fo mixt with gall.
Come then, I'll try how 'tis to be alone, 5
Live to myfelf a while, and be my own.
II.
I've try'd, and blefs the happy change ;
So happy, I could almoft vow
Never from this retreat to range,
For fure I ne'er can be fo bleft as now : 10
From all th' allays of blifs I here am free,
I pity others, and none envy me.
III.
Here in this fhady lonely grove,
I fweetly think my hours away,
Neither with buiinefs vex'd nor love, 15
Which in the world bear fuch tyrannic fway.
* Born 1657; dyed 1711.
134 N ORRIS.
No tumults can my clofe apartment find,
Calm as thofe feats above, which know no ftoric.
nor wind.
IV.
Let plots and news embroil tfce ftate,
Pray what's that to my books and me ? 2
Whatever be the kingdom's fate,
Here I am fure t' enjoy a monarchy.
Lord of myfelf, accountable to none,
Like the firft man in paradice, alone.
V.
While the ambitious vainly fue, 2.5
And of the partial ftars complain,
I {land upon the fhore, and view
The mighty labours of the diftant main :
I'm flufh'd with filent joy, and fmile to fee
The {hafts of fortune flill drop fhort of me. 30
VI.
Th' uneafie pageantry of ftate,
And all the plagues to thought and fenfe,
Are far remov'd ; I'm plac'd by fate
Out of the road of all impertinence.
Thus, tho my fleeting life runs fwiftly on, 35
'Twill not be fhort, becaufe 'tis all my own.
SONG.
Y CHARLES SACKVILLE, EARLOF DORSET
DORINDA'S fparkling wit and eyes,
United, caft too fierce a light,
Which blazes high, but quickly dies ;
Pains not the heart, but hurts the fight;
Love is a calmer, gentler joy, 5
Smooth are his looks, and foft his pace ;
Her Cupid is a black-guard boy,
That runs his link full in your face.
* Mtrn 1657; dyed 1706.
WRITTEN AT ALTHROP^ IN A BLANK LEAF
OF WALLER'S POEMS, UPON SEEING
VANDYKE'S PICTURE OF THE
OLD LADY SUNDERLAND.
BY CHARLES MONTAGUE, EARL
OF HALIFAX.*
V AN DYKE had colours, foftnefs, fire, and art,
When the fair Sunderland inflam'd his heart.
Waller had numbers, fancy, wit, and fire,
And SacharifTa was his fond defire.
Why then at Althrop feems her charms to faint, 5
In thefe fweet numbers, and that glowing paint ?
This happy feat a fairer miftrefs warms ;
This fhining offspring has eclips'd her charms :
The different beauties in one face we find ;
Soft Amoret with 'bright' SacharifTa join'd. 10
As high as Nature reach'd, their art could foar ;
But flie ne'er made a finifh'd piece before.
* Born 1661; dyed 171 5.
V. 10. brighteft.
HORACE, BOOK IV. ODB III. IMITATED
BY FRANCIS ATTERBURY, BISHOP
OF ROCHESTER.*
TO HIS MUSE, BY WHOSE FAVOUR HE
ACQJJIRES IMMORTAL FAME.
HE, on whofe birth the lyric queen
Of numbers fmil'd, {hall never grace
The Ifthmian gauntlet, nor be feen
Firft in the fam'd Olympic race :
He fhall not, after toils of war, 5
And taming haughty monarchs pride,
With laurell'd brows, confpicuous far,
To Jove's Tarpeian temple ride.
But him the ftreams that warbling flow
Rich Tyber's flowery meads along, 10
And fhady groves (his haunts) mail know
The mailer of th' ^Eolian fong.
The fons of Rome, majeftic Rome !
Have fix'd me in the poets choir,
And, envy now, or dead or dumb, 15
Forbear to blame what they admire.
* Sirn 1662; dyed (In exile) 1731.
138 ATTERBURY.
Goddefs of the fweet-founding lute,
Which thy harmonious touch obeys,
Who canft the finny race, tho' mute,
To cygnets dying accents raife ; 20
Thy gift it is, that all with eafe
My new unrival'd honours own j
That I ftill live, and living pleafe,
O goddefs, is thy gift alone.
EPIGRAM,
WRITTEN ON A WHITE FAN BORROWED
FROM MISS OSBORNE, AFTER-
WARDS HIS WIFE.
BY THE SAME.
F LAV i A the lead and flighted toy
Can, with reMlefs art, employ :
This Fan, in meaner hands, would prove
An engine of fmall force in love ;
Yet {he, with graceful air and mien, 5
Not to be told, or fafely feen,
Directs its wanton motions fo,
That it wounds more than Cupid's bow :
Gives coolnefs to the matchlefs dame,
To every other breaft a flame. 10
A REPLY TO A COPY OF VERSES MADE IM
IMITATION OF BOOK III. ODE II.
OF HORACE.
Anguftam, amice, pauper iem pati, &c.
AND SENT BY MR.TITLEY
TO THE AUTHOR.'
BY RICHARD .BENTLEY, LL. D.*
\T HO ftrives to mount Parnaflus' hill,
And thence poetick laurels bring,
Muft firft acquire due force, and fkill,
Muft fly with fwan's, or eagle's wing.
Who nature's treafures wou'd explore, $
Her myfteries and arcana know,
Muft high, as lofty Newton, foar,
Muft ftoop, as delving Woodward, low.
Who ftudies ancient laws and rites,
Tongues, arts, and arms and hiftory, 10
Muft drudge like Selden days and nights,
And in the endlefs labour die.
* Born 1662; dyed 1742.
I4O B E N T L E Y .
Who travels in religious jars,
Truth mixt with error, {hade with rays,
Like Whifton wanting pyx or ftars, 1 5
In ocean wide or finks or (trays.
But grant our heroe's hope long toil
And comprehenfive genius crown,
All fciences, all arts his fpoil,
Yet what reward, or what renown ? ?o
Envy, innate in vulgar fouls,
Envy fteps in and flops his rife ;
Envy, with poifon'd tarnifh, fouls
His luftre, and his worth decries.
He lives inglorious, or in want, 25
To college and old books confin'd ;
Inftead of learn'd he's calPd pedant,
Dunces advanc'd he's left behind :
Yet left content, a genuine ftoic he,
Great without patron, rich without South-fea, 3
TO THE EVENING STAR.
ENGLISH'D FROM A GREEK IDYLLIUM.
BY GEORGE STEPNEY, E S O^*
BRIGHT ftar ! by Venus fix'd above,
To rule the happy realms o' love ;
Who in the dewy rear of day,
Advancing thy diftinguifli'd ray,
Doft other lights as far outfhine 5
As Cynthia's filver glories thine ;
Known by fuperior beauties there,
As much as Paftorella here.
Exert, bright ftar, thy friendly light,
And guide me through the dufky night ;
Defrauded of her beams, the moon j I
Shines dim, and will be vanifh'd foon.
I wou'd not rob the fhepherd's fold ;
I feek no mifer's hoarded gold ;
To find a nymph, I'm forc'd to ftray,
Who lately ftole my heart away. 16
* Born 1663; dyed 1707.
EPIGRAM.
LOVE AND JEALOUSY.
BY WILLIAM WALSH, E S O^*
How much are they deceiv'd who vainly ftrive,
By jealous fears, to keep our flames alivfe !
Love's like a torch, which, if fecur'd from blafts,
Will faintlier burn, but then it longer lafls.
Expos'd to ftorms of jealoufy and doubt, 5
The blaze grows greater, but 'tis fooner out.
SONG.
BY THE SAM!.
I.
TH o' Celia's born to be ador'd;
And Strephon to adore her born,
In vain her pity is implor'd,
Who kills him twice, with charms and fcorru
* Bern 1663; dyed 1708.
W AL SH4
II.
Fair faint, to your bleft orb repair,
To learn in heav'n a heavenly mind ;
Thence hearken to a finner's pray'r,
And be lefs beauteous, or more kind.
MULLY or MOUNTOWN.
BY WILLIAM KING, LL. D.*
AlouNTOWN ! thou fweet retreat from Dubliii
cares,
Be famous for thy apples and thy pears ;
For turnips, carrots, lattice, beans, and peafe ;
For Peggy's butter, and for Peggy's cheefe.
May clouds of pigeons round about thee fly ; 5
But condefcend fometimes to make a pye.
May fat geefe gaggle with melodious voice,
And ne'er want goofeberries or apple-fauce :
Ducks in thy ponds, and chicken in thy pens,
And be thy turkeys numerous as thy hens : 10
May thy black pigs lie warm in little ftye,
And have no thought to grieve them till they die.
Mountown ! the Mufes moft delicious theam ;
Oh ! may thy codlins ever fwim in cream !
Thy rafp- and ftrawberries in Bourdeaux drown,
To add a redder tinfture to their own ! 16
Thy white-wine, fugar, milk, together club,
To make that gentle viand fyllabub.
Born 1663; dyed 1712.
DR. KING. 145
Thy tarts to tarts, cheefe-cakes to cheefe-cakes join.
To fpoil the relifh of the flowing wine. 20
But to the fading palate bring relief,
By thy Weftphalian-ham, or Belgick-beef ;
And, to complete thy bleffings in a word,
May {till thy foil be generous as its lord !
II.
Oh ! Peggy, Peggy, when thou go'ft to brew,
Confider well what you're about to do ; 26
Be very wife, very fedately think
That what you're going now to make is drink :
Confider who muft drink that drink, and then,
What 'tis to have the praife of honeft men : 30
For furely, Peggy, while that drink does laft,
'Tis Peggy will be toafted or difgrac'd.
Then, if thy ale in glafs thou would'ft confine,
To make its fparkling rays in beauty mine,
Let thy clean bottle be entirely dry,
Left a white fubftance to the furface fly, L
And, floating there, difturb the curious eye. J
But this great maxim muft be underftood,
Be fure, nay, very fure, thy cork is good !
Then future ages mall of Peggy tell, 40
That nymph that brew'd and bottled ale fo well.
III.
How fleet is air ! how many things have breath
Which in a moment they refign to death ;
Depriv'd of light, and all their happieft ftate,
Not by their fault but fome o'er-ruling fate. 45
VOL. I. K
146 DR. KING.
Altho' fair flowers, that juflly might invite,
Are crop'd, nay, torn away, for man's delight ;
Yet ftill thofe flowers, alas ! can make no moan,
Nor has Narciffus now a power to groan.
But all thofe things which breath in different frame,
By tie of common breath, man's pity claim. 5 1
A gentle lamb has rhetorick to plead, -j
And, when fhe fees the butcher's knife decreed, (
Her voice intreats him not to make her bleed. J
But cruel gain, and luxury of tafte, 55
With pride, flill lays man's fellow-mortals wafte :
What earth and waters breed, or air infpires,
Man for his palate fits by torturing fires.
Mully, a cow, fprung from a beauteous race,
With fpreading front, did Mountown's paftures
grace. 60
Gentle fhe was, and, with a gentle ftream,
Each morn and night gave milk that equal'd cream.
Offending none, of none fhe flood in dread,
Much lefs of perfons which fhe daily fed :
But innocence cannot itfelf defend 65
'Gainfl treacherous arts, veil'd with the name of
friend.
Robin of Darby-fhire, whofe temper fhocks
The conftitution of his native rocks ;
Born in a * place, which, if it once be nam'd,
Wou'd make a blufhing modefly afham'd : 70
* The Devil'* Arfe of Peak.
DR. KING. 147
He with indulgence kindly did appear
To make poor Mully his peculiar care,
But inwardly this fallen churlifh thief
Had all his mind plac'd upon Mully's beef;
His fancy fed on her, and thus he'd cry, 75
Mully, as fure as I'm alive, you die :
'Tis a brave cow ; O, Sirs, when Chriftmas
comes,
Thefe ftiins fhall make the porridge grac'd with
plums ;
Then, midft our cups, whilft we profufely dine,
This blade fhall enter deep in Mully's chine ;
What ribs, what rumps, what bak'd, boil'd,
ftew'd, and roaft !
There fhan't one fingle tripe of her be loft !
When Peggy, nymph of Mountown, heard theft
founds,
She griev'd to hear of Mully's future wounds.
What crime, fays me, has gentle Mully done ?
Witnefs the rifing and the fetting fun, 86
That knows what milk fhe conftantly would give !
Let that quench Robin's rage, and Mully live.
Daniel, a fprightly fwain, that us'd to flafli
The vigorous fteeds that drew his lord's calafh,
To Peggy's fide inclin'd, for 'twas well known
How well he lov'd thofe cattel of his own.
K 2
148 DR. KING.
Then Terence fpoke, oraculous and fly, 1
He'd neither grant the queftion nor deny ;
Pleading for milk, his thoughts were on mince- 1
pye:
But all his arguments fo dubious were,
That Mully thence had neither hope nor fear.
You've fpoke, fays Robin ; but now let me tell ye,
'Tis not fair-fpoken words that fill the belly ;
Pudding and beef I love, and cannot ftoop
To recommend your bonnyclapper foop. 101
You fay (he's innocent j but what of that ?
'Tis more than crime fufficient that {he's fat :
And that which is prevailing in this cafe
Is, there's another cow to fill her place. 105
And granting Mully to have milk in ftore,
Yet Hill this other cow will give us more.
She dies. Stop here, my mufe ; forbear the reft ;
And veil that grief which cannot be expreft.
HENRY AND EMMA,
A POEM,
UPON THE MODEL OF
THE NUT-BROWN MAID.*
BY MATTHEW PRIOR,
TO CLOE.
J. HOU, to whofe eyes I bend; at whofe commami
(Tho' low my voice, tho' artlefs be my hand)
I take the fprightly reed, and fing, and play ;
Carelefs of what the cenf'ring world may fay :
Bright Cloe, objeft of my conflant vow, 5
Wilt thou a while unbend thy ferious brow ?
Wilt thou with pleafure hear thy lover's ftrains,
And with one heav'nly fmile o'erpay his pains ?
No longer (hall the Nut-brown Maid be old ;
Tho' fmce her youth three hundred years have
roll'd.
At thy defire, me mall again be rais'd ; 1 1
And her reviving charms in lafling verfe be prais'd,
* See tbt POEMS BY UNCERTAIN AWTHO*,"
t Bern 1664; dyed 1781.
K3
150 PRIOR.
No longer man of woman fhall complain,
That he may love and not be lov'd again :
That we in vain the fickle fex purfue, 15
Who change the conftant lover for the new.
Whatever has been writ, whatever faid,
Of female paflion feign'd, or faith decay'd :
Henceforth (hall in my verfe refuted ftand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the fand. 20
And, while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love and ever-during flame ;
O faireft of the fex ! be thou my Mufe :
Deign on my work thy influence to diffiife :
Let me partake the bleflings I rehearfe, 25
And grant me love, the juft reward of verfe.
As beauty's potent queen, with ev'ry grace,
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face ;
And as her fon has to my bofom dealt
That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt ; 30
O let the ftory with thy life agree : "1
Let men once more the bright example fee ; ?
What Emma was to him, be thou to me. J
Nor fend me by thy frown from her I love,
Diftant and fad, a banifli'd man to rove. 35
But oh ! with pity long-intreated crown **
My pains and hopes ; and, when thou fay 'ft that one 1
Of all mankind thou lov'ft, oh ! think on me alone. J
VV HERE beauteous Ifis and her hufband Tame
With mingl'd waves, for ever flow, the fame, 40
PRIOR. 151
In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd ;
Great gifts beftow'd, and great refpeft receiv'd.
When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care
Led his free Britons to the Gallic war ;
This lord had headed his appointed bands, 45
In firm allegiance to the icing's commands ;
And (all due honors faithfully difcharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat, inlarg'd
With a new mark, the witnefs of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign Ipoil. 50
From the loud camp retir'd and noify court,
In honorable eafe and rural fport,
The remnant of his days he fafely paft ;
Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too faft.
He made his wifh with his eftate comply, 55
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.
One child he had, a daughter chad and fair,
His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir.
They call'd her Emma ; for the beauteous dame,
Who gave the virgin birth, had born the name :
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd ; 6 1
For in the child the mothers charms improv'd.
Yet, as when little, round his knees fhe play'd,
He call'd her oft, in fport, his Nut-br<nvnMati :
The friends and tenants took the fondling word
(As ftill they pleafe, who imitate their lord) ; 66
Ufage confirm'd what fancy had begun ; -\
The mutual terms around the lands were known ; (
And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one. J
K 4
152 PRIOR.
As with her flature, Itill her charms encreas'd ;
Thro' all the ifle her beauty was confefs'd. 71
Oh ! what perfections muft that virgin ftiare,
Who faireft is efteem'd, where all are fair !
From diftant mires repair the noble youth,
And find report, for once, had leflen'd truth. 75
By wonder firft, and then by paffion mov'd,
They came ; they faw ; they marvell'd ; and they
lov'd.
By public praifes, and by fecret fighs,
Each own'd the gen'ral power of Emma's eyes.
In tilts and turnaments the valiant ftrove, 80
By glorious deeds to purchafe Emma's love.
In gentle verfe, the witty told their flame,
And grac'd their choiceft fongs with Emma's name.
In vain they combated, in vain they writ :
Ufelefs their ftrength, and impotent their wit. 85
Great Venus only muft diredl the dart, "I
Which elfe will never reach the fair-one's heart, f
Spight of th' attempts of force, and foft effefts of 1
art. *
Great Venus muft prefer the happy one : -\
In Henry's caufe her favour muft be mown : i
And Emma, of mankind, muft love but him alone. J
While thefe in public to the caftle came,
And by their grandeur juftify'd their flame ;
More fecret ways the careful Henry takes ;
His fquires, his arms, and equipage forfakes : 95
PRIOR. 153
.In borrow'd name and falfe attire array'd,
Oft he finds means to fee the beauteous maid.
When Emma hunts in huntfman's habit dreft,
Henry on foot purfues the bounding beaft.
In his right hand his beechen pole he bears : 100
And graceful at his fide his horn he wears.
Still to the glade, where me has bent her way,
With knowing {kill he drives the future prey ;
Bids her decline the hill, and fliun the brake ;
And (hows the path her fteed may fafeft take ; 105
Direds her fpear to fix the glorious wound ; -\
Pleas'd, in his toils, to have her triumph crown'd ; \
And blows her praifes with no common found. J
A falc'ner Henry is, when Emma hawks :
With her of tarfels, and of lures he talks. 1 10
Upon his wrift the tow'ring merlin ftands,
Praftis'd to rife, and ftoop, at her commands.
And when fuperior now the bird has flown,
And headlong brought the tumbling quarry down ;
With humble reverence he accofls the fair. 1 1 5
And with the honor ? d feather decks her hair.
Yet (till, as from the fportive field he goes,
His downcaft eye reveals his inward woes ;
And by his look and forrow is expreft,
A nobler game purfued than bird or bead. 1 20
A fliepherd now along the plain he roves ;
And, with his jolly pipe, delights the groves.
The neighboring fwains around the ftranger throng,
Or to admire or emulate his fong :
154 PRIOR.
While, with foft forrow, he renews his lays, 125
Nor heedful of their envy, nor their praife.
But, foon as Emma's eyes adorn the plain,
His notes he raifes to a nobler ft rain ;
With dutiful refpeft, and ftudious fear,
Left any carelefs found offend her ear. 130
A frantick gipfey, now the houfe he haunts,
And in wild phrafes, fpeaks diflembled wants.
With the fond maids in palmiftry he deals :
They tell the fecret firft, which he reveals :
Says who mall wed, and who mail be beguil'd ;
What groom mail get, and fquire maintain the child.
But when bright Emma would her fortune know,
A fofter look unbends his op'ning brow ;
With trembling awe he gazes on her eye,
And in foft accents forms the kind reply ; 140
That me mail prove as fortunate as fair,
And Hymen's choiceft gifts are all referv'd for her.
Now oft had Henry chang'd his fly difguife,
Unmark'd by all but beauteous Emma's eyes ;
Oft had found means alone to fee the dame, 145
And at her feet to breath his am'rous flame ;
And oft, the pangs of abfence to remove
By letters, foft interpreters of love :
Till time and induftry (the mighty two
That bring our wifhes nearer to our view) 150
Made him perceive, that the inclining fair
Receiv'd his vows with no reluctant ear ;
PRIOR. 155
That Venus had confirm'd her equal reign,
And dealt to Emma's heart a (hare of Henry's pain.
While Cupid fmil'd, by kind occafion blefs'd,
And, with the fecret kept, the love increas'd ;
The amorous youth frequents the filent groves ;
And much he meditates, for much he loves.
He loves : 'tis true ; and is belov'd again :
Great are his joys : but will they long remain ?
Emma with fmiles receives his prefent flame ; 161
But, fmiling, will fhe ever be the fame ?
Beautiful looks are rul'd by fickle minds ;
And fummer feas are turn'd by fudden winds.
Another love may gain her eafy youth : 1 65
Time changes thought ; and flatt'ry conquers truth.
O impotent eftate of human life !
Where hope and fear maintain eternal Jlrife ;
Where fleeting joy does lading doubt infpire ;
And moft we queftion, what we moft defire. 1 70
Amongft thy various gifts, great heav'n, beftow
Our cup of love unmix'd ; forbear to throw
Bitter ingredients in ; nor pall the draught
With naufeous grief: for our ill-judging thought
Hardly enjoys the pleafurable tafte ; 175
Or deems it not fincere ; or fears it cannot laft.
With wiflies rais'd, with jealoufies oppreft,
(Alternate tyrants of the human breaft)
By one great trial he refolves to prove
The faith of woman, and the force of love. 1 80
!
J
156 PRIOR.
If fcanning Emma's virtues, he may find
That beauteous frame inclofe a fteady mind,
He'll fix his hope, of future joy fecure ;
And live a flave to Hymen's happy pow'r.
But if the fair one, as he fears, is frail ;
If, pois'd aright in reafon's equal fcale,
Light fly her merits, and her faults prevail ;
His mind he vows to free from am'rous care,
The latent mifchief from his heart to tear,
Refume his azure arms, and mine again in war.
South of the cattle, in a verdant glade, 191
A fpreading ' beech' extends her friendly made :
Here oft the nymph his breathing vows had heard j
Here oft her filence had her heart declar'd.
As aftive fpring awak'd her infant buds, 195
And genial life inform'd the verdant woods ;
Henry, in knots involving Emma's name,
Had half exprefs'd and half conceal'd his flame
Upon the tree : and, as the tender mark
Grew with the year, and widen'd with the bark,
Venus had heard the virgin's foft addrefs, 201
That, as the wound, the paflion might increafe.
As potent nature Ihed her kindly fliow'rs,
And deck'd the various mead with op'ning flowers ;
Upon this tree the nymph's obliging care 205
Had left a frequent wreath for Henry's hair ;
Which as with gay delight the lover found,
Pleas'd with his conqueft, with her prefent crown'd>
V. 192. beach.
PRIOR. 157
Glorious thro' all the plains he oft had gone, -
And to each fwain the myftic honour fhown ; (
The gift ftill prais'd, the giver ftill unknown. J
His fecret note the troubled Henry writes ;
To the known tree the lovely maid invites :
Imperfeft words and dubious terms exprefs,
That unforefeen mifchance difturb'd his peace ;
That he mufl fomething to her ear commend, 216
On which her conduct, and his life depend.
Soon as the fair-one had the note receiv'd,
The remnant of the day alone me griev'd :
For diff'rent this from every former note, 220
Which Venus dictated, and Henry wrote ;
Which told her all his future hopes were laid
On the dear bofom of his Nut-lrown Maid',
Which always blefs'd her eyes, and own'd her
pow'r ;
And bid her oft adieu, yet added more. 225
Now night advanc'd. The houfe in fleep were laid :
The nurfe experienc'd, and the prying maid ;
At laft that fprite, which does inceffant haunt
The lovers fteps, the ancient maiden aunt.
To her dear Henry Emma wings her way, 230
With quicken'd pace repairing forc'd delay ;
For Love, fantaftic power, that is afraid
To ftir abroad 'till watchfulnefs be laid,
Undaunted then, o'er cliffs and valleys ftrays,
And leads his vot'ries fafe thro' pathlefs ways.
158 PRIOR.
Not Argus with his hundred eyes fhall find 236
Where Cupid goes ; tho' he, poor guide, is blind.
The maiden, firft arriving, fent her eye
To a(k, if yet its chief delight were nigh :
With fear, and with defire, with joy and pain,
She fees, and runs to meet him on the plain. 241
But oh ! his fteps proclaim no lover's hafte ;
On the low ground his fix'd regards are caft ;
His artful bofom heaves diflembl'd fighs ;
And tears fuborn'd fall copious from his eyes. 245
With eafe, alas ! we credit what we love :
His painted grief does real forrow move
In the afflidted fair; adown her cheek
Trickling the genuine tears their current break ;
Attentive flood the mournful nymph : the man
Broke filence firft : the tale alternate ran : 251
Sincere, O tell me, haft thou felt a pain,
Emma, beyond what woman knows to feign ?
Has thy uncertain bofom ever ftrove
With the firft tumults of a real love ? 255
Had thou now dreaded, and now bleft his fway,
By turns averfe, and joyful to obey ?
Thy virgin foftnefs haft thou e'er bewail'd,
As reafon yielded, and as love prevail'd ?
And wept the potent god's refiftlefs dart, -j
His killing pleafure, his ecftatic fmart, \
And heav'nly poifon thrilling thro' thy heart ? J
PRIOR. 159
If fo, with pity view my wretched ftate ;
At leaft deplore, and then forget my fate :
To fome more happy knight referve thy charms,
By fortune favour'd, and fuccefsful arms : 266
And only, as the fun's revolving ray
Brings back each year this melancholy day,
Permit one figh, and fet apart one tear,
To an abandon'd exile's endlefs care. 270
For me, alas ! out-caft of human race,
Love's anger only waits, and dire difgrace ;
For lo ! thefe hands in murther are imbru'd ;
Thefe trembling feet byjuftice are purfu'd:
Fate calls aloud, and haftens me away ; 275
A mameful death attends my longer Hay ;
And I this night muft fly from thee and love,
Condemn'd in lonely woods, a banifh'd man to rove.
What is our blifs, that changeth with the moon ;
And day of life, that darkens e'er 'tis neon ? 280
What is true paflion, if unbleft it dies ?
And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies ?
If love, alas ! be pain ; the pain I bear
No thought can figure, and no tongue declare.
Ne'er faithful woman felt, nor falfe one feign'd,
The flames which long have in my bofom reign'd :
The god of love himfelf inhabits there,
With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and care
His complement of (lores, and total war.
l6o PRIOR.
O ! ceafe then coldly to fufpeft my love ; 299
And let my deed, at leaft, my faith approve.
Alas ! no youth mall my endearments mare ;
Nor day nor night mail interrupt my care ;
No future ftory mall with truth upbraid
The cold indifPrence of the Nut-brown Maid:
Nor to hard banimment fhall Henry run ; 296
While carelefs Emma fleeps on beds of down.
View me refolv'd, where-e'er thou lead'ft, to go,
Friend to thy pain, and partner of thy woe :
For I attefl fair Venus, and her fon, 300
That I, of all mankind, will love but thee alone.
Let prudence yet obftrudl thy vent'rous way ;
And take good heed, what men will think and fay :
That beauteous Emma vagrant courfes took ;
Her father's houfe and civil life forfook ; 305
That, full of youthful blood, and fond of man,
She to the wood-land with an exile ran.
Refledl, that leflen'd fame is ne'er regain'd ;
And virgin honor once, is always ftain'd :
Timely advis'd, the coming evil fhun : 310
Better not do the deed, than weep it done.
No penance can abfolve our guilty fame ;
Nor tears, that warn out fin, can warn out mame.
Then fly the fad efFefts of defp'rate love ;
And leave a banim'd man through lonely woods to
PRIOR. l6l
Let Emma's haplefs cafe be falfely told
By the ra(h young, or the ill-natur'd old :
Let ev'ry tongue its various cenfures chufe ;
Abfolve with coldnefs, or with fpight accufe :
Fair Truth at laft her radiant beams will raife ;
And malice vanquifh'd heightens virtue's praife.
Let then thy favour but indulge my flight ;
O ! let my prefence make thy travels light ;
And potent Venus fhall exalt my name
Above the rumours of cenforious Fame ; 325
Nor from that bufie demon's reftlefs pow'r
Will ever Emma other grace implore,
Than that this truth mould to the world be known,
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone.
HENRY.
But canft thou wield the fword, and bend the bow ?
With adlive force repel the fturdy foe ? 331
When the loud tumult fpeaks the battel nigh,
And winged deaths in whittling arrows fly ;
Wilt thou, tho' wounded, yet undaunted flay,
Perform thy part, and fhare the dangerous day ?
Then, as thy ftrength decays, thy heart will fail,
Thy limbs all trembling, and thy cheeks all pale ;
With fruitlefs forrow, thou, inglorious maid,
Wilt weep thy fafety by thy love betray'd :
VOL. I. L
I&2 PRIOR.
Then to thy friend, by foes o'ercharg'd, deny
Thy little ufelefs aid, and coward fly : 341
Then wilt thou curfe the chance that made thee love
A banifli'd man, condemn'd in lonely woods to rove.
With fatal certainty Thaleftris knew
To fend the arrow from the twanging yew : 345
And, great in arms, and foremoft in the war,
Bonduca brandifh'd high the Britifh fpear.
Could thirft of vengeance and defire of fame
Excite the female breaft with martial flame ?
And (hall not loves diviner pow'r infpire 350
More hardy virtue, and more generous fire r
Near thee, miftruft not, conftant I'll abide,
And fall, or vanquim, fighting by thy fide.
Though my inferior ftrength may not allow,
That I fhould bear or draw the warrior bow ; 355
With ready hand, I will the fhaft fupply,
And joy to fee thy viftor arrows fly.
Touch'd in the battel by the hoftile reed,
Should'fl thou (but Heav'n avert it!) fhould'ft
thou bleed ;
To Hop the wounds my fineft lawn I'd tear, 360
Warn them with tears, and wipe them with my
hair:
Bleft, when my dangers, and my toils, have fhown,
That I, of all mankind, could lore but thee alone.
PRIOR. l6j
But canft thou, tender maid, canft thou fuftain
Afflictive want, or hunger's preffing pain ? 365
Thofe limbs, in lawn and fofteft filk array 'd,
From fun-beams guarded, and of winds afraid j
Can they bear angry Jove ? Can they refill
The parching dog-ftar, and the bleak north-eaft ?
When, chill'd by adverfe fnovvs, and beating rain,
We tread with weary fteps the longfome plain ;
When with hard toil we feek our ev'ning food,
Berries and acorns from the neighb'ring wood ;
And find among the cliffs no other houfe,
But the thin covert of fome gather'd boughs ; 375
Wilt thou not then reluftant fend thine eye
Around the dreary wafte ; and weeping try
(Tho' then, alas ! that trial be too late) -
To find thy father's hofpitable gate, (
And feats, where Eafe and Plenty brooding fate ?J
Thofe feats, whence long excluded thou muft mourn ;
That gate, for ever barr'd to thy return :
Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,
And hate a banim'd man, condemn'd in woods to
rove.
EMMA.
Thy rife of fortune did I only wed, 385
From it's decline determin'd to recede ?
Did I but purpofe to embark with thee
On the fmooth furface of a fummer's fea ;
L 2
164 PRIOR.
While gentle Zephyrs play in profp'rous gales,
And Fortune's favour fills the fwelling fails ; 390
But would forfake the fhip, and make the fhore,
When the winds whiftle, and the tempefts roar ?
No, Henry, no : one facred oath has ty'd -*
Our loves ; one deftiny our life mall guide ; (
Nor wild, nor deep our common way divide. J
When from the cave thou rifeft with the day,
To beat the woods, and roufe the bounding prey ;
The cave with mofs and branches I'll adorn,
And cheerful fit, to wait my lord's return :
And, when thou frequent bring'ft the fmitten deer
( For feldom, archers fay, thy arrows err) , 40 1
I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighb'ring wood,
And ftrike the fparkling flint, and drefs the food ;
With humble duty, and officious hafte,
I'll cull the furtheft mead for thy repaft : 405
The choiceft herbs I to thy board will bring ;
And draw thy water from the frefheft fpring :
And, when at night, with weary toil oppreft,
Soft {lumbers thou enjoy'ft, and wholefome reft ;
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight pray'r
Weary the gods to keep thee in their care ; 411
And joyous afk, at morn's returning ray,
If thou haft health, and I may blefs the day.
My thoughts {hall fix, my lateft wifh depend
On thee, guide, guardian, kinfinan, father, friend :
By all thefe facred names be Henry known -\
To Emma's heart : and grateful let him own, (
That Ihe, of all mankind, could love but him alone. J
PRIOR. T65
Vainly thou tell'ft me, what the woman's care
Shall in the wildnefs of the wood prepare : 420
Thou, ere thou goeft, unhappyeft of thy kind,
Muft leave the habit and the fex behind.
No longer (hall thy comely trefles break
In flowing ringlets on thy fnowy neck ;
Or fit behind thy head, an ample round, 425
In graceful ' braids' with various ribbon bound:
No longer mall the boddice, aptly lac'd
From thy full bofom to thy {lender * waift,'
That air and harmony of (hape exprefs,
Fine by degrees, and beautifully lefs : 430
Nor mall thy lower garments artful pleat,
From thy fair fide dependent to thy feet,
Arm their chafte beauties with a modeft pride,
And double ev'ry charm they feck to hide.
Th'ambrofial plenty of thy mining hair, 435
Cropt off" and loft, fcarce lower than thy ear,
Shall (land uncouth : a horfeman's coat mall hide
Thy taper mape, and comelinefs of fide :
The (hort trunk-hofe (hall (hew thy foot and knee
Licentious, and to common eye-fight free : 440
And, with a bolder ftride, and loofer air,
Mingl'd with men, a man thou muft appear.
Nor folitude, nor gentle peace of mind,
Miftaken maid, (halt thou in forefts find :
V. 426. breeds. V. 428. wade.
L 3
l66 PRIOR.
'Tis long fince Cynthia and her train were there ;
Or guardian gods made innocence their care. 446
Vagrants and out-laws fhall offend thy view ;
For fuch muft be my friends ; a hideous crew
By adverfe fortune mix'd in focial ill,
Train'd to aflault, and difciplin'd to kill : 450
Their common loves, a lewd abandon'd pack,
The beadle's lafh ftill flagrant on their back :
By floth corrupted, by diforder fed,
Made bold by want, and proftitute for bread :
With fuch muft Emma hunt the tedious day, 455
Affift their violence, and divide their prey :
With fuch me muft return at fetting light,
Tho' not partaker, witnefs of their night.
Thy ear, inur'd to charitable founds,
And pitying love, muft feel the hateful wounds
Of jeft obfcene and vulgar ribaldry, 461
The ill-bred queftion, and the lewd reply ;
Brought by long habitude from bad to worfe,
Muft hear the frequent oath, the direful curfe,
That lateft weapon of the wretches war, 465
And blafphemy, fad comrade of defpair.
Now, Emma, now the laft reflection make,
What thou would'ft follow, what thou muft forfake :
By our ill-omen'd ftars, and adverfe heav'n,
No middle objeft to thy choice is given. 470
Or yield thy virtue, to attain thy love ;
Or leave a banim'd man, condemn'd in woods to
rove.
PRIOR. 167
O grief of heart ! that our unhappy fates
Force thee to fuffer what thy honour hates :
Mix thee amongft the bad ; or make thee run
Too near the paths which virtue bids thee fhun.
Yet with her Henry ftill let Emma go ;
With him abhor the vice, but fliare the woe :
And fure my little heart can never err
Amidft the worft ; if Henry ftill be there. 480
Our outward aft is prompted from within ;
And from the linner's mind proceeds the fin :
By her own choice free Virtue is approv'd ;
Nor by the force of outward objefts mov'd.
Who has afTay'd no danger, gains no praife. 485
In a fmall ifle, amidft the wideft feas,
Triumphant Conftancy has fix'd her feat :
In vain the fyrens fing, the tempefts beat :
Their flattery fhe rejects, nor fears their threat.
For thee alone thefe little charms I dreft ; 490
Condemn'd them, or abfolv'd them by thy teft.
In comely figure rang'd, my jewels (hone,
Or negligently plac'd, for thee alone :
For thee again they lhall be laid afide ;
The woman, Henry, mall put off her pride 495
For thee : my cloaths, my fex, exchang'd for thee,-
I'll mingle with the people's wretched lee ; (
O line extreme of human infamy ! J
l68 PRIOR.
Wanting the fciflars, with thefe hands I'll tear
(If that obftrufts my flight) this load of hair. 500
Black foot, or yellow walnut mall difgrace
This little red and white of Emma's face.
Thefe nails with fcratches mail deform my breaft,")
Left by my look, or color be exprefs'd (
The mark of ' aught' high-born, or ever better I
drefs'd. *
Yet in this commerce, under this difguife, 506
Let me be grateful ftill in Henry's eyes ;
Loft to the world, let me to him be known : -\
My fate I can abfolve ; if he fhall own, (
That, leaving all mankind, I love but him alone. J
O wildeft thought of an abandon M mind ! 511
Name, habit, parents, woman, left behindi
Ev'n honour dubious, thou preferr'ft to go
Wild to the woods with me : faid Emma fo ?
Or did I dream what Emma never faid ? 515
O guilty error ! and O wretched maid !
Whofe roving fancy would refolve the fame -
With him, who next mould tempt her eafie fame ; (
And blow with empty words the fufceptible flame .J
Now why mould doubtful terms thy mind perplex ?
Confefs thy frailty, and avow thy fex : 521
No longer loofe defire for conftant love
Miftake ; but fay, 'tis man with whom thou long'ft
to rove.
V. 505. ought.
PRIOR. 169
Are there not poifons, racks, and flames, and
fwords ;
That Emma thus muft die by Henry's words ? 525
Yet what could fwords or poifon, racks or flame,!
But mangle and disjoint this brittle frame ? I
More fatal Henry's words ; they murder Emma's!
fame.
And fall thefe fayings from that gentle tongue,
Where civil fpeech and foft perfuafion hung ; 530
Whofe artful fweetnefs and harmonious ftrain,
Courting my grace, yet courting it in vain,
Call'd fighs, and tears, and wifhes, to its aid ; >
And, whilft it Henry's glowing flame convcy'd, \
Still blam'd the coldnefs of the Nut-brown Maid?)
Let envious jealoufie and canker'd fpight -*
Produce my actions to fevereft light, i
And tax my open day, or fecret night. J
Did e'er my tongue fpeak my unguarded heart
The leaft inclin'd to play the wanton's part ? 540
Did e'er my eye one inward thought reveal,
Which angels might not hear, and virgins tell ?
And haft thou, Henry, in my conduct known ">
One fault, but that which I muft never own, I
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but theel
alone. ^
170 PRIOR.
Vainly thou talk'ft of loving me alone : 546
Each man is man ; and all our fex is one.
Falfe are our words, and fickle is our mind : -
Nor in Loves ritual can we ever find 1
Vows made to laft, or promifes to bind. J
By nature prompted, and for empire made,
Alike by ftrength or cunning we invade :
When, arm'd with rage, we march againft the foe,
We lift the battel-ax, and draw the bow :
When, fir'd with paffion, we attack the fair, 555
Delufive fighs and brittle vows we bear :
Our falftiood and our arms have equal ufe ;
As they our conqueft, or delight produce.
The foolifli heart thou gav'ft, again receive,
The only boon departing love can give. 560
To be lefs wretched, be no longer true ; -
What ftrives to fly thee, why fhould'ft thou purfue ? I
Forget thy prefent flame, indulge a new. J
Single the lovelieft of the am'rous youth ;
Aflc for his vow ; but hope not for his truth. 565
The next man (and the next thou {halt believe) -\
Will pawn his gods, intending to deceive ; I
Will kneel, implore, perfift, o'ercome, and leave.J
Hence let thy Cupid aim his arrows right ;
Be wife and falfe, fhun trouble, feek delight ;
Change thou the firfl, nor wait thy lovers flight
lt5 1
light ; I
rs flight.J
PRIOR. 171
Why fhould'ft thou weep ? let Nature judge our
cafe ;
I faw thee young and fair ; purfu'd the chafe
Of youth and beauty : I another faw
Fairer and younger : yielding to the law 575
Of our all-ruling mother, I purfu'd
More youth, more beauty : bleft viciffitude !
My aftive heart flill keeps its priftine flame ;
The objeft alter'd, the defire the fame.
This younger fairer pleads her rightful charms ;
With prefent power compels me to her arms. 581
And much I fear, from my fubjefted mind
(If beauty's force to conflant love can bind),
That years may roll, ere in her turn the maid
Shall weep the fury of my love decay'd ; 585
And weeping follow me, as thou doft now,
With idle clamours of a broken vow.
Nor can the wildnefs of thy wifhes err
So wide, to hope that thou may'ft live with her.
Love, well thou know'fl, no partnership allows :
Cupid averfe rejects divided vows : 591
Then from thy foolifh heart, vain maid, remove!
An ufelefs forrow, and an ill-ftarr'd love ; (
And leave me, with the fair, at large in woods 1
to rove. *
EMMA.
Are we in life through one great error led ?
Is each man perjur'd, and each nymph betray'd ?
17* PRIOR.
Of the fuperior fex art thou the worft ?
Am I of mine the moft compleatly curft ?
Yet let me go with thee ; and going prove,
From what I will endure, how much I love. 600
This potent beauty, this triumphant fair,
This happy objeft of our diff'rent care,
Her let me follow ; her let me attend,
A fervant : (me may fcorn the name of friend.)
What me demands, inceflant I'll prepare : 605
I'll weave her garlands ; and I'll pleat her hair ;
My bufie diligence (hall deck her board ;
(For there at leaft I may approach my lord) ;
And, when her Henry's fofter hours advife 1
His fervants abfence, with deje&ed eyes ?
Far I'll recede, and fighs forbid to rife. J
Yet, when increafing grief brings flow difeafe ;
And ebbing life, on terms fevere as thefe,
Will have its little lamp no longer fed ;
When Henry's miftrefs mows him Emma dead ;
Refcue my poor remains from vile negleft : 616
With virgin honours let my hearfe be deckt,
And decent emblem ; and at leaft perfuade
This happy nymph, that Emma may be laid
Where thou, dear author of my death, where me,
With frequent eye my fepulchre may fee. 621
The nymph amidft her joys may haply breath
One pious figh, reflefting on my death,
And the fad fate which me may one day prove,
Who hopes from Henry's vows eternal love. 625
PRIOR. 17$
And thou forfworn, thou cruel, as thou art,
If Emma's image ever touch 'd thy heart ;
Thou fure muft give one thought, and drop one tear,
To her, whom love abandon'd to defpair ;
To her, who, dying, en the wounded ftone -\
Bid it in lading characters be known, I
That, of mankind, Ihe lov'd but thee alone. J
Hear, folemn Jove ; and confcious Venus, hear ;
And thou, bright maid, believe me, whilft I fwear ;
No time, no change, no future flame, mall move
The well-plac'd bafis of my lading love. 636
O powerful virtue ! O victorious fair ! -*
At leaft excufe a tryal too fevere : (
Receive the triumph, and forget the war. J
No banim'd man, condemn'd in woods to rove,
Intreats thy pardon, and implores thy love : 641
No perjur'd knight defires to quit thy arms,
Faireft collection of thy fexes charms,
Crown of my love, and honour of my youth :
Henry, thy Henry, with eternal truth, 645
As thou may'ft wi(h, (hall all his life imploy.
And found his glory in his Emma's joy.
In me behold the potent Edgar's heir,
Illuftrious earl : him terrible in war
Let Loyre confefs ; for me has felt his fword, 650
And trembling fled before the Britifh lord.
174 PRIOR.
Him great in peace and wealth fair Deva knows ;
For flie amidfl his fpacious meadows flows j
Inclines her urn upon his fatten'd lands;
And fees his num'rous herd imprint her fands.
And thou, my fair, my dove, {halt raife thy
thought
To greatnefs next to empire ; malt be brought
With folemn pomp to my paternal feat ;
Where peace and plenty on thy word {hall wait.
Mufic and fong mall wake the marriage-day : -*
And, whilft the priefts accufe the bride's delay, (
Myrtles and rofes mail obftruft her way. J
Friendmip mall ftill thy evening feafts adorn ;
And blooming peace mall ever blefs thy morn.
Succeeding years their happy race mail run ; 665
And Age unheeded by delight come on ;
While yet fuperior Love mall mock his pow'r ;
And when old Time mall turn the fated hour,
Which only can our well-ty'd knot unfold ;
What refts of both, one fepulchre mail hold. 670
Hence then for ever from my Emma's breaft
(That heav'n of foftnefs, and that feat of reft)
Ye doubts and fears, and all that know to moveT
Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love, (
Scatter'd by winds recede, and wild in foreftsl
rove. *
PRIOR. 175
light, I
white.J
O day the faireft fure that ever rofe !
Period and end of anxious Emma's woes !
Sire of her joy, and fource of her delight ;
O ! wing'd with pleafure take thy happy flight
And give each future morn a tinfture of thy whit
Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love, 68 1
Henry, my Henry, will he never rove ?
Will he be ever kind, and juft, and good ?
And is there then no miftrefs in the wood ?
None, none there is; the thought was rafti and
vain;
A falfe idea, and a fancy'd pain. 686
Doubt (hall for ever quit my ftrengthen'd heart,
And anxious jealoufie's corroding fmart ;
No other inmate mall inhabit there,
But foft Belief, young Joy, and pleafing Care.
Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow,
And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow.
If at my feet the fuppliant goddefs ftands,
And fheds her treafure with unweary'd hands ;
Her prefent favor cautious I'll embrace, 695
And not unthankful ufe the proffer'd grace ;
If (he reclaims the temporary boon,
And tries her pinions, flutt'ring to be gone ;
Secure of mind I'll obviate her intent,
And unconcern'd return the goods flic lent. 700
176 PRIOR.
Nor happinefs can I, nor mifery feel,
From any turn of her fantaftic wheel :
Friendfhip's great laws, and love's fuperior pow'rs
Muft mark the colour of my future hours.
From the events which thy commands create
I muft my bleflings or my forrows date ;
And Henry's will muft dictate Emma's fate.
Yet while with clofe delight and inward pride
(Which from the world my careful foul mall hide)
I fee thee, lord and end of my defire, 710
Exalted high as virtue can require ;
With power inverted, and with pleafure chear'd ;
Sought by the good, by the oppreffor fear'd ;
Loaded and bleft with all the affluent ftore,
Which human vows at fmoaking fhrines implore ;
Grateful and humble grant me to employ 716
My life, fubfervient only to thy joy ;
And at my death to blefs thy kindnefs mown
To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone.
VVH i LE thus the conftant pair alternate faid,
Joyful above them and around them play'd 721
Angels and fportive Loves, a numerous crowd ;
Smiling they clapt their wings, and low they bow'd :
They tumbled all their little quivers o'er,
To chufe propitious fnafts ; a precious ftore : 725
That, when their god mould take his future darts,
To ftrike (however rarely) conftant hearts,
PRIOR. 175-
His happy flull might proper arms imploy,
All tipt with pleafure, and all wing'd with joy :
And thofe, they vow'd, whofe lives mould imitate
Thefe lovers conftancy, fhould (hare their fate.
The queen of beauty ftopt her bridled doves ;
Approv'd the little labour of the Loves ;
Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear ; -j
And to the triumph call'd the god of war : " C.
Soon as me calls, the god is always near. j
Now, Mars, me faid, let Fame exalt her voice ;
Nor let thy conquefts only be her choice :
But when me fmgs great Edward from the field ">
Return'd, the hoflile fpear and captive fhield
In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught to 1
yield ;
And when, as prudent Saturn mall compleat
The years defign'd to perfeft Britain's ftate,
The fwift-wing'd pow'r mall take her trump again,
To fing her fav'rite Anna's wond'rous reign ;
To recollect unweary'd Marlbro's toils, 746
Old Rufus' hall unequal to his fpoils ;
The Britifli foldier from his high command
Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquilh'd by his hand :
Let her at leaft perform what I defire ; 750
With fecond breath the vocal brafs infpire,
And tell the nations, in no vulgar ftrain,
What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain.
VOL. I. M
178 PRIOR.
And, when thy tumults and thy fights are paft j
And when thy laurels at my feet are caft ; 755
Faithful may'ft thou, like Britifti Henry, prove :
And, Emma-like, let me return thy love.
Renown'd for truth, let all thy fons appear ;
And conftant Beauty {hall reward their care.
^lars fmil'd, and bow'd : the Cyprian deity
Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the flcy ; 760
And thou, me fmiling faid, great god of days
And verfe, behold my deed, and fing my praife ;
As on the Britim earth, my fav'rite ifle,
Thy gentle rays and kindeft influence fmile, 765
Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves,
Proclaim with joy thofe memorable loves :
From every annual courfe let one great day
To celebrated fports and floral play
Be fet afide ; and, in the fofteft lays 77*
Of thy poetic fons, be folemn praife,
And everlafting marks of honour paid
To the true Lover, and the Nut-lrown Maid*
PRIOR. 179
TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE.
BY THE SAME.
FROM public noife, and factious ftrife,
From all the bufy ills of life,
Take me, my Celia, to thy breaft ;
And lull my wearied foul to reft.
For ever, in this humble cell, 5
Let thee and I, my fair one, dwell ;
None enter elfe, but Love and he
Shall bar the door, and keep the key.
To painted roofs, and mining fpires,
(Uneafie feats of high defires) 10
Let the unthinking many croud,
That dare be covetous and proud :
In golden bondage let them wait,
And barter happinefs for ftate.
But oh ! my Celia, when thy fwain 15
Defires to fee a court again,
May heav'n around his deftin'd head
The choiceft of its curfes fhed !
M a
l8o PRIOR.
To fum up all the rage of fate -\
In the two things I dread and hate, C.
May'ft thou be falfe, and I be great ! J
Thus, on his Celia's panting breaft,
Fond Celadon his foul expreft ;
While with delight the lovely maid
Receiv'd the vows, me thus repaid : 25
Hope of my age, joy of my youth,
Bleft miracle of love and truth ;
All that could e'er be counted mine,
My love and life, long fince are thine :
A real joy I never knew, 30
Till I believ'd thy paffion true :
A real grief I ne'er can find,
Till thou prov'ft perjur'd, or unkind.
Contempt, and poverty, and care,
All we abhor, and all we fear,
Bleft with thy prefence, I can bear.
Thro' waters and thro' flames I'll go,
Suff'rer and folace of thy woe :
Trace me fome yet unheard-of way,
That I thy ardour may repay ; 40
And make my conftant paffion known,
By more than woman yet has done.
Had I a wim that did not bear
The ftamp and image of my dear ;
I'd pierce my heart through ev'ry vein,
And die, to let it out again. 46
PRIOR. l8l
No : Venus Ihall my witnefs be,
(If Venus ever lov'd like me)
That for one hour I would not quit
My fhepherd's arms, and this retreat, 50
To be the Perfian monarch's bride,
Partner of all his pow'r and pride ;
Or rule in regal ftate above,
Mother of Gods, and wife of Jove.
O happy tbefe of human race !
But foon, alas ! our pleafures pafs. 56
He thank'd her on his bended knee ;
Then drank a quart of milk and tea ;
And, leaving her ador'd embrace,
Haften'd to court to beg a place. 60
While fhe, his abfence to bemoan,
The very moment he was gone,
CalPd Thyrfis from beneath the bed !
Where all this time he had been hid.
MORAL.
\VH i L E men have thefe ambitious fancies ;
And wanton wenches read romances ;
Our fex will ---What? Out with it. Lie;
And their's in equal {trains reply.
The moral of the tale I fing
(A pofy for a wedding-ring) 70
In this fhort verfe will be confin'd :
Love is a j eft ; and vows are wind.
M 3
:o2 PRIOR.
THE GARLAND.
BV THE SAME.
1 H E pride of every grove I chofe,
The violet fweet, and lilly fair,
The dappl'd pink, and bluming rofe,
To deck my charming Cloe's hair.
II.
At morn the nymph vouchfaft to place
Upon her brow the various wreath ;
The flow'rs lefs blooming than her face,
The fcent lefs fragrant than her breath.
III.
The flow'rs {he wore along the day :
And ev'ry nymph and ftiepherd faid,
That in her hair they lookt more gay
Than glowing in their native bed.
IV.
Undreft at evening, when flie found
Their odours loft, their colours paft ;
She chang'd her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eye me caft.
PRIOR. 183
V.
That eye dropt fenfe diftinft and clear,
As any Mufe's tongue could fpeak,
When from its lid a pearly tear
Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.
VI.
Diflembling what I knew too well, 21
My love, my life, faid I, explain
This change of humour : pr'ythee tell :
That falling tear what does it mean ?
VII.
She figh'd ; me fmil'd : and to the flow'rs
Pointing, the lovely moralift faid ; 26
See ! friend, in fome few fleeting hours,
See yonder, what a change is made !
VIII.
Ah me ! the blooming pride of May,
And that of beauty, are but one : 30
At morn both flourifh bright and gay ;
Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
IX.
At dawn poor Stella danc'd and fung ;
The am'rous youth around her bow'd ;
At night her fatal knell was rung ; 35
I faw, and kifs'd her in her flirowd.
M 4
184 PRIOR.
X.
Such as (he is, who dy'd to-day;
Such I, alas ! may be to-morrow :
Go, Damon, bid thy Mufe difplay
The juftice of thy Cloe's forrow. 40
A LOVER'S ANGER.
BY THE SAME.
A s Cloe came into the room t'other day,
I peevifh began ; Where fo long could you ftay ?
In your life-time you never regarded your hour :
You promis'd at two ; and (pray look, child) 'tis
four.
A lady's watch needs neither figures nor wheels ; 5
'Tis enough, that 'tis loaded with baubles and feals.
A temper fo heedlefs no mortal can bear
Thus far I went on with a refolute air.
Lord blefs me ! faid me ; let a body but fpeak :
Here's an ugly hard rofe-bud fall'n into my neck :
It has hurt me, and vext me to fuch a degree
See here ! for you never believe me ; pray fee,
PRIOR. 185
On the left fide my breaft, what a mark it had made !"
So faying, her bofom fhe carelefs display'
That feat of delight I with wonder furvey'd
And forgot ev'ry word I defign'd to have faid.
*~_
idmade!"!
,u I
=y'<i; I
>* fair! J
MERRY ANDREW.
BY THE SAME.
DLY Merry Andrew, the laft Southwark-fair -
(At Barthol'mew he did not much appear, C
So peevifh was the edidt of the may'r) ; J
At Southwark therefore, as his tricks he fliow'd,
To pleafe our matters, and his friends the croud ;
A huge neats -tongue he in his right-hand held, 6
His left was with a good black-pudding fill'd.
With a grave look, in this odd equipage,
The clownifli mimic traverfes the ftage.
Why how now, Andrew ! cries his brother droll ;
To-days conceit, methinks, is fomething dull :
Come on, fir, to our worthy friends explain,
What does your emblematic worfhip mean ?
Quoth Andrew, honeft Englifh let us fpeak :
Your emble- (what d'ye call 't) is heathen Greek.
186 PRIOR.
To tongue or pudding thou haft no pretence :
Learning thy talent is ; but mine is fenfe.
That bufie fool I was, which thou art now ;
Defirous to correft, not knowing how ;
With very good defign, but little wit, 20
Blaming or praifing things, as I thought fit.
I for this conduft had what I deferv'd ;
And, dealing honeftly, was almoft flarv'd.
But, thanks to my indulgent ftars, I eat ;
Since I have found the fecret to be great. 25
O, deareft Andrew, fays the humble droll,
Henceforth may I obey, and thou controll ;
Provided thou impart thy ufeful fkill.
Bow then, fays Andrew ; and, for once, I will.
Be of your patrons mind, whate'er he fays ; 30
Sleep very much ; think little ; and talk lefs :
Mind neither good nor bad, nor right nor wrong ;
But eat your pudding, flave ; and hold your tongue.
A reverend prelate ftopt his coach and fix,
To laugh a little at our Andrew's tricks : 35
But, when he heard him give this golden rule,
Drive on (he cry'd) ; this fellow is no fool.
PRIOR. 187
A REASONABLE AFFLICTION.
BY THE SAME.
ON his death-bed poor Lubin lies :
His fpoufe is in defpair :
With frequent fobs, and mutual cries,
They both exprefs their care.
A different caufe, fays parfon Sly, 5
The fame effedl may give :
Poor Lubin fears, that he fhall die ;
His wife, that he may live.
OCCASIONED BY VERSES SENT TO THE
AUTHOR III HIS RETIREMENT, BY
MRS. ELIZABETH HIGGONS.
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1690.
BY GEO. GRANVILLE, LORD LANSDOWNE.*
CHASE, tempting Siren, ceafe thy flatt'ring ftrain,
Sweet is thy charming fong, but fung in vain :
When the winds blow, and loud the tempefts roar,
What fool would truft the waves, and quit the more ?
Early, and vain, into the world I came, 5
Big with falfe hopes, and eager after fame ;
Till looking round me, ere the race began,
Madmen, and giddy fools were all that ran :
Reclaim'd betimes, I from the lifts retire,
And thank the gods * who' my retreat infpire. 10
In happier times our anceftors were bred,
When virtue was the only path to tread :
Give me, ye gods ! but the fame road to fame,
Whate'er my fathers dar'd, I dare the fame.
Chang'd is the fcene, fome baneful planet rules
An impious world, contriv'd for knaves and fools.
* Born 1667; dyed 1735.
V. 10. whom.
LANSDOWNE. 189
Look now around, and with impartial eyes
Confider, and examine all who rife ;
Weigh well their aftions, and their treach'rous ends,
How greatnefs grows, and by what (reps afcends ;
What murders, treafons, perjuries, deceit; 21
How many crulh'd, to make one monfter great.
Would you command ? Have Fortune in yourpow'r ?
Hug when you ftab, and fmile when you devour ?
Be bloody, falfe, flatter, forfwear, and lye, 25
Turn pander, pathick, parafite, or Ipy ;
Such thriving arts may your wim'd purpofe bring,
A minifter at leaft, perhaps a king.
Fortune we molt unjuftly partial call,
A miftrefs free, who bids alike to all ; 30
But on fuch terms as only fuit the bafe,
Honour denies and fhuns the foul embrace.
The honeft man, who ftarves and is undone,
Not Fortune, but his vertue keeps him down.
Had Cato bent beneath the conq'ring caufe, 35
He might have liv'd to give new fenates laws ;
But on vile terms difdaining to be great,
He perifli'd by his choice, and not his fate.
Honours and life, th* ufurper bids, and all
That vain miftaken men Good-fortune call, 4*
Virtue forbids, and fets before his eyes
An honeft death, which he accepts, and dies :
O glorious refolution ! noble pride !
More nonour'd, than the tyrant liv'd, he dy'd ;
IQO LANSDOWNE.
More lov'd, more prais'd, more envy'd in his doom,
Than Casfar trampling on the rights of Rome. 46
The virtuous nothing fear, but life with fhame,
And death's a pleafant road that leads to fame.
On bones, and fcraps of dogs let me be fed, -j
My limbs uncover'd, and expos'd my head (
To bleakeft colds, a kennel be my bed.
This, and all other martyrdom for thee,
Seems glorious, all, thrice beauteous Honefly !
Judge me, ye pow'rs ! Let Fortune tempt or frown,
I Hand prepar'd, my honour is my own. 55
Ye great difturbers, who in endlefs noife,
In blood and rapine feek unnatural joys ;
For what is all this buftle but to fhun
Thofe thoughts with which you dare not be alone ?
As men in mifery, oppreft with care, 60
Seek in the rage of wine to drown defpair.
Let others fight, and eat their bread in blood,
Regardlefs if the caufe be bad or good ;
Or cringe in courts, depending on the nods
Of ftrutting pygmies who would pafs for gods.
For me, unpraftis'd in the courtiers fchool, 66
Who loath a knave, and tremble at a fool ;
Who honour gen'rous Wycherly oppreft,
Pofleft of little, worthy of the beft,
Rich in himfelf, in virtue that outmines 70
All but the fame of his immortal lines ;
L A N S D O WNE. igl
More than the wealthieft lord, who helps to drain
The familh'd land, and rouls in impious gain ;
What can I hope in courts ? Or how fucceed ? T
Tygers and wolves fhall in the ocean breed, >
The whale and dolphin fatten on the meed, J
And every element exchange its kind,
Ere thriving honefty in courts we find.
Happy the man, of mortals happieft he,
Whofe quiet mind from vain defires is free ; 80
Whom neither hopes deceive, nor fears torment,
But lives at peace, within himfelf content ;
In thought or aft, accountable to none,
But to himfelf, and to the gods alone :
O fweetnefs of content ! Seraphick joy ! 85
Which nothing wants, and nothing can deftroy.
Where dwells this peace, this freedom of the
mind ?
Where, but in fhades remote from human kind ;
In flow'ry vales, where nymphs and fhepherds
meet,
But never comes within the palace gate. 90
Farewell then cities, courts, and camps, farewell,
Welcome, ye groves, here let me ever dwell,
From cares, from bufmefs, and mankind remove,
All but the Mufes, and infpiring Love :
How fweet the morn ! how gentle is the night !
How calm the ev'ning ! and the day how bright !
IQ2 LANSDOWNE.
From hence, as from a hill, I view below
The crowded world, a mighty wood in fhow,
Where feveral wand'rers travel day and night
By different paths, and none are in the right.
BAUCIS AND PHILEMON.
IMITATED, FROM THE EIGHTH BOOK
OF OVID.
WRITTEN, 1706.
BY JONATHAN SWIFT, D. D.
DEAN OF ST. PATRICK'S, DUBLIN.*
1 N ancient times, as (lory tells,
The faints would often leave their cells,
And ftrole about, but hide their quality,
To try good people's holpitality.
It happen'd on a winter-night, 5
As authors of the legend write,
Two brother-hermits, faints by trade,
Taking their tour in mafquerade,
Difguis'd in tatter'd habits went
To a fmall village down in Kent ; 10
Where, in the ftrolers canting ftrain,
They beg'd from door to door in vain,
* Born 1667 5 dyd J 745*
Voi. I. N
4 SWIFT.
Try'd every tone might pity win ;
But not a foul would let them in.
Our wand'ring faints, in woful ftate, 15
Treated at this ungodly rate,
Having through all the village pafs'd,
To a fmall cottage came at laft,
Where dwelt a good old honeft yeoman,
Call'd in the neigbourhood Philemon. z
Who kindly did thefe faints invite
In his poor hut to pafs the night :
And then the hofpitable fire
Bid goody Baucis mend the fire ;
While he from out the chimney took 25.
A flitch of bacon off the hook,
And freely from the fatteft fide
Cut out large flices to be fry'd :
Then ftepp'd afide to fetch 'em drink,
Fill'd a large jug up to the brink, 30
And faw it fairly twice go round ;
Yet (what is wonderful) they found
'Twas ftill replenifh'd to the top,
As if they not had toucht a drop.
The good old couple were amaz'd, 3$
And often on each other gaz'd ;
For both were frighten'd to the heart,
And juft began to cry, What art ?
Then foftly turn'd afide to view
Whether the lights were burning blue. 40
SWIFT. 195
The gentle pilgrims, foon aware on't,
Told them their calling, and their errant ;
Good folks, you need not be afraid,
We are but faints, the hermits faid ; ,
No hurt fhall come to you or yours ; 45
But for that pack of chnrlifh boors,
Not fit to live on Chriftian ground,
They and their houfes fhall be drown'd :
Whilft you fhall fee your cottage rife,
And grow a church before your eyes. 50
They fcarce had fpoke, when fair and foft
The roof began to mount aloft ;
Aloft rofe ev'ry beam and rafter,
The heavy wall clinjib'd flowly after.
The chimney widen'd, and grew higher,
Became a fteeple with a fpire. 56
The kettle to the top was hoift,
And there Hood fafl'ned to a joift ;
But with the upfide down to {hew
Its inclination for below : 60
In vain ; for a fuperior force
Apply 'd at bottom flops its courfe :
Doom'd ever in fufpence to dwell,
'Tis now no kettle, but a bell.
A wooden jack, which had almoft 65
Loft, by difufe, the art to roaft,
K z
196: SWIFT.
A fudden alteration feels,
Increas'd by new inteftine wheels ;
And, what exalts the wonder more,
The number made the motion flow'r. 70
The flyer, tho't had leaden feet,
Turn'd round fo quick, you fcarce cou'd fee 't ;
But, flacken'd by fome fecret power,
Now hardly moves an inch an hour.
The jack and chimney, near ally'd, 75
Had never left each other's fide ;
The chimney to a fteeple grown,
The jack would not be left alone,
But, up againft the fteeple rear'd,
Became a clock, and ftill adher'd : 80
And ftill its love to houftiold-cares,
By a fhrill voice at noon, declares ;
Warning the cook-maid not to burn
That roaft-meat which it cannot turn.
The groaning chair began to crawl, 85
Like an huge fnail, along the wall ;
There ftuck aloft, in publick view,
And, with fmall change, a pulpit grew.
The porringers, that in a row
Hung high, and made a glitt'ring fhow, 90
To a lefs noble fubftance chang'd,
Were now but leathern buckets rang'd.
SWIFT. 197
The ballads, parted on the wall,
Of Joan of France, and EngllJJj Moll,
Fair RofamonJ, and Robin Hood, 95
Ttx little children in the tuooJ,
Now feem'd to look abundance better,
Improv'd in piflurc, fize, and letter ;
And, high in order plac'd, defcribe
The heraldry of ev'ry tribe.* io
A bedftead of the antique mode,
Compadl of timber many a load,
Such as our anceftors did ufe,
Was metamorphos'd into pews ;
Which ftill their ancient nature keep, 105
By lodging folks difpos'd to fleep.
The cottage by fuch feats as thefe
Grown to a church by juft degrees,
The hermits then defir'd their holt
To aflc for what he fancy'd moft. no
Philemon having paus'd a while,
Return'd 'em thanks in homely ftile ;
Then faid, My houfe is grown fo fine,
Methinks, I ftill would call it mine,
I'm old, and fain wou'd live at eafe ; 115
Make me the parfon, if you pleafe.
* " Of the twelve tribes of Ifrarl, which In country
churches are fometimes d!J}!ngu!JLed by the enjignt apfrtfri-
ated to tbtm by Jacob an bit death bed."
198 SWIFT.
He fpoke, and prefently he feels
His grazier's coat fall down his heels ;
He fees, yet hardly can believe,
About each a;-m a pudding-fleeve ; 120
His waftcoat to a caflbck grew,
And both arTum'd a fable hue ;
But, being old, continued juft
As thread-bare, and as full of duft.
His talk was now of tythes and dues : 1 25
He fraok'd his pipe, and read the news ;
Knew how to preach old fermons next,
Vampt in the preface and the text ;
At chriftnings well could aft his part,
And had the fervice all by heart ; 1 39
Wilh'd women might have children fair,
And thought whofe fow had farrow'd laft ;
Againft diflenters would repine,
And Hood up firm for right divine ;
Found his head fill'd with many a fyftem :
But claffick authors, he ne'er mifs'd 'em.
Thus having furbifh'd up a parfon,
Dame Baucis next they play'd their farce on.
Inftead of home-fpun coifs, were feen
Good pinners edg'd with colberteen ; 140
Her petticoat, transform'd apace,
Became black fatrin, flounc'd with lace.
Plain goody would no longer down,
'Twas madam, in her grogram gown.
SWIFT. 199
Philemon was in great furprize, 145
And hardly could believe his eyes,
Amaz'd to fee her look fo prim ;
And {he admir'd as much at him.
Thus happy in their change of life
Were feveral years this man and wife : 150
When on a day, which prov'd their laft,
Difcourfing o'er old (lories paft,
They went by chance, amidft their talk,
To the church-yard to take a walk ;
When Baucis haftily cry'd out, 155
My dear, I fee your forehead fprout.
Sprout ! quoth the man ; what's this you tell us ?
I hope you don't believe me jealous :
But yet, methinks, I feel it true ;
And re'ly, yours is budding too 160
Nay, now I cannot ftir my foot;
It feels as if 'twere taking root.
Defcription would but tire my Mufe ;
In fhort, they both were turn'd toytws.
Old goodman Dobfon of the green 165
Remembers, he the trees has feen ;
He'll talk of them from noon to night,
And goes with folks to mew the fight ;
On Sundays, after ev'ning-prayer,
He gathers all the parim thjere j> 170
N 4
100 SWIFT.
Points out the place of either yew ;
Here Baucis, there Philemon, grew :
Till once a parfon of our town,
To mend his barn, cut Baucis down ;
At which 'tis hard to be believ'd 175
How much the other tree was griev'd,
Grew fcrubby, dy'd a-top, was ftunted :
So the next parfon ftub'd and burnt it.
VERSES
OK THE
DEATH OF DOCTOR SWIFT.
OCCASIONED BY READING THE FOLLOWING
MAXIM IN ROCHFOUCAULT :
Dans Vadverfite de nos meilleurs amis nous trouvons
toujours quelque chafe, qui ne nous deplaifl pas.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF: NOV. 1731.
A s Rochfoucault his maxims drew
From nature, I believe 'em true :
They argue no corrupted mind
In him j the fault is in mankind.
SWIFT. 201
This maxim more than all the reft 5
Is thought too bafe for human breaft :
*? In all diftrefles of our friends
" We firft confult our private ends ;
" While Nature, kindly bent to eafe us,
" Points out fome circumftance to pleafe us."
If this perhaps your patience move,
Let reafon and experience prove.
We all behold with envious eyes
Our equal rais'd above our fize.
I love my friend as well as you : 15
But why mould he obftrudl my view ?
Then let me have the higher poft ;
Suppofe it but an inch at moft.
If in a battle you mould find
One whom you love of all mankind, 20
Had fome heroick acYion done,
A champion kill'd, or trophy won ;
Rather than thus be overtopt,
Wou'd you not wifh his lawrels cropt ?
Dear honeft Ned is in the gout, 25
Lies rack'd with pain, and you without :
How patiently you hear him groan !
How glad, the cafe is not your own !
What poet would not grieve to fee
His brother write as well as he ? 30
But, rather than they mould excel,
Would wifh his rivals all in hell ?
2O2 SWIFT.
Her end when emulation mifles,
She turns to envy, flings, and hifle:
The ftrongeft friendfhip yields to pride, 35
Unlefs the odds be on our fide.
Vain human-kind ! fantaftick race !
Thy various follies who can trace ?
Self-love, ambition, envy, pride,
Their empire in our hearts divide. 40
Give others riches, power, and ftation ;
'Tis all on me an ufurpation.
I have no title to afpire ;
Yet, when you fijik, I feem the higher.
In Pope I cannot read a line, 45
But with a figh I wifti it mine :
When he can in one couplet fix
More fenfe than I can do in fix,
It gives me fuch a jealous fit,
I cry, Pox take him and his wit. 50
I grieve to be outdone by Gay
In my own humorous biting way.
Arbuthnot is no more my friend,
Who dares to irony pretend ;
Which I was born to introduce ; 55
Refin'd it fir ft, and fhew'd its ufe.
St. John,* as well as Pultney,f knows
That I had fome repute for profe ;
* Vlfc ount Bolingbroke.
i Williaai Put/eny, efq; after-ward earl of Batb.
SWIFT. 203
And, till they drove me out of date,
Could maul a minifter of ftate, 60
If they have mortify 'd my pride,
And made me throw my pen alide ;
If with fuch talents heav'n hath bleft 'em,
Have I not reafon to deleft 'em ?
To all my foes, dear Fortune, fend 65
Thy gifts, but never to my friend :
I tamely can endure the firft ;
But this with envy makes me burft.
Thus much may ferve by way of proem j
Proceed we therefore to our poem. 70
The time is not remote, when I
Muft by the courfe of nature dye ;
When, I forefee, my fpecial friends
Will try to find their private ends.
And, tho' 'tis hardly underftood 75
Which way my death can do them good,
Yet thus, methinks, I hear them fpeak :
See, how the dean begins to break !
Poor gentleman ! he droops apace ;
You plainly find it in his face. 80
That old vertigo in his head
Will never leave him till he's dead.
Befides, his memory decays :
He recollefls not what he fays ;
He cannot call his friends to mind ; 85
Forgets the place where laft he din'd :
204 s w r F r.
Plies you with {lories o'er and o'er ;
He told 'em fifty times before.
How does he fancy we can fit
To hear his out-of-fafhion w\f. ? 90
But he takes up with younger folks
Who, for his wine, will bear his jokes.
Faith, he mufl make his ftories ftiorter,
Or change his comrades once a quarter :
In half the time he talks them round, 95
There muft another fet be round.
For poetry, he's paft his prime ;
He takes an hour to find a rhime :
His fire is out, his wit decay'd,
His fancy funk, his mufe a jade. 100
I'd have him throw away his pen ;
But there's no talking to fome men.
And then their tendernefs appears
By adding largely to my years :
He's older than he would be reckon'd, 105
And well remembers Charles the fecond.
He hardly drinks a pint of wine ;
And that, I doubt, is no good fign.
His ftomach too begins to fail :
Laft year we thought him ftrong and hale ;
But now he's quite another thing : in
I wiih he may hold out till fpring.
They hug themfelves, and reafon thu ;
It is not yet fo bad with us.
SWIFT. 205
In filch a cafe they talk in tropes, 1 1 5
And, by their fears, exprefs their hopes.
Some great misfortune to portend,
No enemy can match a friend.
With all the kindnefs they profefs,
The merit of a lucky guefs 120
(When daily how d'y's come of courfe,
And fervants anfwer, " worfe and worfe !")
Wou'd pleafe them better, than to tell,
That, God be prais'd ! the dean is well.
Then he who prophefy'd the bell, 125
Approves his judgment to the reft :
" You know, I always fear'd the worft,
" And often told you fo at firft."
He'd rather choofe that I ihould dye,
Than his prediction prove a lye. 130
Not one foretels I mail recover ;
But all agree to give me over.
Yet mould fome neighbour feel a pain
Jufl in the parts where I complain ;
How many a mefiage would he fend ? 155
What hearty prayers, that I mould mend ?
Enquire what regimen I kept ;
What gave me eafe, and how I flept ?
And more lament when I was dead
Than all the faivelers round my bed. 140
My good companions, never fear ;
For, though you may mi (lake a year,
06 SWIFT*
Though your prognofticks run too faft,
They muft be verify'd at laft.
Behold the fatal day arrive ! 145
How is the dean ? he's juft alive.
Now the departing prayer is read ;
He hardly breathes The dean is dead.
Before the paffing-bell begun,
The news thro' half the town has run.
Oh ! may we all for death prepare ! 151
What has he left ? And who's his heir ?
I know no more, than what the news is ;
'Tis all bequeath'd to publick ufes.
To publick ufes ! there's a whim ! 155
What had the publick done for him ?
Mere envy, avarice, and pride :
He gave it all but firil he dy'd.
And had the dean in all the nation
No worthy friend ? no poor relation ? 160
So ready to do ftrangers good,
Forgetting his own flefh and blood ?
Now Grub-ftreet wits are all employ'd ;
With elegies the town is cloy'd :
Some paragraph in every paper 165
To curfe the Jean, or blcfs the drapier.
The doftors, tender of their fame,
Wifely on me lay all the blame.
We mult confefs his cafe was nice ;
But he would never take advice. 170
SWIFT.
Had he been rul'd, for ought appears,
He might have liv'd thefe twenty years :
For, when we open'd him, we found,
That all his vital parts were found.
From Dublin foon to London fpread, 175
'Tis told at court, the dean is dead ;
And Lady Suffolk * in the fpleen
Runs laughing up to tell * * *.
* * fo gracious, mild and good,
Cries, " Is he gone ! 'tis time he fliou'd.
< * * * * * i8t
* 185
# * * .>
Now Chartresf, at Sir Robert's J levee,
Tells with a fneer the tidings heavy :
Why if he dy'd without his flioes,
(Cries Bob) I'm forry for the news : 190
* " Mrs. Howard^ then counttfs of Suffolk^ and one of
tie bedchamber to the late queen."
t " Colonel Franc'n ' Chc.rter'n' vihofe cbara&tr may be
fetn in an epitaph -written by Dr. Arbuthnot."
J Sir Robert Walpole, prime minijler, afterward earl of
OrforJ.
ao8 SWIFT;
Oh ! were the wretch but living Hill,
And in his place my good friend Will ! *
Or had a mitre on his head,
Provided Bolingbroke was dead
Now Curl* his (hop from rubbifh drains :
Three genuine tomes of Swift's remains 7
And then, to make them pafs the glibber, '
Revis'd by Tibbalds, Moore, and Gibber, f
He'll treat me as does my betters,
Publilh my will, my life, my letters ; 200
Revive the libels born to die ;
Which Pope muft bear, as well as I.
Here fhift the fcene to reprefent
How thofe I love my death lament.
Poor Pope will grieve a month, and Gay
A week, and Arbuthnot a day. 206
St. John himfelf will fcarce forbear
To bite his pen, and drop a tear.
The reft will give a fhrug, and cry
*' I'm forry, but we all muft die." 210
Indifference clad in wifdom's guife
All fortitude of mind fupplies :
* Mr. Pultcney.
+ " An infamous bookfeller, -who publljled things In tl
dean's name -which be nei/er wrote."
i. See their cbaraSlers In the Dune lad.
SWIFT. 209
For how can ftony bowels melt
In thofe, who never pity felt ?
When we are lamt, they kifs'd the rod,
Refigning to the will of God. 216
The fools, my j uniors by a year,
Are tortur'd with fufpence and fear ;
Who wifely thought my age a fcreen,
When death approacht, to ftand between ;
The fcreen remov'd, their hearts are trembling ;
They mourn for me without difTembling.
My female friends, whofe tender hearts
Have better learn'd to aft their parts,
Receive the news in doleful dumps : 225
" The dean is dead (pray, what is trumps?)
" Then, Lord have mercy on his foul.
" (Ladies, I'll venture for the vole.)
' Six deans, they fay, muft bear the pall.
" (I wifh I knew what king to call.) 230
" Madam, your hufband will attend
" The fun'ral of fo good a friend.
" No, madam, 'tis a mocking fight;
" And he's engag'd to-morrow night :
" My lady Club wou'd take it ill 235
" If he mould fail at her quadrill.
" He lov'd the dean, (I lead a heart)
" But dearefl friends, they fay, muft part.
" His time was come ; he ran his race ;
" We hope he's in a better place." 240
VOL. I. O
210 SWIFT.
Why do we grieve that friends fliould dye ?
No lofs more eafy to fupply.
One year is pail ; a different fcene !
No further mention of the dean,
Who now, alas, no more is mift, 245
Than if he never did exift.
Where's now the favourite of Apollo ?
Departed : And his works muft follow,
Muft undergo the common fate ;
His kind of wit is out of date. 250
Some country 'fquire to Lintot * goes,
Inquires for Swift in verfe and profe.
Says Lintot, " I have heard the name ;
" He dy'd a year ago. The fame."
He fearches all the mop in vain : 255
" Sir, you may find them in Duck -lane f ;
" I fent them, with a load of books,
' Laft Monday, to the paltry-cooks*
" To fancy they could live a year !
" I find you're but a ftranger here. 260
" The dean was famous in his time,
" And had a kind of knack at rhime :
" His way of writing now is paft :
" The town has got a better tafte.
* " Bernard Lintot, a bookfellrr. See Pope's Dwclad and
Letters."
+ AJlreet vihtve old books "were formerly fold.
SWIFT. 21*
* I keep no antiquated ftuft ; 265
' But fpick and fpan I have enough.
" Pray, do but give me leave to mew 'em.
" Here's Colley Gibber's birth-day poem.
" This ode you never yet have feen
" By Stephen Duck * upon the queen. 270-
" Then here's a letter finely pen'd
" Againft the Craftfman and his friend :
" It clearly (hews, that all reflection
" On minifters is difaffeftion.
" Next, here's fir Robert's vindication, 275
" And Mr. Henley's f laft oration.
*' The hawkers have not got them yet ;
" Your honour pleafe to buy a fett ?"
Suppofe me dead ; and then fuppofe
A club aflembled at the Rofe ; 280
Where, from difcourfe of this and that,
I grow the fubjedl of their chat.
The dean, if we believe report>
Was never ill receiv'd at court.
Altho', ironically grave, 285
He fliam'd the fool and lafti'd the knave.
" Sir, I have heard another ftory ;
" He was a moft confounded tory,
* A miferable poet ( 'originally a tbatcberj patronifed by
tie court.
t Cemmoniy called Orator Henley, a fort of cltrical bujfr.tn.
O a
12 SWIFT.
" And grew, or he is much bely'd,
" Etremely dull before he dy'd. 299
Can we the drapier e'er forget ?
Is not our nation in his debt ?
'Twas he that writ the Drafter's letters.
" He fhould have left them for his betters ;
' We had a hundred abler men, 295
" Nor need depend upon his pen.-
Say what you will about his reading,
" You never can defend his breeding :
*' Who, in his fatyrs running riot,
" Could never leave the world in quiet ;
" Attacking, when he took the whim, 301
" Court, city, camp ; all one to him.
" But why wou'd he, except he flobber'd,
" Offend our patriot, great fir Robert ?
" Whofe councils aid the fov 'reign pow'r
" To fave the nation ev'ry hour. 306
" What fcenes of evil he unravels
" In fatyrs, libels, lying travels !
" Not fparing his own clergy-cloth,
" But eats into it like a moth 1" 310
Perhaps I may allow the dean
Had too much fatyr in his vein,
And feem'd determin'd not to Itarve it,
Becaufe no age could more deferve it.
Vice, if it e'er can be abafh'd 315
Mull be or ridicul'd or lafh'd.
SWIFT. 213
If you refent it, who's to blame ?
He neither knew you nor your name.
Should vice expeft to 'fcape rebuke,
Becaufe its owner is a duke ? 320
His friendihips, ftill to few confin'd,
"Were always of the midling kind ;
No fools of rank, or mongrel breed,
Who fain wou'd pafs for lords indeed ;
Where titles gave no right or power, 325
And peerage is a wither 'd flower.
He would have deem'd it a difgrace
Jf fuch a wretch had known his face.
He never thought an honour done him,
Becaufe a peer was proud to own him ; 330
Would rather flip afide, and choofe
To talk with wits in dirty (hoes ;
And fcorn the tools with ftars and garters
So often feen carefling Chartres.
He kept with princes due decorum, 335
Yet never flood in awe before 'em j
But follow'd David's leflbn juft;
In princes never put his truft : *
And, would you make him truly four,
Provoke him with a flave in pow'r. 340
* Alas, poor dean ! his only fcope
Was to be held a mifanthrope.
" This into gen'ral odium drew him ;
" Which, if he lik'd, much good may do him.
3
H4 SWIFT.
" His zeal was not to lafh our crimes, 345
" But difcontent againfl the times :
" For, had we made him timely offers
" To raife his poft or fill his coffers,
" Perhaps he might have truckled down,
" Like other brethren of his gown. 350
" For party he would fcarce have bled :
" I fay no more , becaufe he's dead.
" What writings has he left behind?"
I hear they're of a diff 'rent kind :
A few, in verfe ; but moft, in profe. 355
" Some high-flown pamphlets, I fuppofe :
" All fcribbled in the worft of times,
" To palliate his friend Oxford's crimes,
" To praife queen Anne, nay more, defend her,
" As never fav'ring the pretender : 360
" Or libels yet conceal'd from fight,
" Againft the court to mew his fpight :
** Perhaps his travels, part the third;
" A lye at ev'ry fecond word
" Offenfive to a loyal ear : 365
' But not one fermon, you may fwear."
As for his works, in verfe or profe,
I own myfelf no judge of thofe.;
Nor can I tell what criticks thought 'em ;
But this I know, all people bought 'em; 370
As with a moral view defign'd,
To pleafe and to reform mankind :
SWIFT. 215
And, if he often mifs'd his aim, -
The world muft own it, to their mame, (
The praife is his, and theirs the blame. J
He gave the little wealth he had 376
To build a houfe for fools and mad ;
To (hew, by one fatyric touch,
No nation wanted it fo much.
And, fmce you dread no farther lafhes, 380
Methinks you may forgive his afhes.
A LETTER FROM ITALY,
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
CHARLES LORD HALIFAX.
IN THE YEAR MDCCI.
BY JOSEPH ADDISON,
Salve magna par ens frugum Saturnia tellus,
Magna <virum ! tibi res antiqua: laudis & artis
Aggredior, fanttos aufas recluderef antes.
VIRG. Georg. 2.
W H i L E you, my Lord, the rural fhades admire,
And from Britannia's public polls retire,
Nor longer, her ungrateful fons to pleafe,
For their advantage facrifice your eafe ;
Me into foreign realms my fate conveys, 5
Through nations fruitful of immortal lays,
Where the foft feafon and inviting clime
Confpire to trouble your repofe with rhime.
* Born 1671; dyed ii\i
ADDISON. 217
For wherefoe'er I turn my ravifiVd eyes,
Gay gilded fcenes and finning profpefts rife, 10
Poetic fields incompafs me around,
And ilill I feem to tread on claflic ground ;
For here the Mufe fo oft her harp has ftrung,
That not a mountain rears its head unfung ;
Renown'd in verfe each fliady thicket grows, 15
And ev'ry dream in heav'nly numbers flows.
How am I pleas'd to fearch the hills and woods,
For rifing fprings and celebrated floods !
To iew the Nar, tumultuous in his courfe,
And trace the fmooth Clitumnus to his fource, 20
To fee the Mincio draw his watry (tore,
Through the long windings of a fruitful more.
And hoary Albula's infeded tide
O'er the warm bed of fmoking fulphur glide.
Fir'd with a thoufand raptures I furvey 25
Eridanus through flow'ry meadows ftray,
The king of floods ! that rolling o'er the plains
The tow'ring Alps of half their moifture drains,
And proudly fwoln with a whole winter's fnows,
Diftributes wealth and plenty where he flows. 30
Sometimes, mifguided by the tuneful throng,
I look for ftreams immortal iz'd in fong,
That loft in filence and oblivion lie,
(Dumb are their fountains, and their channels dry)
Yet run for ever by the Mule's fkill, 35
And in the fmooth defcription murmur ftill.
2l8 A D D ISO N.
Sometimes to gentle Tiber I retire,
And the fam'd river's empty mores admire,
That deflitute of ftrength derives its courfe
From thrifty urns and an unfruitful fource ; 40
Yet fung fo often in poetic lays,
With fcorn the Danube and the Nile furveys ;
So high the deathlefs Mufe exalts her theme !
Such was the Boyn, a poor inglorious ilream,
That in Hibernian vales obfcurely ftray'd, 45
And unobferv'd in wild meanders play'd ;
'Till by your lines and Naflku's fword renow^'d,
Its riling billows through the world refound,
Where'er the hero's godlike als can pierce,
Or where the fame of an immortal verfe. 50
Oh cou'd the Mufe my ravilh'd breaft infpire
With warmth like yours, and raife an equal fire,
Unnumber'd beauties in my verfe fhou'd mine,
And Virgil's Italy fhou'd yield to mine 1
See how the golden groves around me frnile,
That fhun the coaft of Britain's ftormy ifle, 56
Or when tranfplanted and preferv'd with care,
Curfe the cold clime, and ftarve in northern air."
Here kindly warmth their mounting juice ferments
To nobler taftes, and more exalted fcents : 60
Ev'n the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom,
And troden weeds fend out a rich perfume.
Bear me, fome god, to Baia's gentle feats,
Or cover me in Umbria's green retreats ;
ADDISON. 219
Where weftern gales eternally refide,
And all the feafons laviih all their pride : 66
Blofibms, and fruits, and flowers together rife,
And the whole year in gay confufion lies.
Immortal glories in my mind revive,
And in my foul a thoufand paffions ftrive, 70
When Rome's exalted beauties I defcry
Magnificent in piles of ruine lie.
An amphitheater's amazing height
Here fills my eye with terror and delight,
That on its public mows unpeopled Rome, 75
And held uncrovvded nations in its womb :
Here pillars rough with fculpture pierce the ikies ;
And here the proud triumphal arches rife,
Where the old Romans deathlefs afts difplay'd,
Their bafe degenerate progeny upbraid : 80
Whole rivers here forfake the fields below,
And wond'ring at their height through airy chan-
nels flow.
Still to new fcenes my wand'ring Mufe retires ;
And the dumb fhow of breathing rocks admires ;
Where the fmooth chifel all its force has mown,
And foften'd into flefh the rugged Hone. 86
In folemn filence, a majeftic band,
Heroes, and gods, and Roman confuls ftand,
Stern tyrants, whom their cruelties renown,
And emperors in Parian marble frown ; 90
220 ADDISON.
While the bright dames, to whom they humbly fu'd,
Still mow the charms that their proud hearts fubdu'd.
Fain would I Raphael's godlike art rehearfe,
And mow th' immortal labours in my verfe,
Where from the mingled ftrcngth of made and light
A new creation rifes to my fight, 96
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with lite his blended colours glow.
From theme to theme with fecret pleafure toft,
Amidft the foft variety I'm loft : io&
Here pleafing airs my raviftit foul confound
With circling notes and labyrinths of found ;
Here domes and temples rife in diftant views,
And opening palaces invite my Mufe.
How has kind heav'n adorn'd the happy land.
And fcatter'd bleflings with a wafteful hand !
But what avail her unexhaufted ftcres,
Her blooming mountains, and her funny mores.
With all the gifts that heav'n and earth impart,
The fmiles of nature, and the charms of art, no
While proud Oppreflion in her valleys reigns,
And Tyranny ufurps her happy plains ?
The poor inhabitant beholds in vain
The red'ning orange and the fwelling grain :
Joylefs he fees the growing oils and wines, 115
And in the myrtle's fragrant {hade repines :
Starves, in the midit of nature's bounty curft,
And in the loaden vineyard dies for thirft.
A D D 1 S ON. 221
Oh Liberty, thon goddefs heav'nly bright,
Profufe of blifs, and pregnant with delight ! 120
Eternal pleafures in thy prefence reign,
And fmiling Plenty leads thy wanton train ;
Eas'd of her load Subjection grows more light,
And Poverty looks chearful in thy fight ;
Thou mak'ft the gloomy face of Nature gay, 125
Giv'ft beauty to the fun, and pleafure to the day.
Thee, goddefs, thee, Britannia's ifle adores;
How has (he oft exhaufted all her ftores,
How oft in fields of death thy prefence fought,
Nor thinks the mighty prize too dearly bought !
On foreign mountains may the fun refine 131
The grape's foft juice, and mellow it to wine,
With citron groves adorn a diftant foil,
And the fat olive fwell with floods of oil :
We envy not the warmer clime, that lies 145*
In ten degrees of more indulgent fkies,
Nor at the coarfenefs of our heav'n repine,
Tho' o'er our heads the frozen Pleiads fhine :
'Tis Liberty that crown's Britannia's ifle,
And makes her barren rocks and her bleak moun-
tains fmile.
Others with tow'ring piles may pleafe the fight.
And in their proud afpiring domes delight ;
A nicer touch to the ftretcht canvas give,
Or teach their animated rocks to live :
221 A D D I S O N .
'Tis Britain's care to watch o'er Europe's fate,'
And hold in balance each contending flate, 146
To threaten bold prefumptuous kings with war,
And anfwer her affli&ed neighbour's pray'r.
The Dane and Swede, rous'd up by fierce alarms,
Blefs the wife conduft of her pious arms : 150
Soon as her fleets appear, their terrors ceafe,
And all the northern world lies hum'd in peace.
Th' ambitious Gaul beholds with fecret dread
Her thunder aim'd at his afpiring head,
And fain her godlike fons would difunite 155
By foreign gold or by domeftic fpite :
But ftrives in vain to conquer or divide,
Whom NafTau's arms defend and counfels guide.
Fir'd with the name, which I fo oft have found
The diftant climes and diff'rent tongues refound,
I bridle in my ftruggling Mufe with pain,
That longs to lanch into a bolder ftrain.
But I've already troubled you too long,
Nor dare attempt a more advent'rous fong.
My humble verfe demands a fofter theme, 165
A painted meadow, or a purling ftream ;
Unfit for heroes ; whom immortal lays,
And lines like Virgil's, or like yours, fhou'd praife.
TO HIS PERJUR'D MISTRESS.
FROM HORACE.
Nox eratj & caelofulgebat lunafereno, &c.
BY THOMAS YALDEN, D. D,*
IT was one evening, when the rifing moon
Amidft her train of ftars diftinftly (hone ;
Serene and calm was the inviting night,
And heav'n appear'd in all its luftre bright;
When you, Nezra, you, my perjur'd fair,
Did, to abufe the gods and me prepare.
'Twas then you fwore, remember, faithlefs maid,
With what indearing arts you then betray'd :
Remember all the tender things that paft,
When round my neck your willing arms were caft ;
The circling ivys when with oaks they join, 1 1
Saem loofe, and coy, to thofe fond arms of thine.
Believe, you cry'd, this folemn vow believe,
The nobleft pledge that love and I can give ;
Or if there's ought more facred here below, 15
Let that confirm my oath to heav'n and you.
* Barn 1671 ; dyed 4756.
224- Y A L D E N.
If e'er my breaft a guilty flame receives,
Or covets joys, but what thy prefence gives }
May ev'ry injur'd pow'r afiert thy caufe,
And Love avenge his violated laws : 20
While cruel beafts of prey infeft the plain,
And tempefts rage upon the faithlefs main :
While fighs and tears mail liftning virgins move,
So long, ye powers, will fond Neasra love.
Ah faithlefs charmer, lovely perjur'd maid !
Are thus my vows, and generous flame repaid ?
Repeated flights I have too tamely bore,
Still doated on, and ftill been wrong'd the more.
Why do 1 liften to that Syren's voice,
Love ev'n thy crimes, and fly to guilty joys ! 30
Thy fatal eyes my belt refolves betray,
My fury melts in foft defires away :
Each look, each glarfce, for all thy crimes attone,
Elude my rage, and I'm again undone.
But if my injur'd foul dares yet be brave, 35
Unlefs I'm fond of fhame, confirm'd a flave,
I will be deaf to that enchanting tongue,
Nor on thy beauties gaze away my wrong.
At length I'll loath each proitituted grace,
Nor court the leavings of a cloy'd embrace ; 40
But fliow, with manly rage, my foul's above
The cold returns of thy exhaufted love.
Then thou flialt juftly mourn at my 'difdain,
Find all thy arts, and all thy charms in vain :
Y A L D E N. 225
Shalt mourn, whilft I, with nobler flames, purfue
Some nymph as fair, tho' not unjuft, as you ;
Whofe wit, and beauty, Jhall like thine excel,
But far furpafs in truth, and losing well.
But wretched thou, who-e'er my rival art,
That fondly boafls an empire o'er her heart ; 50
Thou that enjoy 'ft the fair inconftant prize,
And vainly triumph'ft with my victories ;
Unenvy'd now, o'er all her beauties rove,
Enjoy thy ruin, and Neaera's love :
Tho' wealth and honours grace thy nobler birth,
To bribe her love, and fix a wand'ring faith ; 56
Tho' ev'ry grace, and ev'ry virtue join,
T' inrich thy mind, and make thy form divine ;
Yet bleft with endlefs charms, too foon you'll prove
The treacheries of falfe Neaera's love. 60
Loft, and abandon'd by th' ungrateful fair,
Like me you'll love, be injur'd, and defpair.
When left th' unhappy objeft of her fcorn, -\
Then mail I fmile to fee the vi&or mourn, I
Laugh at thy fate, and triumph in my turn. J
VOL. I.
TO A CANDLE.
ELEGY.
BY WILLIAM CONGREVE, E S O^.*
THOU watchful taper, by whofe filent light
I lonely pafs the melancholly night ;
Thou faithful witnefs of my fecret pain,
To whom alone I venture to complain ;
O learn with me, my hopelefs love to moan ; 5
Commiferate a life fo like thy own.
Like thine, my flames to my deftruftion turn,
Wafting that heart by which fupply'd they burn.
Like thine, my joy and fufferirig they difplay ;
At once are figns of life, and fymptoms of decay.
And as thy fearful flames the day decline, 1 1
And only during night prefume to fhine j
Their humble rays not daring to afpire
Before the fun, the fountain of their fire :
So mine, with confcious fhame, and equal awe,
To fhades obfcure and folitude withdraw ; 16
Nor dare their light before her eyes difclofe,
From whofe bright beams their being firft arofc.
* Bern i6;a ; dyed 1729.
HORACE, BOOK II. DDK IV. IMITATED.
THE LORD GRIFFIN TO THK
EARL OF SCARSDALE.
BY NICHOLAS ROWE, E S O^
POST LAURIAT.*
I.
JL/o not, moft fragrant earl, difclaim
Thy bright, thy reputable flame,
To Bracegirdle the brown ;
But publickly efpoufe the dame>
And fay G d the town. 5
II.
Full many heroes, fierce and keen,
With drabs have deeply fmitten been,
Although right good commanders ;
Some who with you have Hounflow feen,
And fome who've been in Flanders. 10
Bern 1673; dyed 1718.
P a
128 ROWE*
III.
Did not bafe Greber's Pegg * inflame
The fober earl of Nottingham,
Of fober fire defcended ?
That carelefs of his foul and fame,
To play-houfes he nightly came, 1 5
And left church undefended.
IV.
The monarch who of France is hight,
Who rules the roft with matchlefs might,
Since William went to heaven ;
Loves Maintenon, his lady bright, 20
Who was but Scarron's leaving.
V.
Tho' thy dear's father kept an inn,
At grifly head of Saracen,
For carriers at Northampton ;
Yet (he might come of gentler kin, 25
Than e'er that father dreamt on.
VI.
Of proffers large her choice had me,
Of jewels, plate, and land in fee,
Which me with fcorn rejected :
And can a nymph fo virtuous be 30
Of bafe-born blood fufpefted?
* Signiora ' Francefca Margarcta' de 1'Epinc,' an Italian,
fongftrcfs.
ROWE. 229
VII.
Her dimple cheek, and roguifh eye,
Her {lender wafte, and taper thigh,
I always thought provoking ;
But, faith, tho' I talk waggilhly, 35
I mean no more than joking.
VIII.
Then be not jealous, friend, for why ?
My lady marchionefs is nigh,
To fee I ne'er {hall hurt ye ;
Befides, you know full well, that I 40
Am turn'd of fivc-and-forty.
THE INDIAN PHILOSOPHER.
BY ISAAC WATTS, D. D.*
[TO MR. HENRY BENDYSH.]
I.
Vv H Y fhould our joys transform to pain ?
Why gentle Hymen's filken chain
A plague of iron prove ?
Bendyfh, 'tis ftrange the chain that binds
Millions of hands, mould leave their minds
At fuch a loofe from love. 6
II.
In vain I fought the wondrous caufe,
Rang'd the wide field of nature's laws,
And urg'd the fchools in vain ;
Then deep in thought, within my breaft 10
My foul retir'd, and {lumber drefs'd
A bright inftruftive fcene.
* Born 1674; dyed 1748.
WATTS. 231
III.
O'er the broad lands, and crofs the tide,
On fancy's airy horfe I ride,
(Sweet rapture of the mind !) 15
Till on the banks of Ganges flood,
In a tall ancient grove I flood
For facred .ufe defign'd.
IV.
Hard by, a venerable prieft,
Ris'n with his god, the fun, from reft, 20
Awoke his morning fong ;
Thrice he conjur'd the murm'ring ftream ;
The birth of fouls was all his theme,
And half divine his tongue.
V.
He fang " th' eternal rolling .flame, 25
" That vital mafs, that ftill the fame
" Does all our minds compofe :
" But fhap'd in twice ten thoufand frames ;
." Thence difPring fouls of diff'ring names,
" And jarring tempers rofe. 30
VI.
" The mighty power that form'd the mind
" One mould for every two defign'd,
" And blefs'd the new-born pair :
" Tbit be a match for this: (he faid)
" Then down he fent the fouls he made, 35
" To feek them bodies here :
P4
3* WATTS.
VII.
*' But parting from their warm abode
" They loft their fellows on the road,
" And never join'd their hands :
" Ah cruel chance, and croffing fates ! 40
" Our Eaftern fouls have dropt their mates
" On Europe's barbarous lands.
VIII.
" Happy the youth that finds the bride
' Whofe birth is to his own ally'd,
" The fvveeteft joy of life : 45
" But oh the crowds of wretched fouls
" Fetter'd to minds of different moulds,
' And chain'd t' eternal ftrife."
IX.
Thus fang the wond'rous Indian bard ;
lyiy foul with vaft attention heard, 50
While Ganges ceas'd to flow :
" Sure then (I cry'd) might I but fee
ft That gentle nymph that twinn'd with me,
" I may be happy too.
X.
" Some courteous angel, tell me where, 55
" What diftant lands this unknown fair,
" Or diftant feas detain ?
" Swift as the wheel of nature rolls
'< I'd fly, to meet, and mingle fouls,
** And wear the joyful cliain." 60
PASTORAL.
BY AMBROSE PHILIPS.*
GERON, HOBBINOL, LANQUET.
GERON.
How ftill the fea behold ! how calm the fky !
And how, in fportive chace, the fwallows fly !
My goats, fecure from harm, fmall tendance need,
While high, on yonder hanging rock, they feed :
And, here below, the banky fhore along, 5
Your heifers graze. Now, then, to drive in fong
Prepare. As eldeft, Hobbinol begin ; .
And Lanquet's rival-verfe, by turns, come in,
HOBBINOL.
Let others ftake what chofen pledge they will,
Or kid, or lamb, or mazer wrought with fkill :
For praife we fing, nor wager ought befide ; 1 1
And, whofe the praife, let Geron's lips decide.
LANQJTET.
To Geron I my voice, and fkill, commend,
A candid umpire, and to both a friend.
* Born 1674; dytd 1749.
234 A. PHILIPS.
Begin then, boys ; and vary well your fong :
Begin ; nor fear, from Geron's fentence, wrong,
A boxen hautboy, loud, and fweet of found,
All varnifh'd, and with brazen ringlets bound,
I to the vidlor give : no mean reward,
If to the ruder village-pipes compar'd. 20
BOBBIN OL.
The fnows are melted ; and the kindly rain
Defcends on every herb, and every grain :
Soft balmy breezes breathe along the fky ;
The bloomy feafon of the year is nigh.
LANQJJET.
The cuckoo calls aloud his wandering love ; 25
The turtle's moan is heard in every grove ;
The paftures change ; the warbling linnets fmg :
Prepare to welcome in the gaudy fpring.
HOBBINOL.
When locufts, in the ferny bufhes, cry,
When ravens pant, and fnakes in caverns lie, 30
Graze then in woods, and quit the fhadelefs plain,
Elfe fhall ye prefs the fpungy teat in vain.
When greens to yellow vary, and ye fee
The ground beftrew'd with fruits of every tree,
A. PHILIPS. 235
.And ftormy winds are heard, think winter near,
Nor truft too far to the declining year.
HOBEINOL.
Woe, then, alack ! befall the fpendthrift fwain,
When froft, and fnow, and hail, and fleet, and rain,
By turns chaftife him, while, through little care,
His flieep, unftielter'd, pine in nipping air. 40
LANO^UET.
The lad of forecafl then untroubled fees
The white-bleak plains, and filvery frofted trees :
He fends his flock, and, clad in homely frize,
In his warm cott the wintery blaft defies.
HOBBINOL.
Full fain, O blefs'd Eliza ! would I praife 45
Thy maiden-rule, and Albion's golden days :
Then gentle Sidney liv'd, the fhepherd's friend.
Eternal bleffings on his ftiade attend.
LANQJJET.
Thrice happy fhepherds now ! for Dorfet loves
The country-mufe, and our refounding groves,
While Anna reigns : O, ever may (he reign ! 51
And bring, on earth, the golden age again.
HOBBINOL.
I love, in fecret all, a beauteous maid,
And have my love, in fecret all, repaid ;
236 A. PHILIPS.
This coming night ihe plights her troth to me :
Divine her name, and thou the viftor be. 56
LANQJJET.
Mild as the lamb, unharmful as the dove,
True as the turtle, is the maid I love :
How we in fecret love, I fhall not fay :
Divine her name, and I give up the day. 60
HOBBINOL.
Soft on a cowflip-bank my love and I
Together lay ; a brook ran murmuring by :
A thoufand tender things to me fhe faid ;
And I a thoufand tender things repaid.
LANQJJET.
In fummer-fhade, behind the cocking hay, 65
What kind endearing words did fhe not fay J
Her lap, with apron deck'd, (he fondly fpread,
And ftrok'd my cheek, and lull'd my leaning head.
HOBBINOL.
Breathe foft, ye winds ; ye waters, gently flow ;
Shield her, ye trees ; ye flowers, around her grow :
Ye fwains, I beg you, pafs in filence by ; 71
My love, in yonder vale, afleep dees lie.
LANQJ7ET.
Once Delia flept on eafy mofs reclin'd,
Her lovely limbs half bare, and rude the wind :
A. PHILIPS. 237
I fmooth'd her coats, and ftole a filent kifs : 7 5
Condemn me, Ihepherds, if I did amifs.
HOBBINOL.
As Marian bath'd, by chance I patted by ;
She blufh'd, and at me caft a fidelong eye :
Then, cowering in the treacherous ftream, fhe try'd
Her tempting form, yet ftill in vain, to hide. 80
As I, to cool me, bath'd one fultry day,
Fond Lydia, lurking, in the fedges lay :
The wanton laugh'd, and feem'd in hafte to fly,
Yet oft fhe ftopt, and oft fhe turn'd her eye.
HOBBINOL.
When firft I faw, would I had never feen, 85
Young Lyfet lead the dance on yonder green,
Intent upon her beauties, as fhe mov'd,
Poor heedlefs wretch ! at unawares I lov'd.
LANQUET.
When Lucy decks with flowers her fwelling breaft,
And on her elbow leans, difTembling reft, 90
Unable to refrain my madding mind,
Nor herds, nor paflurc, worth my care I find.
H O B B I N O L .
Come Rofalind, O come ! for, wanting thec,
Our peopled vale a defert is to me.
238 A. PHILIPS.
Come, Rofalind, O come ! My brinded kintf,
My fnowy (heep, my farm, and all, are thine.
LANQUET.
Come, Rofalind, O come ! Here fhady bowers/
Here are cool fountains, and here fpringing flowers,
Come, Rofalind ! Here ever let us ftay,
And fweetly wafte the live-long time away. 100
HOBBINOL.
In vain the feafons of the moon I know,
The force of healing herbs, and where they grow :
No herb there is, no feafon, to remove
From my fond heart the racking pains of love.
LANQUET.
What profits me, that I in charms have fkill,
And ghofts, and goblins, order as I will, ic6
Yet have, with all my charms, no power to lay
The fprite that breaks my quiet night and day ?
HOBBINOL.
O, that, like Colin, I had fkill in rhimes,
To purchafe credit with fucceeding times ! 1 1 o
Sweet Colin Clout ! who never, yet, had peer ;
Who fung through all the feafons of the year.
LANQJJET.
Let me, like Merlin, fing : his voice had power
To free the 'clipfing moon at midnight hour :
A. PH ILIPS. 239
And, as he" fung, the fairies with their queen,
In mantles blue, came tripping o'er the green.
HOBBINOL.
Laft eve of May did I not hear them fing,
And fee their dance ? And I can fhevv the ring,
Where, hand in hand, they fhift their feet fo light :
The grafs fprings greener from their tread by night.
LANQJJET.
But haft thou feen their king, in rich array,
Fam'd Oberon, with damafk'd robe fo gay,
And gemmy crown, by moonmine fparkling far,
And azure fcepter, pointed with a ftar ?
Here end your pleafing ftrife. Both viftors are ;
And both with Colin may, in rhyme, compare.
A boxen hautboy, loud, and fweet of found,
All varnifh'd, and with brazen ringlets bound,
To each I give. A mizling mift defcends
Adown that fteepy rock : and this way tends 130
Yon diftant rain. Shoreward the vefTels ftrive ;
And, fee, the boys their flocks to fhelter drive.
240 A. PHILIPS.
TO THE EARL OF DORSET.
BY THE SAME.
Copenhagen, March g, 1 709.
FROM frozen climes, and endlefs trafts of fnow.
From ftreams which northern winds forbid to flow,
What prefent ihall the mufe to Dorfet bring,
Or how, fo neay the pole, attempt to fing ?
The hoary winter here conceals from fight 5
All pleafing objects which to verfe invite.
The hills, and dales, and the delightful woods,
The flow'ry plains, and filver-flreaming floods,
By fnow difguis'd, in bright confufion lie,
And with one dazzling wafte fatigue the eye. 10
No gentle breathing breeze prepares the fpring,
No birds within the deiert region fing.
The (hips, unmov'd, the boift'rous winds defy,
While rattling chariots o'er the ocean fly.
The vaft Leviathan wants room to play, 15
And fpout his waters in the face of day.
The ftarving wolves along the main fea prowl,
And to the moon in icy valleys howl.
O'er many a mining league the level main
Here fpreads itfelf into a glafly plain. 20
There folid billows of enormous fize,
Alps of green ice, in wild diforder rife.
A PHILIPS. 24F
And yet but lately have I feen, ev'n here,
The winter in a lovely drefs appear.
Ere yet the clouds let fall the treafur'd fnow, 25
Or winds begun through hazy fkies to blow,
At ev'ning a keen eaftern breeze arofe,
And the defcending rain unfully'd froze.
Soon as the filent (hades of night withdrew,
The ruddy morn difclos'd at once to view 30
The face of nature in a rich difguife,
And brighten'd ev'ry object to my eyes :
For ev'ry {hrub, and ev'ry blade of grafs,
And ev'ry pointed thorn, feem'd wrought in glafs j
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns fhow, 35
While through the ice the crimfon berries glow.
The thick-fprung reeds, which watry marfhes yield,
Seeffi'd polifh'd lances in a hoftile field.
The flag, in limpid currents, with furprize,
Sees cryftal branches on his forehead rife : 40
The fpreading oak, the beech, and tow'ring pine,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing asther mine.
The frighted birds the rattling branches mun,
Which wave and glitter in the diftant fun.
When if a fudden guft of wind arife, 45
The brittle foreft into atoms flies,
The crackling wood beneath the tempeft bends,
And in a fpangled fhow'r the profpeft ends ;
Or, if a fouthern gale the region warm,
And by degrees unbind the wintry charm, 50
VOL. I. O
24-2 A. PHILIPS.
The traveller a miry country fees,
And journeys fad beneath the dropping trees :
Like fome deluded peafant, Merlin leads
Thro' fragrant bow'rs, and thro' delicious meads,
While here inchanted gardens to him rife, 55.
And airy fabricks there attract his eyes,
His wand'ring feet the magick paths purfue,
And, while he thinks the fair illufion true,
The tracklefs fcenes difperfe in fluid air,
And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear,
A tedious road the weary wretch returns,
And, as he goes, the tranfient vifion mourns.
TO SIGNORA CUZZONI,
BY THE SAME.
May 25, 1724.
LITTLE Siren of the ftage,
Charmer of an idle age,
Empty warbler, breathing lyre,
Wanton gale of fond defire,
A. PHILIPS.
Bane of every manly art, 5
Sweet enfeebler of the heart,
O, too pleafing in thy flrain,
Hence, to fouthern climes again ;
Tuneful mifchief, vocal fpell,
To this ifland bid farewel ; 10
Leave us as we ought to be,
Leave the Britons rough and free.
243
THE
SPLENDID SHILLING.
AN IMITATION OF MILTON.
BY JOHN PHILIPS.*
Sing , heavenly Muft,
Things unattempted yet, in profe or rbime,
AJbilling, breeches, and chimeras dire.
HAPPY the man, who, void of cares and ftrife,
In filken or in leathern purfe retains
A Splendid Shilling : he nor hears with pain
New oyfters cry'd, nor fighs for chearful ale ;
But with his friends, when nightly mifts arife, 5
To Juniper's-Magpye, or Town-Hall repairs :
Where, mindful of the nymph, whofe wanton eye
Transfix'd his foul, and kindled amorous flames,
Chloe, or Phillis, he each circling glafs
Wiflieth her health, and joy, and equal love. 10
Meanwhile, he fmoaks, and laughs at merry tale,
Or pun ambiguous, or conundrum quaint.
* Born 1676; dyed 1708.
J. PHILIPS. 24.5
But I, whom griping penury furrounds,
And hunger, fure attendant upon want,
With fcanty offals, and fmall acid tiff 1 5
(Wretched repaft !) my meagre corps fuftain;
Then folitary walk, or doze at home
In garret vile, and with a warming puff
Regale chill'd fingers ; or from tube as black
As winter-chimney, or well-polifh'd jet, 20
Exhale mundungus, ill-perfuming fcent ;
Not blacker tube, nor of a fhorter fize,
Smokes Cambro-Britain (vers'd in pedigree)
Sprung from Cadwalader and Arthur, kings
Full famous in romantick tale) when he 25
O'er many a craggy hill and barren cliff,
Upon a cargo of fam'd Ceflrian cheefe,
High over-fhadowing rides, with a defign
To vend his wares, or at th' Arvonian marte,
Or Maridunum, or the ancient town 30
Yclip'd Brechinia, or where Vaga's ftream
Encircles Ariconium, fruitful foil !
Whence flow neftareous wines, that well may vie
With Maffic, Setin, or renown'd Falern.
Thus while my joylefs minutes tedious flow, 3 5
With looks demure, and filent pace, a Dun,
Horrible monfler ! hated by gods and men,
To my aerial citadel afcends,
With vocal heel thrice thund'ring at my gate,
With hideous accent thrice he calls ; I know 40
246 J. PHILIPS.
The voice ill-boding, and the folemn found.
What ihould I do ? or whither turn ? Amaz'd,
^Confounded, to the dark recefs I fly
Of wood-hole ; ftrait my briftling hairs ereft
Thro' fudden fear ; a chilly fweat bedews 45
My fliud'ring limbs, and (wonderful to tell ! )
My tongue forgets her faculty of fpeech ;
So horrible he feems ! His faded brow
Entrench'd with many a frown, and conic beard,
And fpreading band, admir'd by modern faints,
Difaftrous adls forebode ; in his right hand
Long fcrolls of paper folemnly he waves,
With characters and figures dire infcrib'd,
Grievous to mortal eyes ; (ye gods, avert
Such plagues from righteous men!) Behind him
ftalks
Another monfter, not unlike himfelf,
Sullen of afpedl, by the vulgar call'd
A Catchpole, whofe polluted hands the gods
With force incredible, and magick charms,
Erft have endu'd : if he his ample palm 60
Should haply on ill-fated moulder lay
Of debtor, ftrait his body to the touch
Obfequious, (as whilom knights were wont)
To fome inchanted caftle is convey'd,
Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains,
In durance ftrifl detain him, till, in form 66
Of money, Pallas fets the captive free.
J. PHILIPS. 247
Beware, ye debtors, when ye walk, beware,
Be circumfpe& ; oft with infidious ken
The caitiff eyes your fteps aloof, and oft 70
Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave,
Prompt to inchant fome inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets fing)
Grimalkin, to domeftick vermin fworn
An everlafting foe, with watchful eye 75
Lies nightly brooding o'er a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtlefs mice
Sure ruin. So her difembowell'd web
Arachne, in a hall or kitchin, fpreads
Obvious to vagrant flies : me fecret ftands 80
Within her woven cell ; the humming prey,
Regardlefs of their fate, rum on the toils
Inextricable, nor will aught avail
Their arts, or arms, or fhapes of lovely hue ;
The wafp infidious, and the buzzing drone, 85
And butterfly proud of expanded wings
Diftinft with gold, entangled in her fnares
Ufelefs refillance make : with eager ftrides
She tow'ring flies to her expected fpoils ;
Then, with en venom 'd jaws, the vital blood 90
Drinks of reludtant foes, and to her cave
Their bulky carcafles triumphant drags.
So pafs my days. But, when noflurnal lhade*
This world invelop, and th' inclement air
CU
248 J. PHILIPS.
Perfuades men to repel benumming frofts 95
With pleafant wines, and crackling blaze of wood ;
Me, lonely fitting, nor the glimmering light
Of make-weight candle, nor the joyous talk
Of loving friend, delights ; diftrefs'd, forlorn,
Amidft the horrors of the tedious night, 100
Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal thoughts
My anxious mind ; or fometimes mournful verfe
Indite, and fmg of groves and myrtle fhades,
Or defperate lady near a purling ftream,
Or lover pendant on a willow-tree. 105
Meanwhile I labour with eternal drought,
And reftlefs wim, and rave ; my parched throat
Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repofe :
But if a flumber haply does invade
My weary limbs, my fancy's ftill awake, 1 10
Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a dream,
Tipples imaginary pots of ale,
In vain ; awake I find the fettled thirft
Still gnawing, and the pleafant phantom curfe.
Thus do I live, from pleafure quite debarr'd,
Nor tafte the fruits that the fun's genial rays
Mature, John-apple, nor the downy peach,
Nor walnut in rough -furrow'd coat fecure,
Nor medlar-fruit, delicious in decay :
AfiHftions great ! yet greater ftill remain : 120
My galligafluns, that have long withftood
The winter's fury, and incroaching frofts,
J . PHILIPS. 24.9
By time fubdu'd (what will not time fubdue !)
An horrid chafm difclofe, with orifice
Wide, difcontinuous ; at which the winds 125
Eurus and Aufter, and the dreadful force
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian waves,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling blafts,
Portending agues. Thus a well-fraught fhip,
Long fail'd fecure, or thro' th'^Egean deep,
Or the Ionian, till cruifmg near 131
The Lilybean more, with hideous crufli,
On Scylla, or Charybdis (dang'rous rocks !)
She ftrikes rebounding ; whence the fhatter'd oak,
So fierce a Ihock unable to withfland, 135
Admits the fea ; in at the gaping fide
The crowding waves gum with impetuous rage,
Refiftlefs, overwhelming ; horrors feize
The mariners ; death in their eyes appears,
They flare, they lave, they pump, they fwear, they
pray:
(Vain efforts !) ftill the battering waves rufh in.
Implacable, till, delug'd by the foam,
The fhip finks found'ring in the vaft abyfs.
TO A PAINTER.
BY JOHN HUGHES, E S Q^*
PAINTER, if thou canft fafely gaze
On all the wonders of that face ;
If thou haft charms to guard a heart
Secure by fecrets of thy art ;
O 1 teach the mighty charm, that we 5
May gaze fecurely too, like thee.
Canft thou Love's brighteft light'ning draw,
Which none e'er yet unwounded faw ?
To what then wilt thou next afpire,
Unlefs to imitate Jove's fire ? 10
Which is a lefs advent'rous pride,
Though 'twas for that Salmoneus dy'd.
That beauteous, that victorious fair,
Whofe chains fo many lovers wear ;
Who with a look can arts infufe, j 5
Create a painter, or a mufe ;
Whom crouds with awful rapture view ;
She fits ferene, and fmiles on you !
Your genius thus infpir'd will foar
To wondrous heights unknown before, 20
* Born 1677; dyed 17*9.
HUGHES. 251
And to her beauty you will own
Your future fkill and fix'd renown.
So when of old great Ammon's fon,
Adorn'd with fpoils in battle won,
In graceful picture chofe to Hand, 25
The work of fam'd Apelles' hand ;
" Exert thy fire, the monarch faid,
Now be thy boldeft ftrokes difplay'd,
" To let admiring nations fee
" Their dreaded viftor drawn by thee ; 30
" To others thou mayft life impart,
" But I'll immortalize thy art !"
THE PEACH-STONE.
BY GEORGE JEFFREYS,
W HERE healing fprings, by Aftrop plac'd,
Their watry ftores fupply,
A peach-ftone yields the wine as fail,
And fills the glafs as high.
Such magic in that prize is found, 5
By bright Maria taught
To fpeed the chearful brimmer round,
And confecrate the draught.
Blefs'd by thofe lips, whofe touch divine
Might wailing life repair ; 10
To neftar it converts the wine,
To gladnefs ev'ry care.
Give me that balm to eafe my pain,
My cordial when I faint ;
And let the relique ftill remain, 15
To witnefs for the faint.
Born 1678; dyed 17 5$.
THE HERMIT.
BY THOMAS PARNELL, D.D.
ARCHDEACON OF CLOGHER.*
FAR in a wild, unknown to publick view,
From youth to age a rev'rend Hermit grew ;
The mofs his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the chryftal well :
Remote from men, with God he pafs'd the days,
Pray'r all his bus'nefs, all his pleafure praife. 6
A life fo facred, fuch ferene repofe,
Seem'd heav'n itfelf, till one fuggeftion rofe ;
That vice fliou'd triumph, virtue vice obey,
This fprung fome doubt of Providence's fway :
His hopes no more a certain profpeft boaft, 1 1
And all the tenour of his foul is loft :
So when a fmooth expanfe receives impreft
Calm nature's image on its wat'ry breaft,
Down bend the banks, the trees depending grow,
And Ikies beneath with anfwering colours glow :
But if a ftone the gentle fcene divide,
Swift ruffling circles curl on ev'ry fide,
And glimmering fragments of a broken fun,
Banks, trees, and flues, in thick diforder run. zo
* Born 1679 5 fyed t;il.
254 P A R N E L L .
To clear this doubt, to know the world by fight,
To find if books, or fwains, report it right,
(For yet by fwains alone the world he knew,
Whofe feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly dew)
He quits his cell ; the pilgrim-ftaff he bore, 25
And fix'd the fcallop in his hat before ;
Then with the fun a rifmg journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each event.
The morn was wafted in the pathlefs grafs,
And long and lonefome was the wild to pafs ; 30
But when the Southern fun had warm'd the day,
A youth came polling o'er a croffing way !
His rayment decent, his complexion fair,
And foft in graceful ringlets wav'd his hair.
Then near approaching, Father, hail ! he cry'd,
And hail, my fon, the rev'rend fire reply 'd ; 36
Words followed words, from queftion anfwer flow'd,
And talk of various kind deceiv'd the road ;
Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their age they differ, join in heart. 40
Thus {lands an aged elm in ivy bound,
Thus youthful ivy clafps an elm around.
Now funk the fun ; the clofing hour of day
Came onward, mantled o'er with fober gray ;
Nature in filence bid the world repofe ; 45
When near the road a ftately palace rofe :
There by the moon thro' ranks of trees they pafs,
Whofe verdure crown'd their floping fides of grafs.
PAR NELL. 255
It chanc't the noble matter of the dome
Still made his houfe the wand'ring Granger's home :
Yet ftill the kindnefs, from a third of praife, 5 1
Prov'd the vain flourifti of expenfive eafe.
The pair arrive : the liv'ry'd fervants wait ;
Their lord receives them at the pompous gate.
The table groans with coftly piles of food, 55
And all is more than hofpitably good.
Then led to reft, the day's long toil they drown :
Deep funk in fleep, and filk, and heaps of down.
At length 'tis morn, and at the dawn of day,
Along the wide canals the Zephyrs play : 60
Frefli o'er the gay parterres the breezes creep,
And (hake the neighb'ring wood to banifh fleep.
Up rife the guefts, obedient to the call :
An early banquet deck'd the fplendid hall ;
Rich lufcious wine a golden goblet grac't, 65
Which the kind matter forc'd the guefts to tafte.
Then, pleas'd and thankful, from the porch they go j
And, but the landlord, none had caufe of woe ;
His cup was vanifh'd ; for in fecret guife
The younger gueft purloin'd the glittering prize.
As one who 'fpys a ferpent in his way, 71
Gliftning and bafking in the fummer ray,
Diforder'd ftops to fhun the danger near,
Then walks with faintnefs on, and looks with fear ;
So feem'd the fire ; when far upon the road, 75
The mining fpoil his wiley partner fhow'd.
256 P A R N E L L
He ftopp'd with filence, walk'd with trembling heart,
And much he wifti'd, but durft not aflc to part :
Murm'ring he lifts his eyes, and thinks it hard,
That generous aflions meet a bafe reward. 80
While thus they pafs, the fun his glory fhrouds,
The changing fkies hang out their fable clouds ;
A found in air prefag'd approaching rain,
And beafts to covert feud acrofs the plain.
Warn'd by the figns, the wand'ring pair retreat,
To feek for fhelter at a neighb'ring feat. 86
'Twas built with turrets, on a rifing ground,
And ftrong, and large, and unimprov'd around ;
Its owner's temper, tim'rous and fevere,
Unkind and griping, caus'd a defert there. QO
As near the Mifer's heavy doors they drew,
Fierce rifing gufts wkh fudden fury blew ;
The nimble lightning mix'd with fhow'rs began,
And o'er their heads loud- rolling thunder ran.
Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain,
Driv'n by the wind, and battered by the rain.
At length fome pity warm'd the matter's breaft,
('Twas then his threfhold firft receiv'd a gueft) ;
Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care,
And half he welcomes in the fhivering pair ; 100
One frugal faggot lights the naked walls,
And nature's fervor thro' their limbs recals :
Bread of the courfeft fort, with eager wine,
(Each hardly granted) ferv'd them both to dine ;
PARNELL* 257
And when the tempeft firft appear 'd to ceafe, 105
A ready warning bid them part in peace.
With ftill remark the pond'ring Hermit view'd,
In one fo rich, a life fo poor and rude ;
And why mould fuch (within himfelf he cry'd,)
Lock the loft wealth a thoufand want befide ? no
But what new marks of wonder foon took place,
In ev'ry fettling feature of his face,
When from his veil the young companion bore
That cup, the generous landlord own'd before,
And paid profufely with the precious bowl 115
The flinted kindnefs of this churlifh foul
But now the clouds in airy tumult fly ;
The fun emerging opes an azure flcy ;
A frefher green the fmelling leaves difplay,
And, glitt'ring as they tremble, cheer the day :
The weather courts them from the poor retreat,
And the glad mafter bolts the wary gate.
While hence they walk, the Pilgrim's bofom
wrought
With all the travel of uncertain thought ;
His partner's afts without their caufe appear, 125
'Twas there a vice, and feem'd a madnefs here :
Detefling that, and pitying this, he goes,
Loft and confounded with the various (hows.
Now night's dim (hades again involve the (ky,-j
Again the wand'rers want a place to lye, I
Again they fearch, and find a lodging nigh. J
VOL. I. R
258 P A R NE L L.
The foil improv'd around, the manfion neat.
And neither poorly low, nor idly great :
It feem'd to fpeak its mailer's turn of mind,
Content, and not for praife, but virtue, kind. 135
Hither the walkers turn with weary feet,
Then blefs the manfion, and the matter greet :
Their greeting fair beflow'd, with modeft guife,
The courteous matter hears, and thus replies :
Without a vain, without a yielding heart, 140
To him who gives us all, I yield a part ;
From him you come, for him accept you here,
A frank and fober, more than coftly cheer :
He fpoke, and bid the welcome table fpread,
Then talk'd of virtue till the time of bed, 145
When the grave houfhold round his hall repair,
Warn'd by a bell, and dofe the hours with pray'r.
At length the world, renew'd by calm repofe,
Was ftrong for toil ; the dappled morn arofe ;
Before the pilgrims part, the younger crept, 150-
Near the clos'd cradle where an infant flept,
And writh'd his neck : the landlord's little pride,
O ftrange return ! grew black, and gafp'dj and dy'd.
Horrour of horrours ! what ! his only fon !
How look'd our Hermit when the fact was done ?
Not hell, tho' hell's black jaws in funder part,
And breathe blue fire, cou'd more aflault his heart..
Confus'd, and ftruck with filence at the deed,
He flies, but trembling fails to fly with fpeed.
PAR NELL* 259
His fteps the youth purfues ; the country lay 160
Perplex'd with roads, a fervant fhow'd the way :
A river crofs'd the path ; the paffage o'er
Was nice to find ; the fervant trod before ;
Long arms of oaks an open bridge fupply'd,
And deep the waves beneath the bending glide*
The youth, who feem'd to watch a time to fin,
Approach'd the carelefs guide, and thruft him in ;
Plunging he falls, and rifing lifts his head,
Then flafhing turns, and fmks among the dead.
Wild, fparkling rage inflames the father's eyes,
He burfts the bands of fear, and madly cries,
Detefted wretch But fcarce his fpeech began,
When the ftrange partner feem'd no longer man :
His youthful face grew more ferenely fweet ;
His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet ;
Fair rounds of radiant points inveft his hair ; 176
Celeftial odours breathe thro' purpled air ;
And wings, whofe colours glitter'd on the day,
Wide at his back their gradual plumes difplay.
The form etherial burfts upon his fight, 1 8d
And moves in all the majefty of light.
Though loud at firft the pilgrim's paflion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wilt not what to do ;
Surprize in fecret chains his words fufpends,
And in a calm his fettling temper ends. 185
But filence here the beauteous Angel broke
(The voice of mufic ravim'd as he fpoke).
R ^
26d P A R M E L L .
Thy pray'r, thy praife, thy life to vice unknown,
In fweet memorial rife before the throne :
Thefe charms, fuccefs in our bright region find,
And force an angel down, to calm thy mind. 191
For this, commiffion'd, I forfook the fky,
Nay, ceafe to kneel Thy fellow fervant I.
Then know the truth of government divina,
And let thefe fcruples be no longer thine. 1 95
The maker juftly claims that world he made,
In this the right of providence is laid ;
Its facred majefty thro' all depends,
On ufmg fecond means to work his ends :
'Tis thus, withdrawn in ftate from human eye,
The pow'r exerts his attributes on high, 201
Your aftions ufes, not controuls your will,
And bids the doubting fons of men be {till.
What ftrange events can ftrike with more furprize,
Than thofe which lately ftrook thy wond'ring eyes ?
Yet, taught by thefe, confefs th' almighty juft,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to truft !
The Great, Vain Man, who far'd on coilly food,
Whofe life was too luxurious to be good ;
Who made his iv'ry {lands with goblets mine,
And forc'd his guefts to morning draughts of wine,
Has, with the Cup, the gracelefs cuftom loft,
And ftill he welcomes, but with lefs of coft.
The mean, fufpicious Wretch, whofe bolted door
Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wand'ring poor ; 215
PAR NELL. 26l
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That heav'n can blefs, if mortals will be kind :
Confcious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels companion touch his grateful foul.
Thus artifts melt the fullen ore of lead, 220
With heaping coals of fire upon its head j
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And loofe from drofs the filver runs below.
Long had our Pious Friend in virtue trod,
But now the child half wean'd his heart from God ;
(Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain, 226
And meafur'd back his fteps to earth again.
To what excefles had his dotage run ?
But God, to fave the father, took the fon.
To all but thee, in fits he feem'd to go 230
(And 'twas my miniftry to deal the blow).
The poor fond parent, humbled in the duft,
Now owns in tears the punimment was juft.
But how had all his fortune felt a wrack,
Had that falfe Servant fped in fafety back ! 235
This night his treafur'd heaps he meant to fteal,
And what a fund of charity would fail !
Thus Heaven inftrufts thy mind : This tryal o'er,
Depart in peace, refign, and fin no more.
On founding pinions here the youth withdrew,
The Sage flood wond'ring as the Seraph flew. 241
Thus look'd Eljlha when, to mount on high,
His matter took the chariot of the flcy ;
R3
262 P A R N E L L .
The fiery pomp afcending left the view ;
The prophet gaz'd, and wifh'd to follow too. 24.5
The bending Hermit here a pray'r begun,
Lord! as in heaven, on earth thy ivill be done:
Then, gladly turning, fought his antient place,
And pafs'd a life of piety and peace.*
A FAIRY TALE.
IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STILE.
BY THE SAME.
I N Britain's ifle, and Arthur's days,
When midnight faeries daunc'd the maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green ;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,
Endow'd with courage, fenfe and truth, 5
Though badly fhap'd he been.
* The fable of this elegant, but furely immoral, poem it
not the ini/entlon of Dr. Parnell, ivbo bad it, in all pro-,
lability, from Mores Dialogues. It is a produ&ion of the
darker ages, and makes the eightyetb chapter of the Gefta
Romanotum.
P A R N E L L. 263
His mountain back mote well be faid,
To meafure heighth againft his head,
And lift itfelf above ;
Yej, fpite of all that Nature did 10
To make his uncouth form forbid,
This creature dar'd to love.
He felt the force of Edith's eyes,
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,
Cou'd ladies look within ; i 5
But one Sir Topaz drefs'd with art,
And, if a fliape could win a heart,
He had a fhape to win.
Edwin (if right I read my fong)
With flighted paffion pac'd along 20
All in the moony light ;
'Twas near an old enchaunted court,
Where fportive faeries made refort
To revel out the night.
His heart was drear, his hope was crofs'd,
'Twas late, 'twas farr, the path was loft
That reach'd the neighbour-town ;
With weary fteps he quits the {hades,
Refolv'd the darkling dome he treads,
And drops his limbs adown. 30
264 P A R N E L L .
But fcant he lays him on the floor,
When hollow winds remove die door,
A trembling rocks the ground :
And (well I ween, to count aright)
At once an hundred tapers light 35
On all the walls around.
Now founding tongues afiail his ear,
Now founding feet approachen near,
And now the founds increafe :
And from the corner where he lay 40
He fees a train profufely gay
Come pranckling o'er the place.
But (truft me, gentles ! ) never yet
Was dight a mafquing half fo neat,
Or half fo rich before ; 45
The country lent the fweet perfumes,
The fea the pearl, the fky the plumes,
The town its filken ftore.
Now whilft he gaz'd, a gallant dreft
In flaunting robes above the reft, 50
With awfull accent cry'd ;
What mortal of a wretched mind,
Whofe fighs infeft the balmy wind,
Has here prefum'd to hide ?
P A R N E L L . 265
At this the fwain, whofe vent'rous foul 55
No fears of magic could controul,
Advanc'd in open fight ;
*' Nor have I caufe of dreed, he faid,
" Who view, by no prefumption led,
" Your revels of the night. 60
" Twas grief, for fcorn of faithful love.
" Which made my fteps unweeting rove
" Amid the nightly dew."
'Tis well, the gallant crys again,
We faeries never injure men 65
Who dare to tell us true*
Exalt thy love-deje&ed heart,
Be mine the talk, or e'er we part
To make thee grief refign ;
Now take the pleafure of thy chaunce ; 70
Whilft I with Mab, my part'ner daunce,
Be little Mable thine.
He fpoke, and all a fudden there
Light mufick floats in wanton air ;
The monarch leads the queen : 75
The reft their faerie part'ners found ;
And Mable trimly tript the ground
With Edwin of the Green.
66 P A R N E L L .
The dauncing paft, the board was laid,
And fiker fuch a feaft was made 80
As heart and lip defire ;
Withouten hands the difhes fly,
The glafles with a wi(h come nigh,
And with a wifh retire.
But, now to pleafe the faerie king, 85
Full ev'ry deal they laugh and fing,
And antick feats devife ;
Some wind and tumble like an ape,
And other-fome tranfinute their fhape,
In Edwin's wond'ring eyes. 90
Till one at laft, that Robin hight,
(Renown'd for pinching maids by night)
Has hent him up aloof;
And full againft the beam he flung,
Where by the back the youth he hung, 95
To fpraul unneath the roof.
From thence, " Reverfe my charm," he crys,
' And let it fairly now fuffice
" The gambol has been mown."
But Oberon anfwers with a finile, ico
Content thee Edwin for a while,
The vantage is thine own.
P A R NE L L. 267
Here ended all the phantome-play ;
They fmelt the frefh approach of day,
And heard a cock to crow ; 105
The whirling wind that bore the crowd
Has clap'd the door, and whittled loud
To warn them all to go.
Then fcreaming all at once, they fly,
And all at once the tapers dy ; no
Poor Edwin falls to floor ;
Forlorn his ftate, and dark the place,
Was never wight in fike a cafe
Through all the land before.
But foon as Dan Apollo rofe, 115
Full jolly creature home he goes,
He feels his back the lefs ;
His honeft tongue and fteady mind
Had rid him of the lump behind,
Which made him want fuccefs. 1 20
With lufty livelyhed he talks,
He feems a dauncing as he walks,
His ftory foon took wind ;
And beauteous Edith fees the youth
Endow'd with courage, fenfe, and truth, 125
Without a bunch behind.
268 P A R N E L L.
The ftory told, Sir Topaz mov'd,
(The youth of Edith erft approv'd)
To fee the revel fcene :
At clofe of eve he leaves his home, 130
And wends to find the ruin'd dome
All on the gloomy plain.
As there he bides, it fo befell,
The wind came ruftling down a dell,
A making feiz'd the wall; 135
Up fpring the tapers as before,
The faeries bragly foot the floor,
And mufick fills the hall.
But certes forely funk with woe
Sir Topaz fees the elphin mow, 140
His fpirits in him dy :
When Oberon crys, " A man is near,
" A mortal paffion, deeped fear,
" Hangs flagging in the flcy."
With that Sir Topaz (haplefs youth I) 145
In accents fault'ring, ay for ruth,
Intreats them pity graunt ;
For als he been a mifler wight
Betray'd by wand'ring in the night
To tread the circled haunt : 150
P A R N E L L . 269
" Ah lofell vile, at once they roar ;
" And little fkill'd of faerie lore,
" Thy caufe to come, we know :
" Now has thy keilrell courage fell ;
" And faeries, fince a ly you tdl> 155
" Are free to work thee woe."
Then Will, who bears the wifpy fire
To trail the fwains among the mire,
The caitive upward flung ;
There, like a tortoife in a (hop, 1 60
He dangled from the chamber-top,
Where whilome Edwin hung.
The revel now proceeds apace,
Deftly' they fri/k it o'er the place,
They fit, they drink, and eat; 165
The time with frolick mirth beguile,
And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while,
Till all the rout retreat.
By this the ftarrs began to wink,
They mriek, they fly, the tapers fink, 170
And down y-drops the knight :
For never fpell by faerie laid
With ftrong enchantment bound a glade
Beyond the length of night.
f. 164. Deflly.
270 PAR NELL.
Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, 175
Till up the welkin rofe the day,
Then deem'd the dole was o'er :
But wot ye well his harder lot ?
His feely back the bunch had got
Which Edwin loft afore. 180
This tale a Sybil-nurfe ared ;
She foftly ftrok'd my youngling head,
And when the tale was done,
" Thus fome are bcrn, my fon (me cries)
" With bafe impediments to rife, 185
" And fome are born with none.
" But virtue can itfelf advance
" To what the fav'rite fools of chance
" By fortune feem'd defign'd ;
" Virtue can gain the odds of fate, 190
" And from itfelf make off the weight
" Upon th' unworthy mind."
RONALD AND DORNA;
*Y A HIGHLANDER, TO HIS MISTRESS.
FROM A LITERAL TRANSLATION
OF THE ORIGINAL.
BY AARON HILL, E S Q^*
I.
CIOME, let us climb Skorr-urran's fnowy top;
Cold, as it feems, it is lefs cold than you :
Thin, thro' its mow, thefe lambs its heath-twigs crop ;
Your fnovv, more hoftile, ftarves, and freezes, too.
II.
What, tho' I lov'd, of late, in Skey's fair ifle, 5
And blufh'd and bow'd and ihrunk from
Kenza's eye !
All, fiie had pow'r to hurt with, was her fmile ;
But 'tis a frown of yours, for which I die.
III.
Afk, why thefe herds, beneath us, rum, fo faft,
On the brown fea-ware's ftranded heaps, to feed *
Winter, like you, with-holds their wifh'd repaft,
And, robb'd of genial grafs, theybrouze on weed.
Born 1684; dyed 1749.
^74 HILL*
IV.
Mark, with what tuneful hafte Sheleila flows,
To mix its wid'ning ftream in Donnan's lake !
Yet fhould fome dam the current's courfe oppofe,
It muft, per-force, a lefs-lov'd paflage take. 16
V.
Born, like your body, for a fpirit's claim,
Trembling, I wait, unfoul'd, till you infpire :
God has prepar'd the lamp, and bids it flame,
But you, fair Dorna, have with-held the fire.
VI.
High, as yon pine, when you begin to fpeak,
My light'ning heart leaps, hopeful, at the found,
But, fainting at the fenfe, falls, void, and weak,
And finks, and faddens, like yon mofly ground.
VII.
All that I tafte, or touch, or fee, or hear, 25
Nature's whole breadth reminds me but of you :
Ev'n heav'n itfelf would your fweet likenefs wear,
If, with its pow'r, you had its mercy too.
HILL. 273
THE MESSENGER.
BY THE SAME.
Go, happy paper! gently fteal,
And, foft, beneath her pillow, lie :
There, in a dream, my love reveal,
A love, that awe muft, elfe, conceal,
In filent doubt, to die. 5
Should fhe, to flames, thy hope confign,
Thy fuff'ring moment foon expires ;
A longer pain, alas ! is mine,
Condemn'd, in endlefs woe, to pine,
And feel unflack'ning fires. 10
But, if inclin'd to hear, and blefs,
While, in her heart, foft pity ftirs ;
Tell her hr beauties might compel
A hermit to forfake his cell,
And change his heav'n for hers. 15
Oh ! tell her were her treafures mine,
Nature and art would court my aid ;
The painter's colours want her mine ;
The rainbow's brow not half fo fine
As her fweet eye-lids made ! 20
VOL. I. S
274 HILL.
By day, the fun might fpare his rays ;
No ftar make ev'ning bright ;
Her op'ning eyes, with fweeter blaze,
Should meafure all my fmiling days,
And, if (he flept, 'twere night.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARl
OF WARWICK.
[ON THE DEATH OF MR* ADDISON. ]
BY THOMAS TICKELL, E S Q^*
1 F, dumb too long, the drooping Mufe hath ftay'd,
And left her debt to Addifon unpaid ;
Blame not her filence, Warwick, but bemoan,
And judge, oh judge, my bofom by your own.
What mourner ever felt poetic fires ! 5
Slow comes the verfe that real woe inlpires :
Grief unaffefted fuits but ill with art,
Or flowing numbers with a bleeding heart,
Can I forget the difmal night, that gave
My foul's beft part for ever to the grave ! to
How filent did his old companions tread,
By mid-night lamps, the manfions of the dead,
Thro' breathing ftatues, then unheeded things,
Thro' rowes of warriors, and thro' walks of kings !
What awe did the flow folemn bell infpire ; 15
The pealing organ, and the paufing choir ;
* Bern 1686; dy ed 1740.
S 2
276 T I C KE L L.
The duties by the lawn-rob'd prelate pay'd ;
And the laft words, that duft to duft convey'd !
While fpeechlefs o'er thy clofing grave we bend,
Accept thefe tears, thou dear departed friend, 20
Oh gone for ever, take this long adieu ;
And fleep in peace, next thy lov'd Montagu.
To ftrew frefh laurels let the taflc be mine,
A frequent pilgrim, at thy facred fhrine,
Mine with true fighs thy abfence to bemoan, 25
And grave with faithful epitaphs thy ftone.
If e'er from me thy lov'd memorial part,
May fhame afflift this alienated heart ;
Of thee forgetful if I form a fong,
My lyre be broken, and untun'd my tongue, 30
My grief be doubled, from thy image free,
And mirth a torment, unchaftis'd by thee.
Oft let me range the gloomy ' idles' alone,
(Sad luxury ! to vulgar minds unknown)
Along the walls where fpeaking marbles mow 35
What worthies form the hallow'd mold below :
Proud names, who once the reins of empire held ;
In arms who triumph'd ; or in arts excell'd ;
Chiefs, grac'd with fears, and prodigal of blood ;
Stern patriots, who for facred freedom flood; 40
Juft men, by whom impartial laws were given ;
And faints, who taught, and led, the way to heav'n.
V. 33. lies.
T 1C KEL L. 277
Ne'er to thefe chambers, where the mighty reft.
Since their foundation, came a nobler gueft,
Nor e'er was to the bow'rs of blifs convey'd 45
A fairer fpirit, or more welcome (hade.
In what new region, to the juft aflign'd,
What new employments pleafe th' unbody'd mind ?
A winged Virtue, through th' ethereal fky,
From world to world unweary'd does he fly, 50
Or curious trace the long laborious maze
Of heav'n's decrees, where wond'ring angels gaze?
Does he delight to hear bold Seraphs tell
How Michael battel'd, and the Dragon fell ?
Or, Tnix'd with milder Cherubim, to glow 55
In hymns of love, not ill-eflay'd below ?
Or doft thou warn poor mortals left behind,
A tafk well fuited to thy gentle mind ?
Oh, if fometimes thy fpotlefs form defcend,
To me thy aid, thou guardian Genius, lend ! 60
When rage mifguides me, or when fear alarms,
When pain diftrefles, or when pleafure charms,
In filent whifp'rings purer thoughts impart,
And turn from 111 a frail and feeble heart ;
Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before, 65
'Till blifs mail join, nor death can part us more.
That awful form (which, fo ye heav'ns decree,
Muft ftill be lov'd and ftill deplor'd by me)
In nightly vtfions feldom fails to rife,
Or, rous'd by fancy, meets my waking eyes. 70
Zfi T I C K E L L .
If bufinefs calls, or crouded courts invite,
Th' unblemifh'd ftatefman feems to ftrike my fight ;
If in the ftage I feek to footh my care,
I meet his foul which breathes in Cato there ;
If penfive to the rural mades I rove, 75
His fhape o'ertakes me in the lonely grove :
'Twas there of Juft and Good he reafon'd ftrong,
Clear'd fome great truth, or rais'd fome ferious fong ;
There patient mow'd us the wife courfe to fleer,
A candid cenfor, and a friend fevere ; 80
There taught us how to live ; and (oh ! too high
The price for knowledge) taught us how to die.
Thou Hill, whofe brow the antique flruftures grace,
Rear'd by bold chiefs of Warwick's noble race,
Why, once fo lov'd, when-e'er thy bower appears,
O'er my dim eye-balls glance the fudden tears !
How fweet were once thy profpefts frefh and fair,
Thy floping walks, and unpolluted air !
How fweet the gloomes beneath thy aged trees,
Thy noon-tide fhadow, and thy evening breeze !
His image thy forfaken bowers reftore ; 91
Thy walks and airy profpefts charm no more.
No more the fummer in thy gloomes allay'd,
Thy evening breezes, and thy noon-day made.
From other ills, however fortune frown'd, 95
Some refuge in the mufe's art I found ;
Reluftant now I touch the trembling firing,
Bereft of him, who taught me how to fing ;
T I C KE L L. 279
And thefe fad accents, murmur'd o'er his urn,
Betray that abfence, they attempt to mourn. 100
Oh ! muft I then (now frefti my bofom bleeds,
And Craggs in death to Addifon fucceeds)
The verfe, begun to one loft friend, prolong,
And weep a fecond in th' unfinifh'd fong !
Thefe works divine, which on his death-bed laid,
To thee, O Craggs, th' expiring Sage convey'd,
Great, but ill-omen'd monument of fame,
Nor he furviv'd to give, nor thou to claim.
Swift after him thy focial fpirit flies,
And clofe to his, how foon ! thy coffin lies. no
Bleft pair ! whofe union future bards fhall tell
In future tongues : each other's boaft ! farewel.
Farewel ! whom join'd in fame, in friendfhip try'd,
No chance could fever, nor the grave divide.
THE FATAL CURIOSITY.
BY THE SAME.
MUCH had I heard of fair Francelia's name,
The lavifti praifes of the babler, Fame :
I thought them fuch, and went prepar'd to pry,
And trace the charmer with a critick's eye,
280 T I C K E L L .
Refolv'd to find fome fault, before unfpy'd, 5
And difappointed, if but fatisfy'd.
Love pierc'd the vaflal heart, that durft rebel,
And, where a judge was meant, a viftim fell :
On thofe dear eyes, with fweet perdition gay,
I gaz'd, at once, my pride and foul away ; i o
All o'er I felt the lufcious poifon run,
And, in a look, the hafty conqueft won.
Thus the fond moth around the taper plays,
And fports and flutters near the treach'rous blaze ;
Ravilh'd with joy, he wings his eager flight, 15
Nor dreams of ruin in fo clear a light ;
He tempts his fate, and courts a glorious doom,
A bright deftruftion, and a mining tomb.
RETIREMENT.
AN ODE.
BY THOMAS WARTON THE ELDER.*
I.
O N beds of daifies idly laid,
The willow waving o'er my head,
Now morning on the bending ftem
Hangs the round, and glittering gem ;
Lull'd by the lapfe of yonder fpring, 5
Of nature's various charms I fmg :
Ambition, pride, and pomp adieu !
For what has Joy to do with you ?
II.
Joy, rofe-lipt Dryad, loves to dwell
In funny field, or mofiy cell, 10
Delights on echoing hills to hear
The reaper's fong, or lowing fteer,
Or view with ten -fold plenty fpread
The crowded corn-field, blooming mead ;
While beauty, health, and innocence,
Tranfport the eye, the foul, the fenfe.
* Born 1687; dyed 1745.
282 T.WARTON THE ELDER.
III.
Not frefco'd roofs, not beds of ftate,
Not guards that round a monarch wait,
Not crowds of flatterers can fcare
From loftieft courts intruding Care : 20
Midft odours, fplendors, banquets, wine,
Whilft minftrels found, while tapers mine,
In fable Hole fad Care will come,
And darken the gay drawing-room.
IV.
Nymphs of the groves, in green array'd,
Conduct me to your thickeft made, 26
Deep in the bofom of the vale,
Where haunts the lonefome nightingale ;
Where Contemplation, maid divine,
Leans againft fome aged pine, 30
Wrapt in ftedfaft thought profound,
Her eyes fix'd ftedfaft on the ground.
V.
O virtue's nurfe ! retired queen,
By faints alone and hermits feen,
Beyond vain mortals' wifhes wife, 35
Teach me St. James's to defpife ;
For what are crowded courts, but fchools
For fops, or hofpitals for fools ?
Where flaves and madmen, young and old,
Meet to adore fome calf of gold.
T,WARTON THE ELDER. 283
A N
INVOCATION
T O A
WATER-NYMPH.
BY THE SAME.
r A i R pearl-crown'd nymph, whofe guftiing torrent
laves
This marble rock with hollow-tinkling waves ;
Who wont'ft in fecret folitude to dwell,
On coral beds beneath thy fapphire cell ;
Whofe virgin-pow'r can break the magic charm,
Whofe look the black enchanter's hand difarm ; 6
Whom fwains in neighb'ring vales to fing delight,
Kind guardian of their flocks from blafting fprite ;
Permit me, goddefs, from thy filver lake,
With cooling draught my glowing thirft to flake !
So, when thou bath'ft, may no rude fatyr's eye,
From fome deep brake, thy naked beauties fpy ;
May no chill blaft the ivied oak invade,
That o'er thy cavern waves his folemn flude.
184- T.WARTON THE ELDER.
A N
AMERICAN LOVE-ODE.
TAKEN FROM THE SECOND VOLUME OF
MONTAGNE'S ESSAYS.
BY THE SAME.
I.
STAY, ftay, thou lovely, fearful fnake,
Nor hide thee in yon darkfome brake :
But let me oft thy charms review,
Thy glittering fcales, and golden hue ;
From thefe a chaplet fhall be wove, 5
To grace the youth I deareft love.
II.
Then ages hence, when thou no more
Shalt creep along the funny fhore,
Thy copy'd beauties fhall be feen ;
Thy red and azure, mix'd with green,
In mimic folds thou fhalt difplay :
Stay, lovely, fearful adder, ftay.
'DAMON.
A PASTORAL/
[WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN.]
BY ALEXANDER POPE, E S O^.*
TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL.
Fi RST in thefe fields I try the fylvan drains,
Nor blufli to fport on Windfor's blifsful plains :
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy facred (pring,
While on thy banks Sicilian Mufes fing ;
Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play, 5
And Albion's clifts rejTound the rural lay.
You that, too wife for pride, too good for pow'r,
Enjoy the glory to be great no more,
And, carrying with you all the world can boaft,
To all the world illuftriously are loft ! 10
O let my Mufe her (lender reed infpire,
Till in your native (hades you tune the lyre :
So when the Nightingale to reft removes,
The Thrufh may chant to the forfaken groves,
But charm'd to filence, liftens while (he fmgs, 15
And all th' aerial audience clap their wings.
Soon as the flocks (hook off the nightly dews,
TwoSwainsjWhomLove kept wakeful, and the Mufe,
* Born 1688; dyed 1744.
286
Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care,
Frefh as the morn, and as the feafon fair : 26
The dawn now blulhing on the mountain's fide,
Thus Daphnis fpoke, and Strephon thus reply'd.
D A p H N i s .
Hear how the birds, on every bloomy fpray,
With joyous mufick wake the dawning day !
Why lit we mute, when early linnets fing, 25
When warbling Philomel falutes the fpring ?
Why fit we fad, when Phofphor mines fo clear,
And la vim Nature paints the purple year ?
STREPHON.
Sing then, and Damon (hall attend the ftrain,
While yon' flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. 30
Here the bright crocus and blue vi'let glow ;
Here weftern winds on breathing rofes blow.
I'll ftake yon' lamb, that near the fountain plays,
And from the brink his dancing made furveys.
DAPHNIS.
And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, 35
And fwelling clufters bend the curling vines :
Four figures rifing from the work appear,
The various feafons of the rolling year ;
And what is that, which binds the radiant flcy,
Where twelve fair figns in beauteous order lie ?
POPE. 287
Then fing by turns, by turns the Mufes fing,
Now hawthorns bloflbm, now the daifies fpring,
Now leaves the trees, and flow'rs adorn the ground;
Begin, the vales mall ev'ry note rebound.
STREPHON.
Infpire me, Phoebus, in my Delia's praife, 45
With Waller's ftrains, or Granville's moving lays i
A milk-white bull ihall at your altars ftand,
That threats a fight, and fpurns the rifing fand.
DAPHNIS.
O Love ! for Sylvia let me gain the prize,
And make my tongue victorious as her eyes ; 50
No lambs or meep for viftims I'll impart,
Thy victim, Love, mail be the fhepherd's heart.
STfcEPHON.
Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain,
Then, hid in (hades, eludes her eager fwain ;
But feigns a laugh, to fee me fearch around, '55
And by that laugh the willing fair is found.
DAPHNIS.
The fprightly Sylvia trips along the green,
She runs, but hopes me does not run unfeen ;
While a kind glance at her purfuer flies,
How much at variance are her feet and eyes ! 6cr
i88 p o P r.
STREPHON.
O'er golden fands let rich Paftolus flow,
And trees weep amber on the banks of Po ;
Bleft Thames's fhores the brighteft beauties yield,
Feed here my lambs, I'll feek no diftant field.
DAPHNIS.
Celeftial Venus haunts Idalia's groves ; 65
Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves ;
If Windfor fhades deliglit the matchlefs maid,
Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windfor-fhade.
STREPHON.
All nature mourns, the Ikies relent in mow'rs,
Hufli'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping flow'rs ;
If Delia fmile, the flow'rs begin to fpring, 7 1
The fkies to brighten, and the birds to fmg.
DAPHNIS.
All nature laughs, the groves are frefh and fair,
The fun's mild luftre warms the vital air ;
If Sylvia fmiles, new glories gild the fhore, 75
And vanquifti'd nature feems to charm no more.
STREPHON.
In fpring the fields, in autumn hills I love,
At morn the plains, at noon the fhady grove,
But Delia always ; abfent from her fight,
Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.
POPE. 289
DAPHNIS.
Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May,
More bright than noon, yet frefh as early day ;
E'en fpring difpleafes, when {he (nines not here ;
But, blefs'd with her, 'tis fpring throughout the year.
STREPHON.
Say, Daphnis, fay, in what glad foil appears,
A wondrous Tree that facred Monarchs bears : 86
Tell me but this, and I'll difclaim the prize,
And give the conqueft to thy Sylvia's eyes.
Nay, tell me firft, in what more happy fields
The Thiftle fprings, to which the Lilly yields : 90
And then a nobler prize I will refign ;
For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, mail be thine.
Ceafe to contend ; for, Daphnis, I decree,
The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee :
Bleft Swains, whofe Nymphs in every grace excel j
Bleft Nymphs,whofe Swains thofe graces fing fo well !
Now rife, and hafte to yonder woodbine bowers,
A foft retreat from fudden vernal Ihowers ;
The turf with rural dainties mall be crown'd,
While op'ning blooms diffufe their fwcets around.
For fee ! the gath'ring flocks to fheltcr tend,
And from the Pleiads fruitful fliow'rs dcfcer.d.
VOL. L T
290 POPE.
TO MRS. M. B. ON HER BIRTH-DAY.
BY THE SAME.
O H be them bleft with all that Heav'n can fend,
LongHealth, long Youth, longPleafure and aFriend :
Not with thofe Toys the female world admire,
Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire.
With added years if Life bring nothing new, 5
But like a fieve let ev'ry bleffing thro',
Some joy ftill loft, as each vain year runs o'er,
And all we gain, fome fad Reflection more ;
Is that a Birth-day ? 'tis alas ! too clear,
Tis but the Fun'ral of the former year. 10
Let Joy or Eafe, let Affluence or Content,
And the gay confcience of a life well fpent,
Calm eVry thought, infpirit ev'ry grace,
Glow in thy heart, and fmile upon thy face ;
Let day improve on day, and year on year, 15
Without a Pain, a Trouble, or a Fear ;
Till Death unfelt that tender frame deftroy,
In fome foft dream, or extafy of joy,
Peaceful fleep out the Sabbath of the Tomb,
And wake to Raptures in a Life to come. 20
POPE. 291
EPISTLE
TO THE SAME.
ON HER LEAVING THE TOWN AFTER THE
CORONATION [1715].
BY THE SAME.
A s fome fond Virgin, whom her mother's care
Drags from the Town to wholefome Country air,
Juft when l"he learns to roll a melting eye,
And hear a fpark, yet think no danger nigh ;
From the dear man unwilling me muft fever ; 5
Yet takes one kifs before me parts for ever :
Thus from the world fair Zephalinda flew,
Saw others happy, and with fighs withdrew ;
Not that their pleafures caus'd her difcontent,
She figh'd, not that they ftay'd, but that me went.
She went to plain-work, and to purling brooks,
Old-famion'd halls, dull Aunts, and croaking rooks :
She went from Op'ra, Park, Aflembly, Play,
To morning-walks, and pray'rs three hours a-day ;
To part her time 'twixt reading and Bohea, 1 5
To mufe, and fpill her folitary tea,
Or o'er cold coffee trifle with the fpoon,
Count the flow clock, and dine exaft at noon ;
T 2
292 POPE.
Divert her eyes with piftures in the fire,
Hum half a tune, tell flories to the fquire ; 20
Up to her godly garret after fev'n,
There ftarve and pray, for that's the way to heav'n.
Some Squire, perhaps, you take delight to rack;
Whofe game is Whiflc, whofe treat a toaft in fack :
Who vifits with a Gun, prefents you birds, 25
Then gives a fmacking bufs, and cries,- - No words !
Or with his hounds comes hallowing from the ftable,
Makes love with nods, and knees beneath a table ;
Whofe laughs are hearty, though his jefts are coarfe,
And loves you beft of all things but his horfe.
In fome fair ev'ning, on your elbow laid, 3 1
You dream of Triumphs in the rural (hade ;
In penlive thought recall the fancy'd fcene,
See Coronations rife on every green ;
Before you pafs th' imaginary fights 3 5
Of Lords, and Earls, and Dukes, and garter'd
Knights,
While the fpread fan o'erfhades your clofing eyes ;
Then give one flirt, and all the vifion flies.
Thus vanifli fceptres, coronets, and balls,
And leave you in lone woods, or empty walls !
So when your Slave, at fome dear idle time,
(Not plagu'd with head-achs,or the want of rhyme)
Stands in the ftreets, abflrafted from the crew,
And while he feems to fludy, tainks of you ;
POPE. 293
Juft when his fancy points your fprightly eyes, 45
Or fees the bluih of foft Parthenia rife,
Gay pats my fhoulder, and you vanifh quite,
Streets, Chairs, and Coxcombs, ruih upon my fight;
Vext to be ftill in town, I knit my brow,
Look four, and hum a Tnne, as you may now. 50
ELEGY
TO THE MEMORY OF
AN UNFORTUNATE YOUNG LADY.*
BY THE SAME.
\YHAT beck'ning ghoft, along the moon-light
made,
Invites my fteps, and points to yonder glade ?
'Tis me ! but why that bleeding bofom gor'd,
Why dimly gleams the vifionary fword ?
* See the Duke of Buckingham's verfes to a Lady dcfign-
ing to retire into a Monaftery, compared with Mr. Pope's
Letters to feveral Ladies, p. 206. She feems to be the fame
perfon whofe unfortunate death is the fubjeft of this pocinj
P.
2Q4 POPE.
Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell, $
Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well ?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To aft a Lover's or a Roman's part ?
Is there no bright reverfion in the Iky,
For thofe who greatly think, or bravely die ? l
Why bade ye elfe, ye Pow'rs ! her foul afpire
Above the vulgar flight of low defire ?
Ambition firft fprung from your bleft abodes ;
The glorious fault of Angels and of Gods :
Thence to their images on earth it flows, 1 5
And in the breafls of Kings and Heroes glows.
Moft fouls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age,
Dull fullen pris'ners in the body's cage :
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years,
Ufelefs, unfeen, as lamps in fepulchres ; 20
Like Eaftern Kings a lazy ftate they keep,
And, clofe confin'd to their own palace, fleep.
From thefe perhaps (ere nature bade her die)
Fate fnatch'd her early to the pitying fky.
As into air the purer fpirits flow, 25
And fep'rate from their kindred dregs below ;
So flew the foul to its congenial place,
Nor left one virtue to redeem her Race.
But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good,
Thou, mean deferter of thy brother's blood ! 30
See on thefe ruby lips the trembling breath,
Thefe cheeks, now fading at the blaft of death ;
POPE. 295
Cold is that breaft which warm'd the world before,
And thofe love-darting eyes muft roll no more.
Thus, if Eternal juftice rules the ball, 35
Thus fhall your wives, and thus your children fall :
On all the line a fudden vengeance waits,
And frequent herfes (hall befiege your gates ;
There paflengers (hall ftand, and pointing fay,
(While the long fun'rals blacken all the way) 40
Lo ! thefe were they, whofe fouls the Furies fteel'd,
And curs'd with hearts unknowing how to yield.
Thus unlamented pafs the proud away,
The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day !
So perifh all, whofe breaft ne'er learn'd to glow
For others good, or melt at others woe. 46
What can atone (oh ever-injur'd made !)
Thy fate unpity'd, and thy rites unpaid ?
No friend's complaint, no kind domeftic tear,
Pleas'd thy pale ghoft, or grac'd thy mournful bier;
By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd, 5 1
By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By ftrangers honour'd, and by ftrangers mourn'd !
What tho' no friends in fable weeds appear, 55
Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year,
And bear about the mockery of woe
To midnight dances, and the public mow ?
What tho' no weeping Loves thy afhes grace,
Nor poliili'd marble emulate thy face ? 60
296 POPE.
What though no facred earth allow thee room,
Nor hallow'd dirge be mutter'd o'er thy tomb ?
Yet {hall thy grave with rifing flow'rs be dreft,
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breaft :
There fhall the morn her earliefl tears beftow, 65
There the firft rofes of the year fhall blow ;
While angels with their filver wings o'erfhade
The ground now facred by thy reliques made.
So, peaceful refts, without a ftone, a name,
What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame.
How lov'd, how honour'd, once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot ;
A heap of dufl alone remains of thee,
'Tis all thou art, and all the proud mail be !
Poets themfelves muft fall, like thofe they fung,
Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Ev'n he, whofe foul now melts in mournful lays,
Shall fhortly want the gen'rous tear he pays ;
Then from his clofing eyes thy form fhall part.
And the laft pang fhall tear thee from his heart,
Life's idle bufinefs at one gafp be o'er, 8 1
The Mufe forgot, and thou belov'd no more '.
POPE. 297
THE FIRST SATIRE OF THE SECOND BOOK
OF HORACE, IMITATED.
BY THE SAME.
TO MR. FORTESCUE.
THERE are (I fcarce can think it, but am told)
There are, to whom my Satire feems too bold :
Scarce to wife Peter complaifant enough,
And fomething faid of Chartres much too rough.
The lines are weak, another's pleas'd to fay, 5
Lord Fanny fpins a thoufand fuch a day.
Tim'rous by nature, of the Rich in awe,
I come to Council learned in the Law ;
You'll give me, like a friend, both fage and free
Advice; and (as you ufe) without a Fee. 10
F. I'd write do more.
P. Not write ? but then I think,
And for my foul I cannot deep a wink ;
I nod in company, I wake at night,
Fools rufli into my head, and fo I write.
F. You could not do a worfe thing for your life.
Why, if the nights feem tedious take a wife :
Or rather truly, if your point be reft,
Lettuce and cowflip-wine ; Probatum eft.
298 POPE.
But talk with Celfus, Celfus will advife
Hartftiorn, or fomething that {hall clofe your eyes.
Or, if you needs muft write, write CJE s AR'S praife,
You'll gain at leaft a Knighthood or the Bays.
P. What ? like Sir Richard, rumbling, rough,
and fierce,
With ARMS, and GEORGE, and BRUNSWICK
crowd the verfe,
Rend with tremendous found your ears afunder,
With Gun, Drum, Trumpet, Blunderbufs, and
Thunder ?
Or nobly -wild, with Budgell's fire and force,
Paint Angels trembling round his falling Horfe ?
F. Then all your Mufe's fofter arts difplay,
Let CAROLINA fmooth the tuneful lay, 30
Lull with AMELIA'S liquid name the Nine,
And fweetly flow thro' all the Royal Line.
P. Alas ! few verfes touch their nicer ear ;
They fcarce can bear their Laureate twice a year ;
And juftly CJESAR fcorns the Poet's lays, 35
It is to Hijlory he trufts .for Praife.
F. Better be Gibber, I'll maintain it ftill,
Than ridicule all Tafte, blafpheme Quadrille,
Abufe the City's beft good men in metre,
And laugh at Peers that put their truft in Peter.
Ev'n thofe you touch not, hate you.
P. What fhoald ail them ?
F. A hundred fmart in fimon and in Balaam :.
POPE. 299
The fewer ftill you name, you wound the more ;
Bond is but one, but Harpax is a fcore.
P. Each mortal has his pleafure : none deny 45
Scarfdale his bottle, Darty his ham-pye ;
Ridotta Tips and dances, till me fee
The doubling Luflres dance as fail as me :
F loves the Senate, Hockley-hole his brother,
Like in all elfe as one egg to another. 50
1 love to pour out all myfelf, as plain
As downright SHIPPEN, or as old Montagne:
In them, as certain to be lov'd as feen,
The Soul flood forth, nor kept a thought within";
In me what fpots (for fpots I have) appear, 55
Will prove at leaft the Medium muft be clear.
In this impartial glafs, my Mufe intends
Fair to expofe myfelf, my foes, my friends ;
Publifli the prefent age ; but when my text
Is Vice too high, referve it for the next : 60
My foes mall wifli my life a longer date,
And ev'ry friend the lefs lament my fate.
My head and heart thus flowing thro' my quill,
Verfe-man or Profe-man, term me which you will,
Papift, or Proteflant, or both between, 65
Like good Erafmus in an honeft mean,
In moderation placing all my glory,
Whilft Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory.
Satire's my weapon, but I'm too difcreet
To run a muck, and filt at all I meet ; 70
300 POPE.
I only wear it in a land of He&ors,
Thieves, Supercargoes, Sharpers, and Directors,
Save but our Army ! and let Jove incruft
Swords, pikes, and gans, with everlafting ruft.
Peace is my dear delight not FLEURY'S more ;
But touch me, and no Minifter fo fore. 76
Whoe'er offends, at fome unlucky time
Slides into verfe, and hitches in a rhyme,
Sacred to Ridicule his whole life long,
And the fad burthen of fome merry fong. 80
Slander or Poifon dread from Delia's rage,
Hard words cr hanging, if your Judge be Page.
From furious Sappho fcarce a milder fate,
P-x'd by her love, or HbelPd by her hate.
Its proper pow'r to hurt, each creature feels ; 85
Bulls aim their horns, and Afles lift their heels ;
"Pis a Bear's talent not to kick but hug ;
And no man wonders he's not ftung by Pug.
So drink with Walters, or with Chartres eat,
They'll never poifon you, they'll only cheat. 90
Then, learned Sir ! (to cut the matter fhort)
Whate'er my fate, or well or ill at Court,
Whether Old age, with faint but chearful ray,
Attends to gild the Ev'ning of my day,
Or Death's black wing already be difplay'd, 95
To wrap me in the univerfal made ;
Whether the darken'd room to mufe invite,
Or whiten'd wall provoke the fkew'r to write ;
POPE. 301
In durance, exile, Bedlam, or the Mint,
Like Lee or Budgell, I will rhyme and print. 100
F. Alas young man ! your days can ne'er be long,
In flow'r of age you perifh for a fong !
Plums and Directors, Shylock and his Wife,
Will club their Tefters, now, to take your life.
P. What? arm'd for Virtue when I point the pen,
Brand the bold front of fhamelefs guilty men;
Dafh the proud Gamcfter in his gilded car ;
Bare the mean Heart that lurks beneath a Star ;
Can there be wanting, to defend Her caufe,
Lights of the Church, or Guardians of the Laws ?
Could penfion'd Boileau lalh in honeft drain 1 1 1
Flatt'rers and Bigots ev'n in Louis' reign ?
Could Laureate Dry den Pimp and Fry'r engage,
Yet neither Charles nor James be in a rage ?
And I not ftrip the gilding off a Knave, 1 1 5
Unplac'd, unpenfion'd, no man's heir, or flave ?
I will, or perifh in the gen'rous caufe ;
Hear this, and tremble ! you, who 'fcape the Laws.
Yes, while I live, no rich or noble knave
Shall walk the world, in credit, to his grave. 1 20
To VIRTUE ONLY and HER FRIENDS A FRIEND,
The World befide may murmur, or commend.
Know, all the dirtant din that world cm keep
Rolls o'er my Grotto, and but fooths my deep.
There, my retreat the belt Companions grace,
Chiefs out of war, and Statefmen out of place.
There ST. JOHN mingles with my friendly bowl
The Feaft of Reafon, and the Flow of Soul :
302 POPE.
And HE*,whofe lightning pierc'd th'Iberian Lines,
Now forms my Quincunx, and now ranks my Vines,
Or tames the Genius of the ftubborn plain, 131
Almoft as quickly as he conquer'd Spain.
Envy muft own, I live among the Great,
No Pimp of pleafure, and no fpy of ftate,
With eyes that pry not, tongue that ne'er repeats,
Fond to fpread friendfhips, but to cover heats ;
To help who want, to forward who excel ;
This, all who know me, know ; who love me, tell ;
And who unknown defame me, let them be
Scribblers or Peers, alike are Mob to me. 140
This is my plea, on this I reft my caufe
What faith my Council, learned in the laws ?
F. Your plea is good ; but ftill I fay, beware !
Laws are explain'd by Men fo have a care.
It Hands on record that in Richard's times 145
A man was hang'd for very honeft rhymes.
Confult the ftatute : quart. I think, it is,
Ed-ivarJifext. or prim, ct quint. Eliz.
See Librls, Satires here you have ir read.
P. Libels and Sat /res! lawlefs things indeed !
But grave Ep ; Jlles, bringing Vice to light, 151
Such as a King might read, a Bifhop write,
Such as Sir ROBERT would approve
F. Indeed?
The Cafe is alter'd you may then proceed ;
In fuch a caufe the Plaintiff will be hifs'd, 155
My Lords the Judges laugh, and you're difmifs'd.
* Earl of Petcrfaraugb.
POPE. 303
A PROLOGUE
TO A PLAY FOR MR. DENNIs's BENEFIT,
IN 1733, WHEN HE WAS OLD, BLIND,
AND IN GREAT DISTRESS, A LIT-
TLE BEFORE HIS DEATH.
BY THE SAME.
A. s when that Hero, who in each Campaign,
Had brav'd the Goth, and many a Vandal flain,
Lay Fortune-ftruck, a fpeftacle of Woe !
Wept by each Friend, forgiv'n by every Foe ;
Was there a gen'rous, a reflecting mind, 5
But pitied BELISARIUS old and blind?
Was there a Chief but melted at the Sight ?
A common Soldier, but who clubb'd his Mite ?
Such, fuch emotions (hould in Britons rife,
When prefs'd by want and weaknefs DENNIS lies ;
Dennis, who long had warr'd with modern Huns,
Their Quibbles routed, and defy'd their Puns ;
A defp'rate fiukvark, flurdy, firm, and fierce
Againft the Gothic ions of frozen verfe :
How chang'd from him who made the boxes groan,
And ihook the ftagc with thunders all his own !
304 POPE.
Stood up to dalh each vain Pretender's hope,
Maul the French Tyrant, or pull down the Pope !
If there's a Briton then, true bred and born,
Who holds Dragoons and wooden fhoes in fcorn ;
If there's a Critic of diftinguifti'd rage ; 21
If there's a Senior, who contemns this age ;
Let him to-night his juft afliftance lend,
And be the Critic's, Briton's, Old Man's Friend.
EPITAPHS.
BY THE SAME.
ON JAMES CRAGGS, ESQ.,
IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.
STATESMAN, yet friend to truth! of foul fmcere,
In adlion faithful, and in honour clear !
Who broke no promife, ferv'd no private end,
Who gain'd no title, and who loft no friend ;
Ennobled by himfelf, by all apprcv'd,
Prais'd, wept, and honour'd by the Mufe he lov'd.
POPE. 305
ON MR. ELIJAH FENTON.
AT EASTHAMSTEAD IN BERKS,
L HIS modeft flone, what few vain marbles can,
May truly fay, Here lies an honed man :
A poet, bleft beyond the poet's fate,
Whom heav'n kept facred from the proud and great :
Foe to loud praife, and friend to learned eafe, 5
Content with fcience in the vale of peace,
Calmly he look'd on either life, and here
Saw nothing to regret, or there to fear ;
From nature's temp'rate feaft rofe fatisfy'd,
Thank'd heav'n that he had liv'd, and that he dy'd.
ON MR. GAY.
IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY, 1732.
O F manners gentle, of affecYions mild,
In wit, a man ; fimplicity, a child :
With native humour temp'ring virtuous rage,
Form'd to delight at once and lafh the age :
VOL. I. U
306 POPE.
Above temptation in a low eftate, 5
And uncorrupted, ev'n among the great :
A fafe companion, and an eafy friend,
Unblam'd through life, lamented in thy end.
Thefe are Thy honours ! not that here thy buft
Is mix'd with heroes, or with kings thy duft j 10
But that the worthy and the good ftiall fay,
Striking their penfive bofoms Here lies GAY.
FABLES.
BY JOHN GAY,
PYTHAGORAS AND THE COUNTRYMAN.
JT YTHAG'RAS rok at early dawn.
By foaring meditation drawn,
To breathe the fragrance of the day,
Through flow'ry fields he took his way;
In mufing contemplation warm, 5
His fteps misled him to a farm,
Where, on a ladder's topmoft round,
A peafant flood ; the hammer's found
Shook the weak barn. Say, friend, what care
Calls for thy honeil labour there ? 10
The clown, with furly voice, replies,
Vengeance aloud for juftice cries :
This kite, by daily rapine fed,
My hen's annoy, my turkey's dread,
At length his forfeit life hath paid; 15
See on the wall his wings difplay'd :
Here nail'd, a terror to his kind,
My fowls mail future fafety find,
* Brn 1688 ; dyed 1732,
U *
308 GAY.
My yard the thriving poultry feed,
And my barn's refufe fat the breed. 2
Friend, fays the fage, the doom is wife ;
For publick good the murd'rer dies :
But if thefe tyrants of the air
Demand a fentence fo fevere,
Think how the glutton man devours ; 25
What bloody feafts regale his hours '.
O impudence of power and might,
Thus to condemn a -hawk or kite,
When thou, perhaps, carniv'rous finner,
Hadft pullets yefterday for dinner ! 30
Hold, cry'd the clown, with paffion heated,
Shall kites and men alike be treated ?
When heav'n the world with creatures ftor'd,
Man was ordain'd their fov'reign lord.
Thus tyrants boaft, the Sage reply 'd, 35
Whofe murders fpring from power and pride.
Own then this manlike kite is flain
Thy greater luxury to fuftain ;
For * petty rogues fubmit to fate
That great ones may enjoy their Jl ate.* 40
Garth'i Difpcnfary.
GAY. 309
THE POET AND THE ROSE.
1 HATE the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.
Thus prudes by characters o'erthrown,
Imagine that they raife their own :
Thus fcribblers, covetous of praife, 5
Think flander can tranfplant the bays.
Beauties and bards have equal pride,
With both all rivals are decry 'd.
Who praifes Lefbia's eyes and feature,
Muft call her fitter awkward creature ; 10
For the kind flatt'ry's fure to charm,
When we fome other nymph difarm.
As in the cool of early day
A Poet fought the fweets of May,
The garden's fragrant treat afcends, 1 5
And ev'ry ftalk with odour bends :
A rofe he pluck'd, he gaz'd, admir'd.
Thus finging, as the Mufe infpir'd.
Go, Rofe, my Chloe's bofom grace :
How happy mould I prove, z
Might I fupply that envy'd place
With never-fading love !
There, phoenix -like, beneath her eye,
Jnvolv'd in fragrance, burn and die !
U
310 GAY.
Know, haplefs flower, that thou fhalt find
More fragrant rofes there ; 26
I fee thy with'ring head redin'd
With envy and defpair !
One common fate we both muft prove ;
You die with envy, I with love !" 30
Spare your comparifons, reply'd
An angry Rofe, who grew befide.
Of all mankind you fhould not flout us ;
What can a poet do without us ?
In ev'ry love-fong rofes bloom ; 35
We lend you colour and perfume.
Does it to Chloe's charms conduce
To found her praife on our abufe ?
Muft we, to flatter her, be made
To wither, envy, pine, and fade ? 30
THE JUGGLERS.
A JUGGLER long through all the town
Had rais'd his fortune and renown ;
You'd think (fo far his art tranfcends)
The devil at his finger's ends.
CAY. 311
Vice heard his fame, flie read his bill ; 5
Convinc'd of his inferior (kill,
She fought his booth, and from the croud
Defy'd the man of art aloud.
Is this then he fo fam'd for flight ?
Can this flow bungler cheat your fight ? 10
Dares he with me difpute the prize ?
I leave it to impartial eyes.
Provok'd, the Juggler cry'd, 'tis done ;
In fcience I fubmit to none.
Thus faid. The cups and balls he play'd ; 1 5
By turns, this here, that there, convey'd : .
The cards, obedient to his words,
Are by a fillip turn'd to birds ;
His little boxes change the grain,
Trick after trick deludes the train. 20
He (hakes his bag, he (hews all fair,
His fingers fpread, and nothing there,
Then bids it rain with (howers of gold,
And now his iv'ry eggs are told,
But, when from thence the hen he draws., 25
Amaz'd fpeftators hum applaufe.
Vice now (tept forth, and took the place,
With all the forms of his grimace.
This magick looking-glafs, (he cries,
(There, hand it round) will charm your eyes.
Each eager eye the fight defir'd, 3 1
And ev'ry man himfelf admir'd.
U 4
312 GAY.
Next, to a fenator addreffing,
See this bank-note ; obferve the bleffing :
Breathe on the bill. Heigh, pafs ! 'Tis gone.
Upon his lips a padlock (hone. 36
A fecond puff the magick broke ;
The padlock vanifh'd, and he fpoke.
Twelve bottles rang'd upon the board
All- full, with heady liquor ftor'd, 40
By clean conveyance difappear,
And now two bloody fwords are there.
A purfe (he to a thief expos'd ;
At once his ready fingers clos'd ;
He opes his fift, the treafure's fled ; 45
He fees a halter in its ftead.
She bids Ambition hold a wand :
He grafps a hatchet in his hand.
A box of charity fhe (hows,
Blow here ; and a church-warden blows ;
'Tis vanifh'd with conveyance neat, 5 1
And on the table fmokes a treat.
She (hakes the dice, the board (he knocks,
And from all pockets fills her box.
She next a meagre rake addreil 55
This pidture fee ; her fliape, her breaft !
What youth, and what inviting eyes !
Hold her, and have her ! With furprife,
His hand expos'd a box of pills,
And a loud laugh proclaim'd his ills. 60
GAY. 313
A counter, in a mifer's hand,
Grew twenty guineas at command ;
She bids his heir the fum retain,
And 'tis a counter now again.
A guinea with her touch you fee 65
Take ev'ry ihape but charity ;
And not one thing you faw, or drew,
But chang'd from what was firft in view.
The juggler now, in grief of heart,
With this fubmifTion own'd her art. 70
Can I fuch matchlefs Height withftand ?
How pradlice hath improv'd your hand !
But now and then I cheat the throng ;
You ev'ry day, and all day long.
THE DOG AND THE FOX.
TO A LAWYER.
I KNOW you lawyers can, with eafc,
Twift words and meanings as you pleafe ;
That language, by your fkill made pliant,
Will bend to favour ev'ry client ;
That 'tis the fee direfts the fenfe, 5
To make out either fide's pretenfe.
314 CAY.
When you perufe the cleareft cafe,
You fee it with a double face ;
For fcepticifm's your profeflion ;
You hold there's doubt in all expreflion. 13
Hence is the bar with fees fupply'd,
Hence eloquence takes either fide :
Your hand would have but paultry gleaning,
Could ev'ry man exprefs his meaning.
Who dares prefume to pen a deed, 15
Unlefs you previously are feed ?
'Tis drawn ; and, to augment the cofl,
In dull prolixity engroft :
And now we're well fecur'd by law,
Till the next brother find a flaw. 29
Read o'er a will. Was 't ever known
But you could make the will your own ?
For, when you read, 'tis with intent
To find out meanings never meant.
Since things are thus, fe dtfendendo, 25
I bar fallacious inuendo.
Sagacious Porta's (kill could trace
Some bead or bird in ev'ry face ;
The head, the eye, the nofe's fhape,
Prov'd this an owl, and that an ape. 30
When, in the (ketches thus defign'd,
Refemblance brings fome friend to mind,
You mow the piece, and give the hint,
And find each feature in the print ;
CAY. 315
So monftrous-like the portrait's found, 35
All know it, and the laugh goes round.
Like him I draw from gen'ral nature :
Is't I or you then fix the fatire ?
So, fir, I beg you, fpare your pains
In making comments on my ftrains. 40
All private flander I deleft,
I judge not of my neighbour's breaft:
Party and prejudice I hate,
And write no libels on the ftate.
Shall not my fable cenfure vice, 45
Becaufe a knave is over-nice ?
And, left the guilty hear and dread,
Shall not the Decalogue be read ?
If I lafti vice in gen'ral fidtion,
Is 't I apply, or felf-convi&ion ? 50
Brutes are my theme. Am I to blame,
If men in morals the fame ?
I no man call or ape or afs ;
"Tis his own confcience holds the glafs.
Thus void of all offence I write : 55
Who claims the fable, knows his right.
A ftiepherd's Dog, unfldll'd in fports,
Pick'd up acquaintance of all forts ;
Among the reft a Fox he knew ;
By frequent chat their friendfhip grew. 60
Says Renard, 'tis a cruel cafe,
That man mould ftigmatize our race.
3l6 GAY.
No doubt, among us rogues you find,
As among dogs and human kind ;
And yet (unknown to me and you) 65
There may be honeft men and true.
Thus flander tries vvhate'er it can
To put us on the foot with man.
Let my own aftions recommend ;
No prejudice can blind a friend : 70
You know me. free from all difguife ;
My honour as my life I prize.
By talk like this, from all miftruft
The Dog was cur'd, and thought him juft.
As on a time the Fox held forth 75
On confcience, honefty, and worth,
Sudden he ftopp'd ; he cock'd his ear ;
Low dropt his brufhy tail with fear.
Blefs us 1 the hunters are abroad :
What's all that clatter on the road I 80
Hold, fays the Dog, we're free from harm :
*Twas nothing but a falfe alarm.
At yonder town 'tis market-day ;
Some farmer's wife is on the way :
'Tis fo, (I know her pyebald mare) 85
Dame Dobbins with her poultry-ware.
Renard grew huff. Says he, This fneer
From you I little thought to hear ;
Your meaning in your looks 1 fee.
Pray, what's Dame Dobbins, friend, to me ?
GAY. 317
Did I e'er make her poultry thinner ?
Prove that I owe the dame a dinner.
Friend, quoth the Cur, I meant no harm ;
Then why fo captious ? why fo warm ?
My words, in common acceptation, 95
Could never give this provocation.
No lamb (for ought I ever knew)
May be more innocent than you."
At this, gall'd Renard winc'd, and fwore
Such language ne'er was giv'n before. 100
What's lamb to me ? This faucy hint
Shows me, bafe knave, which way you fquint.
If t' other night your matter loft
Three lambs, am I to pay the coft ?
Your vile reflections would imply 105
That I'm the thief. You dog, you lye.
Thou knave, thou fool, (the Dog reply'd)
The name is juft, take either fide ;
Thy guilt thefe applications fpeak :
Sirrah, 'tis confcience makes you fqueak. no
So faying, on the Fox he flies :
The felf-convifted felon dies.
GAY.
PASTORALS.
BY THE SAME.
THE DIRGE.'
BUMKINET. GRUBB1NOL.
BUMKINET.
WHY, Grubbinol, doft thou fo wiflful feem r
There's forrow in thy look, if right I deem.
'Tis true, yon oaks with yellow tops appear,
And chilly blafts begin to nip the year ;
From the tall elm a fliow'r of leaves is born, 5
And their loft beauty riven beeches mourn.
Yet ev'n this feafon pleafance blithe affords,
No.v the fqueez'd prefs foams with our apple hoards.
Come, let us hye, and quaff a cheery bowl,
Let cyder new lua/h forrow from thy foul. IO
* Dirge, or Djrge, a mournful ditty, or fong of lamen-
tation, over the dead ; not a contra&ion of the Latin Dirige
in the Popifh hymn, Dirige grejfus meat, as fome pretend.
But from theTeutonickZ)v''^i laudare, to pratfe and extol.
Whence it is poflible their Dyrke, and our Dirge, was a
laudatory fong to commemorate and applaud the dead.
C-well't Interpreter.
GAY. 319
GRUBBINOL.
Ah, Bumkinet ! fince thou from hence wert gone,
From thefe fad plains all merriment is flown ;
Should I reveal my grief 'twould fpoil thy chear.
And make thine eye o'erflow with many a tear.
BUMKINET.
Hangferrow ! Let's to yonder hutt repair, 15
And with trim fonnets caft away our care.
Gillian of Croydon well thy pipe can play ;
Thou fmg'ft moft fweet, OVr hills and far away.
Of Patient Griffel I devife to fing,
And catches quaint (hall make the vallies ring. 20
Come, Grubbinol, beneath this flicker, come ;
From hence we view our flocks fecurely roam.
GR.UBBINOL.
Yes, blithefome lad, a tale I mean to fing,
But with my woe mail diftant valleys ring.
The tale fliall make our kidlings droop their head,
For woe is me ! our Blouzelind is dead. 26
BUMKINET.
Is Blouzelinda dead ? farewell my glee !
No happinefs is now referv'd for me.
Line
15. Inciftj Mopfe, friorfi quos aut Phyllldit ignet
Aut Alconis babes laudes, aut jurgiu CoJrl
a?, dee, joy ; from the Dutch, gle^rea, to recreate.
320 GAY.
As the wood pidgeon cooes without his mate,
So fhall my doleful dirge bewail her fate. 30
Of Blouzelinda fair I mean to tell,
The peerlefs maid that did all maids excell.
Henceforth the morn fhall dewy forrovv fhed,
And ev'ning tears upon the grafs be fpread ;
The rolling dreams with watry grief (hall flow, 35
And winds mail moan aloud when loud they blow.
Henceforth, as oft as Autumn fhall return,
The dropping trees, whene'er it rains, fhall mourn ;
The feafon quite fhall ftrip the country's pride,
For 'twas in Autumn Blouzelinda dy'd. 40
Where-e'er I gad, I Blouzelind fhall view,
Woods, dairy, barn, and mows our paflion knew.
When I direft my eyes to yonder wood,
Frefh rifing forrow curdles in my blood.
Thither I've often been the damfel's guide, 45
When rotten flicks our fuel have fupply'd ;
There, I remember how her faggots large
Were frequently thefe happy moulders charge.
Sometimes this crook drew hazel boughs adown,
And fluff 'd her apron wide with nuts fo brown ;
Or when her feeding hogs had mifs'd their way,
Or wallowing 'mid a feafl of acorns lay ; 5 1
Th' untoward creatures to the flye I drove,
And whittled all the way or told my love.
GAY. 321
If by the dairy's hatch I chance to hie, 55
I (hall her goodly countenance efpie ;
For there her goodly countenance I've feen,
Set off with kerchief ftarch'd and pinners clean.
Sometimes, like wax, (he rolls the butter round,
Or with the wooden lily prints the pound. 60
Whilome I've feen her fkim the clouted cream,
And prefs from fpongy curds the milky ftream.
But now, alas ! thefe ears (hall hear no more
The whining fwine furround the dairy door;
No more her care fhall fill the hollow tray, 65
To fat the guzzling hogs with floods of whey.
Lament, ye fwine, in gruntings fpend your grief,
For you, like me, have loft your fole relief.
When in the barn the founding flail I ply,
Where from her fieve the chaff was wont to fly,
The poultry there will feem around to iland, 71
Waiting upon her charitable hand.
No fuccour meet the poultry now can find,
For they, like me, have loft their Blouzelind.
Whenever by yon barley-mow I pafs, 75
Before my eyes will trip the tidy lafs.
I pitch'd the (heaves (oh could I do fo now)
Which (he in rows pil'd on the growing mow.
There ev'ry deale my heart by love was gain'd,
There the fweet kifs my courtfliip has explain'd.
Ah Blouzelind 1 that mow I ne'er (hall fee, 81
But thy memorial will revive in me.
VOL. I, X
$22 GAY.
Lament, ye fields, and rueful fymptoms mow ;
Henceforth let not the fmelling primrofe grow ;
Let weeds, inftead of butter-flow'rs, appear, 85
And meads, inftead of daifies, hemlock bear ;
For covvflips fweet let dandelions fpread ;
For Blouzelinda, blithfome maid, is dead !
Lament, ye fwains, and o'er her grave bemoan,
And fpell ye right this verfe upon her ftone : 90
Here Blouzelinda lyes Ala^ alas !
Jbcpbcnh and remember jlcflj it grafs.
GRUBEINOL.
Albeit thy fongs are fweeter to mine ear,
Than to the thirfty cattle rivers clear ;
Or winter porridge to the lab'ring youth, 95
Or bunns and fugar to the damfel's tooth ;
Yet Blouzelinda's name mall tune my lay,
Of her I'll fing for ever and for aye :
Line
84. Pro moll! viola, pro purpurro NarciJJo
Carduus & fpinisfurgit paliurus acutls. V I p o .
go. Et tumulum facile, & tumulo fuperaddite carmen.
93. Tale tuum carmen nobls, divine poeta,
Qualefoporfe/Jis in gramlne : quale per eejlum.
Dulcis aquiz falientc fitim rejlinguere ri-vo.
Nas tamen b<xc quocunque modo lib! no/Ira viciJJIm
Diccmus, Dapbnlnque tuum tullemus ad ajira.
VIRC.
96, KftVj-ev ^ttXTrofciTO TIV axuif/.ev t fji\yi^ Xs^eiv.
THEOC.
C A Y. 323
When Blouzelind expir'd, the weather's bell
Before the drooping flock told forth her knell ;
The folemn death-watch click'd the hour fhe dy'd,
And fhrilling crickets in the chimney cry'd ;
The boding raven on her cottage fate,
And with hoarfe croaking warn'd ns of her fate ;
The lambkin, which her wonted tendance bred,
Drop'd on the plains that fatal inftant dead ; 106
Swarm'd on a rotten (lick the bees I fpy'd,
Which erft I faw when goody Dobfon dy'd.
How (hall I, void of tears, her death relate,
When on her darling's bed her mother fate ! no
Thefe words the dying Blouzelinda fpoke,
And of the dead let none the will revoke.
, Mother, quoth fhe, let not the poultry need,
And give the goofe wherewith to raife her breed ;
Be thefe my fitter's care and every morn 115
Amid the ducklings let her fcatter corn ;
The fickly calf that's hous'd, be fure to tend,
Feed him with milk, and from bleak colds defend.
Yet e'er I die fee, mother, yonder ftielf,
There fecretly I've hid my worldly pelf. 120
Twenty good millings in a rag I laid ;
Be ten the parfon's, for my fermon paid.
The reft is yours My fpinning-wheel and rake
Let Sufan keep for her dear fitter's fake;
My new ftraw hat, that's trimly lin'd with green,
Let Peggy wear, for {he's a damfel clean. 126
X 1
3H CAY.
My leathern bottle, long in harveffo try'd,
Be Grubbinol's this filver ring befide :
Three filver pennies, and a nine-pence bent,
A token kind to Bumkinet is fent. 130
Thus Ipoke the maiden, while the mother cry'd ;
And peaceful, like the harmlefs lamb, fhe dy'd.
To mow their love, the neighbours far and near
Follow'd with wiftful look the damfel's bier.
Sprigg'd rofemary the lads and lafles bore, 135
While difmally the parfon walk'd before.
Upon her grave their rofemary they threw,
The daifie, butter-flower, and endive blue.
After the good man warn'd us from his text,
That none could tell whofe turn would be the next ;
He faid, that heav'n would have her foul no doubt,
And fpoke the hour-glafs in her praife quite out.
To her fweet mem'ry flow'ry garlands ftrung,
O'er her now empty feat aloft were hung.
With wicker rods we fenc'd her tomb around, 145
To ward from man and beaft the hallow'd ground ;
Left her new grave the parfon's cattle raze,
For both his horfe and cow the church-yard graze.
Now we trudg'd homeward to her mother's farm,
To drink new cyder mull'd, with ginger warm.
For gaffer Tread-well told us, by the by, 1 5 1
Excfjfivt forrow is exceeding dry*
GAY. 325
While bulls bear horns upon their curled brow,
Or lafles with foft ftroakings milk the cow ;
While paddling ducks the ftanding lake defire,
Or batt'ning hogs roll in the finking mire ; 156
While moles the crumbled earth in hillocks raife ;
So long mall fwains tell Blouzelinda's praife.
Thus wail'd the louts, in melancholy ftrain,
Till bonny Sufan fped acrofs the plain. 1 60
They feiz'd the lafs in apron clean array'd,
And to the ale-houfe forc'd the willing maid ;
In ale and kifles they forget their cares,
And Sufan Blouzelinda's lofs repairs.
THE FLIGHT!.
BOWZYBEUS.
SUBLIMER ftrains, O rnftick Mufe, prepare;
Forget a-while the barn and dairy's care ;
Thy homely voice to loftier numbers raife,
The drunkard's flights require fonorous lays ;
With Bowzybeus* fongs exalt thy verfe, 5
While rocks and woods the various notes rehearfe.
Line
153. Dum j'uga month aper, Jfuviot dum ft/fit amailt,
Dumqve tbynto fafcentur apes, dum rare citd<e,
Semftr btntt, Homenyue luum, iauJffyuf malnebunt.
Vine.
326 GAY.
'Twas in the feafon when the reaper's toil
Of the ripe harveft 'gan to rid the foil ;
Wide through the field was feen a goodly rout,
Clean damfels bound the gather'd {heaves about ;
The lads with fharpen'd hook, and fweating brow,
Cut down the labours of the winter plow.
To the near hedge young Sufan fteps afide,
She feign'd her coat or garter was unty'd ;
What-e'er Ihe did, {he ftoop'd adown unfeen, 15
And merry reapers, what they lift, will ween.
Soon {he rofe up, and cry'd with voice fo mrill,
That Eccho anfwer'd from the diftant hill ;
The youths and damfels ran to Sufan's aid,
Who thought fome adder had the lafs difmay'd.
When faft afleep they Bowzybeus fpy'd, 2 1
His hat and oaken ftaff lay clofe befide ;
That Bowzybeus who could fweetly fing,
Or with the rozin'd bow torment the firing ;
That Bowzybeus who with finger's fpeed 25
Could call foft warblings from the breathing reed ;
That Bowzybeus who, with jocond tongue,
Ballads and roundelays and catches fung.
They loudly laugh to fee the damfel's fright,
And in difport furround the drunken wight. 30
Ah, Bowzybee, why didft thou ftay fo long ?
The mugs were large,the drink was wondrous flrong !
Thou mould'ft have left the fair before 'twas night j
But thou fat'ft toping till the morning light.
il. 22. Sirta prtcul tan turn tapitl delapfa jacdant , V i R e ,
GAY. 327
Cic'ly, brifk maid, fteps forth before the rout,
And kifs'd with fmacking lip the fnoring lout :
For cuftom fays, Wlio-ftr thh venture proves,
For fucb a kifs demands a pair of gloves.
By her example Dorcas bolder grows,
And plays a tickling ftraw within his nofe. 40
He rubs his noftril, and in wonted joke
The fneering fwains with ftamm'ring fpeechbefpoke :
To you, my lads, I'll fing my carrols o'er,
As for the maids, I've fomething elfe in flore.
No fooner 'gan he raife his tuneful fong, 45
But lads and lafles round about him throng.
Not ballad-finger plac'd above the crowd
Sings with a note fo fhrilling fweet and loud;
Nor parifh-clerk, who calls the pfalm fo clear,
'Like Bowzybeus fooths th' attentive ear. 50
Of nature's laws his carrols firft begun,
Why the grave owl can never face the fun.
For owles, as fwains obferve, deleft the light,
And only fing, and feek their prey by night.
Line
40. Sanguineis frontem morh & temfara p!ng!t,
43. Carminu qua vultis, cognofclte t carmina votis ;
Huic allud mercedls erit.
45 . Ntc tantum Phoebo gaudet ParnaJJia rupcs ;
Nee tantum Rbodope mlrantur fef Ifmarus Orpbea.
VlRO.
51. Our fwain had poflibly read Tuflcr, from whence
he might have collcfted thefe philofophical obfeivations :
canebat, uti magnum per Inane toafJa, &c.
VIRG
X4
328 CAY.
How turnips hide their fwelling heads below ; 55
And how the clofing colworts upwards grow ;
How Will-a-wifp mis-leads night-faring clowns
O'er hills, and finking bogs, and pathlefs downs.
Of flars he told that (hoot with fhining trail,
And of the glowe-worm's heat that gilds his tail.
He fung where wood-cocks in the fummer feed,
And in what climates they renew their breed ;
Some think to northern coafts their flight they tend,
Or to the moon in midnight hours afcend
Where fwallows in the winter's feafon keep, 65
And how the drowfie bat and dormoufe fleep :
How nature does the puppy's eyelid clofe,
Till the bright fun has nine times fet and rofe.
For huntfmen by their long experience find,
That puppys flill nine rolling funs are blind. 70
Now he goes on, and fings of fairs and fhows,
For ftill new fairs before his eyes arofe.
How pedlars flails with glitt'ring toys are laid,
The various fairings of the country-maid.
Long filken laces hang upon the twine, 75
And rows of pins and amber bracelets fhine ;
How the tight lafs, knives, combs, and fciffars fpys,
And looks on thimbles with defiring eyes.
Of lott'ries next with tuneful note he told,
Where filver fpoons are won, and rings of gold.
The lads and lafles trudge the ftreet along, 81
And all the fair is crouded in his fong.
The mountebank now treads the ftage, and fells
His pills, his balfams, and his ague-fpells ;
GAY. 329
Now o'er and o'er the nimble tumbler fprings, 85
And on the rope the vent'rous maiden fwings ;
Jack Pudding in his parti-coloured jacket
ToiTes the glove, and jokes at ev'ry packet.
Of raree-fhows he fung, and Punch's feats,
Of pockets pick'd in crowds, and various cheats.
Then fad he fung tie Children in the Wood-.
Ah, barb'rous uncle, ftain'd with infant blood!
How blackberrys they pluck'd in defarts wild,
And fearlefs at the glittering fauchion fmil'd ;
Their little corps the robin-red-breafts found, 95
And ftrow'd with pious bill the leaves around.
Ah gentle birds ! if this verfe lafts fo long,
Your names fhall live for ever in my fong.
For Buxom Joan he fung the doubtful flrife,
How the fly failor made the maid a wife. 100
To louder ftrains he rais'd his voice, to tell
What woeful wars in Chevy-chace befell,
When Piercy drove the detr with found and born.
Wars to be wept ly children yet unborn !
Ah With'rington, more years thy life had crown'd,
If thou had'ft never heard the horn or hound !
Yet fhall the Squire, who fought on bloody flumps.
By future bards be wail'd in doleful dumps.
Line
97. Fortunatl ambo, Jl quid ttiea carmlna pojfunt,
Nulla diet unauam memori vet eximet <rvo.
Vio.
99. A Song in the comedy of Love for Love, beginning
A Soldier and a Sailer, <Scc.
33 GAY.
All In the land of EJfcx next he chaunts,
How to fleek mares ftarch quakers turn gallants ;
How the grave brother flood on bank fo green.
Happy for him if mares had never been !
Then he .was feiz'd with a religious qualm,
And on a fudden fung the hundredth pfalm.
He fung of Taffey Welch, and Sawney Scot, 115
Lilly-lullero, and the Irijb Trot.
Why mould I tell of Bateman or of Shore,
Or Wantley's Dragon flain by valiant Moore,
The Boiu'r of Rofamond, or Robin Hood,
And how thegrafs now grows where Troy tovjnjlood?
His carols ceas'd : the liil'ning maids and fwains
Seem ftill to hear fome foft imperfeft ftrains.
Sudden he rofe ; and, as he reels along,
Swears kifles fweet mould well reward his fong.
The damfels laughing fly : the giddy clown 125
Again upon a wheat-meaf drops adown ;
The pow'r that guards the drunk, his fleep attends,
Till, ruddy, like his face, the fun defcends.
Line
109. A Song of Sir J. Denham's. See his Poems.
11 a. E tfortunatam, Ji nunyuam armentafuiJfeHt,
Pafiphaen. Vine.
117. Quid lojuar aut Scyllam niji, &e. V I * c .
117. OldEnglifh ballads.
CAY. 331
THE BIRTH OF THE SQUIRE.
AN ECLOGUE.
IN IMITATION OF THE POLLIO OF VIRGIL.
BY THE SAME.
I E fylvan Mufes, loftier /trains recite,
Not all in (hades and humble cotts delight.
Hark ! the bells ring ; along the diftant grounds
The driving gales convey the fwelling founds ;
Th' attentive fwain, forgetful of his work, 5
With gaping wonder, leans upon his fork.
What fudden news alarms the waking morn ?
To the glad Squire a hopeful heir is born.
Mourn, mourn, ye flags, and all ye beafts of chace;
This hour definition brings on all your race : 10
See the pleas'd tenants duteous offerings bear,
Turkeys and geefe, and grocers fweeteft ware ;
With the new health the pond'rous tankard flows,
And old Odlober reddens ev'ry nofe.
Beagles and fpanicls round his cradle (land, 15
Kifs his moift lip, and gently lick his hand.
He joys to hear the (hrill horn's echoing founds,
And learns to lifp the names of all the hounds.
332 GAY.
With frothy ale to make his cup o'erffow,
Barley (hall in paternal acres grow ; 20
The bee fhall fip the fragrant dew from flovv'rs,
To give metheglin for his morning hours ;
For him the cluftring hop fhall climb the poles.
And his own orchard fparkle in his bowls.
His Sire's exploits he now with wonder hears,
The monftrous tales indulge his greedy ears ; 26
How, when youth ftrung his nerves, and warm'd
his veins,
He rode the mighty Nimrod of the plains.
He leads the flaring infant through the hall,
Points out the horny fpoils that grace the wall ; 30
Tells, how this flag through three whole countys
fled,
What rivers fwam, where bay'd, and where he bled.
JsTow he the wonders of the fox repeats,
!Defcribes the defp'rate chace, and all his cheats j
How in one day, beneath his furious fpeed, 35
He tir'd feven courfers of the fleeteft breed ;
How high the pale he leapt, how wide the ditch,
When the hound tore the haunches of the * witch !
Thefe ftories, which defcend from fon to fon,
The forward boy fhall one d>*y make his own. 40
* The moft common accident to Sportfmen; to hunt a
witch in the ihapc of a bare.
GAY. 333
Ah, too fond mother, think the time draws nigh.
That calls the darling from thy tender eye ;
How fhall his fpirit brook the rigid rules,
And the long tyranny of grammar-fchools ?
Let younger brothers o'er dull authors plod, 45
Lalh'd into Latin by the tingling rod ;
No, let him never feel that fmart difgrace :
Why fhould he wifer prove than all his race ?
When rip'ning youth with down o'erfhades his
chin,
And ev'ry female eye incites to fin ; 50
The milk-maid (thoughtlefs of her future flume)
With fmacking lip (hall raife his guilty flame ;
The dairy, barn, the hay-loft, and the grove,
Shall oft* be confcious of their ftolen love.
But think, Prifcilla, on that dreadful time, 55
When pangs and watry qualms mail own thy crime.
How wilt thou tremble, when thy nipple's preft,
To fee the white drops bathe thy fwelling breaft !
Nine moons (hall publicldy divulge thy flume,
And the young Squire foreftall a father's name.
When twice twelve times the reaper's fweeping
hand
With levell'd harvefts has beftrown the land ;
On fam'd St. Hubert's feaft, his winding horn
Shall cheer the joyful hound, and wake the morn !
This memorable day his eager fpeed 65
Shall urge with bloody heel the rifing fteed.
334- GA ^-
O check the foamy bit, nor tempt thy fate,
Think on the murders of a five-bar gate !
Yet, prodigal of life, the leap he tries,
Low in the duft his groveling honour lies ; 70
Headlong he falls, and on the rugged ftone
Diftorts his neck, and cracks the collar-bone :
O venturous youth, thy thirft of game allay ;
May'ft thou furvive the perils of this day !
He fliall furvive ; and in late years be fent 75
To fnore away Debates in Parliament.
The time mail come, when his more folid fenfe
With nod important mall the laws difpenfe ;
A Juftice with grave Juftices mall fit ;
He praife their wifdom, they admire his wit. 8a
No greyhound mall attend the tenant's pace,
No rufty gun the farmer's chimney grace ;
Salmons mail leave their covers void of fear,
Nor dread the thievifli net or triple fpear ;
Poachers mail tremble at his awful name, 85
Whom vengeance now o'ertakes for murder'dgame.
Affift me, Bacchus, and ye drunken povv'rs,
To fing his friendihips and his midnight hours !
Why doft thou glory in thy ftrength of beer,
Firm-cork'd and mellow'd till the twentieth year j
Brew'd or when Phoebus warms the fleecy fign,
Or when his languid rays in Scorpio mine ?
GAY. 335
Think on* the mifchiefs which from hence have
fprung !
It arms with curfes dire the wrathful tongue ;
Foul fcandal to the lying lip affords, 95
And prompts the mem'ry with injurious words.
O where is wifdom when by this o'erpower'd ?
The flate is cenfur'd, and the maid deflower'd !
And wilt thou ftill, O Squire, brew ale fo ftrong ?
Hear then the dictates of prophetic fong. 100
Methinks I fee him in his hall appear,
Where the long table floats in clammy beer,
'Midit mugs and glafles fhatter'd o'er the floor,
Dead-drunk, his fervile crew fupinely fnore ;
Triumphant o'er the proftrate brutes he {lands,
The mighty bumper trembles in his hands ;
Boldly he drinks, and, like his glorious Sires,
In copious gulps of potent ale expires.
ON THE SETTING UP MR. BUTLER'S MONU-
MENT IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY.
BY SAMUEL WESLEY.*
VV HILE BUTLER, needy wretch! wasyetalivc>
No gen'rous patron would a dinner give:
See him, when ftarv'd to death and turn'd to duft,
Prefented with a monumental buft !
The poet's fate is here in emblem fhown, 5
He afk'd for bread, and he receiv'd a ftone.
IPIGRAM, FROM THE GREEK.
BY THE SAME.
A. BLOOMING youth lies buried here,
EUPHEMIUS, to his country dear:
Nature adorn'd his mind and face
With ev'ry mufe, and ev'ry grace :
About the marriage ftate to prove, j
But DEATH had quicker wings than LOVE.
* Bern 1690; JycJ 173$.
THE INVITATION;
BY WILLIAM HINCHLIFFE.*
\J COME, Lavinia, lovely maid,
Said Dion, ftretch'd at eafe,
Beneath the walnut's fragrant (hade,
A fweet retreat ! by nature made
With elegance to pleafe. 5
O leave the court's deceitful glare,
Loath'd pageantry and pride ;
Come tafte our folid pleafures here,
Which angels need not blufh to fhare,
And with blefs'd men divide. 10
What raptures were it in thefe bow'rs,
Fair virgin, chafte and wife,
With thee to lofe the learned hours t
And note the beauties in thefe flowers,
Conceal'd from vulgar eyes ! 1 5
For thee my gaudy garden blooms,
And richly colour'd glows ;
Above the pomp of royal rooms,
Or purpled works of Perfian looms,
Proud palaces difclofe. 20
Born 1691; dytd 1748.
VOL. L V
33$ HINCHLIFFE.
Hafte, nymph, nor let me figh in vain,
Each Grace attends on thee ;
Exalt my blifs, and point my {train,
For Love and Truth are of thy train,
Content and Harmony.
THE
BASTARD.
INSCRIBED, WITH ALL DUE REVERENCE, TO
MRS. BRETT,
ONCE COUNTESS OF M ACCL E S FI ELD.
BY RICHARD SAVAGE.*
J)ecet bac dare dona no'vercam. Ov. MET.
IN gayer hours, when high my fancy ran,
The mufe, exulting, thus her lay began.
Bleft be the Baftard's birth ! thro' wond'rou*
ways,
He fliines eccentric like a comet's blaze !
No fickly fruit of faint compliance He ! 5
He ! ftampt in nature's mint of ecftafy !
He lives to build, not boaft a generous race :
No tenth tranfmitter of a foolim face.
His daring hope, no fire's example bounds ;
His firfl-born lights, no prejudice confounds. 10
Born 1698; dyed 1743.
y 2
34-0 S A V A 6 E t
He, kindling from within, requires no flame ;
He glories in a Baftard's glowing name.
Born to himfelf, by no pofleffion led,
In freedom fofter'd, and by fortune fed ;
Nor guides, nor rules, his fov'reign choice control,
His body independent as his foul ; 16
Loos'd to the world's wide range enjoin'd no aim,
Prefcrib'd no duty, and affign'd no name :
Nature's unbounded fon, he {lands alone,
His heart unbiafs'd, and his mind his own. 20
O Mother, yet no Mother ! 'tis to you,
My thanks for fuch diftinguifh'd claims are due.
You, unenflav'd to Nature's narrow laws,
Warm championefs for freedom's facred caufc,
From all the dry devoirs of blood and line, 25
From ties maternal, moral and divine,
Difcharg'd my grafping foul ; pufh'd me from more,
And launch'd me into life without an oar.
What had I loft, if conjugally kind,
By nature hating, yet by vows confin'd, 30
Untaught the matrimonial bands to flight,
And coldly confcious of a hufband's right,
You had faint-drawn me with a form alone,
A lawful lump of life by force your own !
Then, while your backward will retrench'd defire,
And unconcurring fpirits lent no fire, 36
I had been born your dull, domeftic heir,
Load of your life, and motive of your care ;
SAVAGE. 341
Perhaps been poorly rich, and meanly great,
The flave of pomp, a cypher in the ftate ; 40
Lordly neglectful of a worth unknown,
And flumb'ring in a feat, by chance my own.
Far nobler bleflings wait the Baftard's lot ;
Conceiv'd in rapture, and with fire begot !
Strong as neceffity, he ftarts away, 45
Climbs againft wrongs, and brightens into day.
Thus unprophetic, lately mifinfpir'd,
I fung : gay flutt'ring hope, my fancy fir'd ;
Inly fecure, thro' confcious fcorn of ill,
Nor taught by wifdom, how to ballance will, 50
Rafhly deceiv'd, I faw no pits to fhun,
But thought to purpofe and to aft were one ;
Heedlefs what pointed cares pervert his way
Whom caution arms not, and whom woes betray ;
But now expos'd, and (hrinking from diftrefs, 55
I fly to flicker, while the tempefls prefs ;
My Mufe to grief refigns the varying tone,
The raptures languifh, and the numbers groan.
O memory ! thou foul of joy and pain !
Thou aftor of our paffions o'er again ! 60
Why doft thou aggravate the wretch's woe ?
Why add continuous fmart to ev'ry blow ?
Few are my joys ; alas ! how foon forgot !
On that kind quarter thou invad'lt me not :
While fliarp, and numberlefs my forrows fall ; 65
Yet thou repeat'ft, and multiply'^ 'em all !
V 3
342 SAVAGE.
Is chance a guilt ? that my difaft'rous heart,
For mifchief never meant, muft ever fmart ? *
Can felf-defence be fin ? Ah, plead no more !
What tho' no purpos'd malice ftain'd thee o'er ?
Had heav'n befriended thy unhappy fide,
Thou had'ft not been provok'd or thou had'ft died.
Far be the guilt of homefhed blood from all
On whom, unfought, embroiling dangers fall !
Still the pale Dead revives, and lives to me, 75
To me ! thro' Pity's eye condemn'd to fee.
Remembrance veils his rage, but fwells his fate ;
Griev'd I forgive, and am grown cool too late.
Young and unthoughtful then ; who knows, one day,
What ripening virtues might have made their way !
He might have liv'd, till folly died in fhame, 8 1
Till kindling wifdom felt a thirft for fame.
He might perhaps his country's friend have prov'd;
Both happy, gen'rous, candid and belov'd.
He might have fav'd fome worth, now doom'd to
fall;
And I, perchance, in him, have murder'd all.
O fate of late repentance ! always vain :
Thy remedies but lull undying pain.
Where fhall my hopes find reft ? No Mother's care
Shielded my infant innocence with pray'r : 90
* In afudden broil at a coffee-houfe the author had killed
a man ; for uubofe murder he had been tryed, corrvifted, and
fentenced; but, OK the queens interceffion) bad obtained bis
pardon.
SAVAGE. 343
No Father's guardian hand my youth maintain'd,
Call'd forth my virtues, or from vice reltrain'd.
Is it not thine to fnatch fome pow'rful arm,
Firft to advance, then fkreen from future harm ?
Am T return'd from death, .to live in pain ? 95
Or wou'd Imperial Pity fave in vain ?
Diftruft it not What blame can Mercy find,
Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind ?
Mother, mifcall'd, farewell of foul fevere,*
This fad reflection yet may force one tear : 100
All I was wretched by to you I ow'd,
Alone from ftrangers ev'ry comfort flow'd !
Loft to the life you gave, your Son no more,
And now adopted, who was doom'd before,
New-born, I may a nobler Mother claim, 115
But dare not whifper her immortal name ;
Supremely lovely, and ferenely great !
Majeftic Mother of a kneeling State !
Qu E E N of a People's hearts, who ne'er before
Agreed yet now with one confent adore ! 120
One conteft yet remains in this defire,
Who moft mail give applaufe, where all admire.
* This wretch, -who had without fcruple proclaimed
herfelf an adulterefs, bad frjl endeavoured tojlarvc her fan ',
then to tranfport him, and afterwards to hang him." Set
the autbort Life admirably written by Dr. Jobnfon.
344 SAVAGE.
)
E PITAPH
ON A YOUNG LADY.
BY THE SAME.
(_>LOS'D are thofe eyes, that beam'd feraphic firej
Cold is that breaft, which gave the world defire ;
Mute is the voice where winning foftnefs warm'd,
Where mufic melted, and where wifdom charm'd,
And lively wit, which decently confin'd, 5
No prude e'er thought impure, no friend unkind.
Cou'd modeft knowledge, fair untrifling youth,
Perfuafive reafon and endearing truth,
Cou'd honour, ihewn in friend Ihips molt refin'd,
And fenfe, that fhields th' attempted virtuous mind;
The focial temper never known to ftrife,
The height'ning graces that embellifh life ;
Could thefe have e'er the darts of death defied,
Never, ah ! never had Melinda died ;
Nor can ftie die ev'n now furvives her name, 15
Jmmortaliz'd by friendfhip, love, and fame,
[UPON THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER*
BANISHMENT, IN 1723.]
BY PHILIP, DUKE OF WHARTON,*
I.
A. s o'er the fwelling ocean's tide
An exile T u L L y rode,
The bulwark of the Roman flate,
In aft, in thought, a god,
The facred GENIUS of majeftick Rome 5
Defcends, and thus laments her patriot's doom*
II.
Farewel, renovvn'd in arts, farewel,
Thus conquer'd by thy foe,
Of honours and of friends depriv'd,
In exile muft thou go : IO-
Vet go content ; thy look, thy will fedato.
Thy foul fuperior to the (hocks of fate,.
III.
Thy wifdom was thy only guilt,
Thy virtue thy offence ;
With godlike zeal thou didft efpoufe
Thy country's juft defence : 15
No fordid hopes could charm thy ftcady foul,
NO fears, nor guilty numbers could controul,
* Bern 16995 djtd 1731.
346 DUKE OF WHARTON.
IV.
What tho' the nobleft patriots flood
Firm to thy facred caufe, 29
What tho' thou couldft difplay the force
Of rhet'rick and of laws,
No eloquence, no reafons could repel
Th' united flrength of C L o D i u s *, and of hell.
V.
Thy mighty ruin to effedl 25
What plots have been devis'd !
What arts, what perjuries been us'd !
What laws and rites defpis'd !
How many fools and knaves by bribes allur'd,
And witnefles by hopes and threats fecur'd !
VI.
And yet they aft their dark deceit
Veil'd with a nice difguife,
And form a fpecious mew of right
From treachery and lies ;
With arbitrary povv'r the people awe, 35
And coin unjufl oppreflion into law.
* ....CLODIUS, who procur'd the banifhme'nt of Ci
CERO, was a lewd Roman fenator, and made tribune of
the people. That great orator was afterwards recall'd by
POMPEY, and CLODIUS was killed by MILO, a perfon of
confular dignity; which the genius of ROME, in the two
laft ilanzas, is here made particularly to point at, as in a
prophetick manner, The chara&er is intended for Jir Robert
Walfoh.
DUKE OF WHARTON. 347
VII.
Let CLODIUS now in grandeur reign,
Let him exert his pow'r,
A ftiort-liv'd monfter in the land,
The monarch of an hour ; 40
Let pageant fools adore their wooden god,
And aft againft their fenfes at his nod.
VIII.
Pierc'd by an untimely hand
To earth {hall He defcend,
Tho' now with gaudy honours cloath'd,
Inglorious in his end.
JBleft be the man who does his pow'r defy,
And dares or truly Speak, or bravely Die.
ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.
BY CHRISTOPHER PITT.*
WITH joy, bleft youth, we faw thee reach thy
goal;
Fair was thy frame, and beautiful thy foul ;
The Graces and the Mufes came combin'd,
Thefe to adorn the body, thofe the mind ;
'Tvvas there we faw the fofteft manners meet, 5
Truth, fweetnefs, judgment, innocence, and wit.
So form'd, he flew his race ; 'twas quickly wcti} ;
'Twas but a ftep, and finifh'd when begun.
Nature herfelf furpriz'd would add no more,
His life compleat in all its parts before ; 10
But his few years with pleafing wonder told,
By virtues, not by days ; a.nd thought him old.
So far beyond his age thofe virtues ran,
That in a boy me found him more than man.
For years let wretches importune the fkies, ">
Till, at the long expence of anguifh wife, >
They live to count their days by miferies. J
Thofe win the prize, who fooneft run the race,
And life burns brightefl in the fhorteft fpace.
* Bttn 1699; dyed 1748.
PITT. 349
So to the convex glafs embody'd run, 20
Drawn to a point, the glories of the fun ;
At once the gathering beams intenfely glow,
And through the flreighten'd circle fiercely flow :
In one flrong flame confpire the blended rays,
Run to a fire, and croud into a blaze. 25
SONNET.
TO JOHN CLERKE, E S (^
BY THOMAS EDWARDS, E S O^*
Vr is ELY, O Clerke, enjoy the prefent hour,
" The prefent hour is all the time we have,"
High God the reft has plac'd beyond our power,
Confign'd, perhaps, to grief or to the grave.
Wretched the man who toils ambition's flave ; 5
Who pines for wealth, or fighs for empty fame ;
Who rolls in pleafures which the mind deprave,
Bought with fevere remorfe, and guilty fliame.
Virtue and Knowledge be our better aim ;
Thefe help us 111 to bear, or teach to fliun ; 10
Let Friendship chear us with her gen'rous flame,
Friendfhip, the fum of all our joys in one :
So (hall we live each moment fate has given,
How long, or (hort, let us refign to Heaven.
* Born 1699; dyed 1757.
CORRECTIONS.
-39- 1'3%-for eev'n read even.'
211. (note) for thatc her read tbrajitr.
228. (note) for ' Margarcta' read ' Margarita.'
162. (note) after Mores Dialogues, add r Ho-jaellt
Letters.
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