Miscellaneous POEMS UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
Written by a Young Lady.
LONDON: Printen for H. Hindmarsh, at the Golden-Ball in Cornhil. M.DC.XC.VIII.
TO Edw. Irby Esq;
SIR,
SInce 'tis Resolv'd that my Private Thoughts must run the Gauntlet through this Censorious Age, and be Exposed as well to the Critical and Unkind, as to the Good humour'd, and the Brave, I cannot think of a more Generous and Worthy Defender then your Self. And the only good Opinion I have of my Judgment, is in the Choice I have made of my Patron.
To Treat you Sir, according to th [...] Esteem I have of your Merit, is Carefully to avoid all Strain'd and Flo [...] rishing Expressions in Praise of thos [...] many Excellent Virtues and Good Qualities all that have the Honour to kno [...] you find you are Master of. No, su [...] Theams tho' full of Truth and Charm [...] are far above my humble Flights, n [...] are you to be Pleased with Attempts [...] that Nature.
To divert a Youthful Fancy, [...] Thoughtful Hour, First put me upo [...] these Poetick Strains, but little thoug [...] the unhappy Product would have prov [...] a Fugitive, and given me Cause to ow [...] her with a Blush, but all these Strugglin [...] and unpolish'd Lines, were Surprize [...] from me by a Person who does design t [...] Print them, (if possible) more Uncorect then These, which to Prevent, wa [...] [Page] the only Motive induced me to Publish what I have not Vanity enough to believe can Oblige so Ingenious an Age as this. But your Powerful Name fix'd in the Front, bears such a Charm, as like the Flaming Sword placed by the Tree of Life, will Shield me from the Fate I justly may deserve.
I never yet Debased my Conversation with any thing so mean as Flattery, and am sure far from the Odious Vice, when I say you are Critically a Gentleman, in Honour, Birth, and E [...]ucation, and tho' that Generous Name [...]erves only now to shelter Inglorious Actions, yet you by Virtuous Princi [...]les and Noble Practice, give new Life and Lustre, to the Dying Title; [...]nder such shelter then my Poor Young Blushing Muse must hide from [Page] the hard Censure of the World, an [...] from your Goodness hope, 'tis only that will make you Suspend your better Judgment and Pardon the Errors of,
SIR,
Your Obliged Kinswoman and Servant, E. W.
TO His Majesty AT His Return from WAR, November, 1697.
AS Eastern Worlds do to their Altars bow,
Such Reverence, Dread Sir, I pay to You;
And tho' in meanest Verse my Numbers flow,
Simplicity does true Devotion show:
The World's inspir'd with your Victorious Arm,
Which does the Hero fire and Coward warm;
And we, alas! think all our Charms too few,
And would turn Amazons to fight for you;
Throw at your feet, Great Sir, our Vanquish'd Crown,
Valour than Beauty still has more renown:
Whilst the whole World abroad in Peace we see,
And now no subject left for Victory,
Valour and Conduct shall your Motto be.
My Virgin Muse unus'd to Court address,
With all Submission does her fault Confess;
Nor dares she hope a Pardon from her King,
Presuming on so mean an Offering;
Yet humbly begs you'l mitigate her Fate,
Your Brightness did her Mind Illuminate.
Let Caesar not Condemn her bashful Lays,
Whose Glory first her insect Muse did raise:
In you I see the Charms of being Brave,
And scorn the Softness does my Sex inslave;
Did Clemency not over-rule your Power,
Could like the Macedonian King devour;
But you abhor th' insatiat thirst of Blood,
And mix your Greatness with your Subjects Good;
Whilst you with welcome Arms betimes bring home
The Wealth he won and Peace of Christendom,
Such wondrous blessings as could ne're be given
To happy Albion, but by You and Heaven.
And tho' I shared the unhappy Virgins fate,
I'd meet Thee, mighty Jeptha, at the Gate,
My life your welcome to Congratulate;
With Songs and Dances your glad Triumphs meet,
As Judah's Daughters Israel's King did greet,
And scatter Palms and Lawrels at your feet.
May Angels here your sacred Temples Guard;
And joys Eternal be your just reward;
Nor may you want the Blessings which you bring,
Till Heaven Crowns you an Immortal King.
The Absolute.
IF you devide your Love,
Then I must bid Adieu;
How can I ever happy prove,
When with but part of you?
Or let my Rival, or let me
Injoy your Love alone;
I Scorn a Part in any Heart,
Who has not All, has None.
The True POET.
HE's the only true Poet, who lives by his Wit▪
Who still veers to that Point where eac [...] humour does sit;
Who for every Meal a new Stratagem knows,
Who never speaks Truth, in Verse or in Prose;
Who Swears to that Promise he resolves not to keep▪
Whose Person and Lodging each day are to seek;
He Breakfasts with Ovid, with Epictetus does Dine,
He Drinks at Parnassus, and sups with the Nine:
By his Cloths you may know he's of Publick renown,
As an Ancient Collegean is known by his Gown;
His Pockets are stuft with Addresses to Nobles,
While Dinner rewards Panegyrical troubles,
Else Stomach is Passive and takes Non-resistance,
For Doctrin taught by the Primitive Christians,
Up Three pair of Stairs the next Door to the Skylight,
You may find the Contemplative Substance at twilight;
But if you should stay for the light of Aurora,
He is brush'd out abroad to Beg or to Borrow.
On Absence.
CAn I thy Absence any longer bear,
And to thy Memory not shed a Tear?
No, I could weep a Flood would quench the World,
Could Phaëton a second time be hurl'd
Off from his Flaming Chariot down below,
Nay, I could weep a second Deluge too:
I could turn Cynick and out rage the Wind,
Fly from all Courts from Business and Mankind;
All other Charms are empty Nothings to
Those solid comforts, I have lost in you.
Oh! Happiness! if happiness be ought,
Besides a wild Chimera of the Thought,
In your dear Company alone 'tis plac'd,
For when you're absent all things are defac'd:
When you are gone the Birds forget their Spring,
And in soft murmuring complaints they sing,
And Ants forget to bring their Harvest in.
All things neglective of their Pleasure lay,
When you their kind directer are away,
If all these kind Insensibles can grieve
What's then my Fate? or what can me relieve?
While thinking on the happy hours that past
When our united Souls were linkt so fast,
It brings fresh anguish to my tortur'd heart,
Which since I saw you has not left to smart;
For when you'r absent I must always mourn,
Who cannot hope, but wish for a Return:
If Prayers and wishes both successless prove,
I'le be both Slave and Martyr to my Love;
For when we always wish and never find,
We prove both Slaves and Martyrs to our mind.
On Melina's leaving Lucinda in a Passion.
YE Gods have ye no Quiet left in store
For wretched me, who nothing else implore;
I ask not Pleasure, Honour, Wealth or Fame,
Nor do I court the Vulgar for a Name,
A peaceful life alone can make me blest,
More than if with the World I was possest,
For which —
I chose a Partner which I thought would be
The sweet divertor of my hours and me,
For her I did refuse the charming Grove,
Made for the Cyprian Queen and God of Love;
For her I did my near Allies forsake,
For her I did a Country Life betake,
I left the glittering Glories of the Town,
And did for her their dear Allurement shun;
A lonely solitary Life I chose
For her alone in whom I'd plac'd repose.
She too with equal ardour did express,
In me alone she'd fixt her happiness;
Raptures too great for any to express,
Such as even dying Lovers confess;
Would she each day harangue away my hours
And to her witness call th' Almighty Pow'rs.
But now by some uncommon Passions mov'd
She laughs at me and slights her most Belov'd.
All that I write or say displeases now,
Nor looks on me without contracted brow;
Not all Compliance in the world will do,
Nor will she fail to cast Reflections too;
Her bar [...] surmizes is enough to prove
I'm not in humour, mad, or else in Love;
Or any thing that she but thinks must be,
Then runs divisions on her thoughts and me;
And then Again —
So kind she seems, so cordial in her way,
That o're my heart she bears an absolute sway:
And has an Art which I scarce ever knew
She at one time's both kind and cruel too.
But let her think when e're she acts that Part,
The cruel stabs the kindness in the heart,
Oh! that I could but Level once her Mind,
Not to be too severe, nor too too kind,
[...]'d undergo the utmost Fate can send,
Provided She were still to be my Friend:
My Life's fatigue would all a Pleasure seem
And glide apace like to a short liv'd Dream:
But 'tis too much ye Gods, I should not then
Find a Distinction from Immortal Men.
The Disobliged.
'TIS Vertues Dictate, and I always must
Be to my Word and to my Honour just;
To keep my Word my Honour is engag'd,
Tho' honour tells me I am disoblig'd:
My Word is Sacred, so's my Honour too,
To keep my Word my Honour I undo.
For she who does so light her Honour set,
Must loose her claim to Modesty or Wit.
Religion teaches Injuries t'receive,
On this account th' Affront I do forgive;
To keep my Word I my Resentments quit,
And as I Pardon, I'll as fast forget:
But from this Resolution ne're to swerve,
Humours by nicest caution to observe;
A modest gayety is what I'm sure
By Persons civiliz'd; esteem'd secure.
But I'le no more good humour ever show
'Till I this Subtle World can better know.
CLEOMIRA TO ALONSO.
TO thee that by degrees would lead me on
To Love, with thy insinuating tongue,
To thee I write, that once didst cause a smart,
And with such force didst fling the fiery dart,
Pointed with Words which bear a Fatal sound,
[...]nd does the Breast with Poys'nous rancor wound:
[...]ou drest your Love with all the Artful guile,
[...]nd then assum'd a soft bewitching stile;
[...]anguage so sweet as none did e're afford,
[...]nless design'd to kill with ev'ry Word.
And what defence could my weak Breast have made,
Whom none did e're before with Charms invade;
[...]till when my Heart a Brisk allarm did beat,
My lovely Foe promis'd a Fair retreat,
Till Love that Bane, perfum'd t' infect the Mind,
That sad Delight that charms all Woman kind,
Transsixt my Soul and made it purely thine.
When all was done the Victory was lost,
[...]n gaining Conquests which you ne're can boast;
[...]or none will e're Applaud so mean an Act,
When Foes are poorly by surprize attackt.
By all my Flatter'd hopes 'twould ne're have done,
Unless y' had come by challenge fairly on:
Then I your Passion could have boldly heard,
And with just Answers then have been prepar'd.
And when th' Account of Love did once appear,
I could be even with you in th' arrear.
Suppose you had undone a harmless Maid,
Whose Youth had by your Folly been betray'd;
Suppose your wiles her generous heart had won,
To make Attonement, what would you have done?
To Marry her, you would have scorn'd the name,
That would have been a Scandal to your Fame;
To think the Heir o'th' Family should wed
Any that brought not Thousands with her head;
I cannot blame you neither, for I'le swear
Mony's the only thing that now is dear,
So we may call some Persons whom we like,
But nought so near the heart as Riches strike,
Yet nor your Greatness nor Estate could move
My heart, that scorns such mercenary Love,
But 'twas pure Gratitude that gave you mine,
Thinking (alas) I had some share in thine;
How could you find a Heart to ruine mine,
Mine that was always tender, soft and kind;
That never then had known what Love had meant,
Or had a Thought of which I could repent;
Could you have seen me sit all greiv'd and sad,
[...]ighing, in Sorrows blackest livery clad:
That Face you once gave undeserving praise,
Ne're to appear but under cloudy rays;
Amaze of Thought still crowding o're my brow
My Words and Actions centring still on you,
Could you have seen all this and not have thought?
Alas! poor Maid 'twas I this trouble brought,
To think you robb'd me of Repose and Rest,
The only Good with which I was Possest,
And which I prize more than the glorious Pelf
That Fortune gives, nay though She gave her Self,
Could I yet think you could the least Relent?
And sighing say (alas) I do Repent,
I could Platonick like still Constant prove,
And never look on you with other Love;
Could I be satisfied you this could do,
I could forgive and still Live Loving you;
And seal your Pardon with my last Adieu.
The Supposition.
IF partial Death should take my Better part,
I mean my Friend, my dearest friend on Earth;
What Joy could e're inhabit in my heart,
Where every day would give new Sorrows birth:
Oh cruel Thought! Why dost thy self intrude
In forcing suppositions on my Mind,
Thine is of all Intrusions still most rude,
Because most Cruel, Fatal and Unkind.
The Debate.
TO be Oblig'd in what I can't Refuse
Must make Amends for what I can't Excus [...]
Within the Law Necessity ne're was;
Yet for a Forma Paup'ris mine must pass,
And I no more can help my being Oblig'd,
Then I can help the Town of Mons Besieg'd:
[...]I can help my being Ungrateful; true,
[...]t all Acknowledgments will never do.
[...]ctors and Lawyers Complements ne're like,
[...]s mighty Gold which through the Palm does strike,
[...]d send such Elevations to the Heart,
[...] does to all the Veins a Warmth impart:
[...] I have Doctors own a Soul above,
[...]king Fee Complements from them they Love:
[...]y nam'd I Love, only to make up Rhime;
[...]ndship I meant, the Love I hope's no crime,
[...]ctors may feel a Pulse in Love sometime.
[...]ich of the Two I am oblig'd to most,
[...] which in thanks I kindest must accost
[...] Considering am merely lost;
[...]e First by sickness incapacitâde,
[...]gag'd the last to give me friendly aid;
[...] I his Patient was, on his account,
[...]ly the Others Visits do amount;
[...]is makes me ne're the less Oblig'd to him,
[...] do me Good was purely his Design;
[...]e first drew Obligations for my sake,
[...]e last did all the Pains and Trouble take;
The first but Spoke the other he did Act,
They did the Kindness Both than by compact;
The Question is, whether or no the Last,
For me alone would the Fatigue have past;
Till this Decided is I can't tell who
I am indebted, which 'tis of the Two;
I'le ask the Last if me before he'd known,
What he in Kindness would for me have done;
Or when he saw me, if he came to serve
The Doctor only, or my Life preserve;
'Tis not convenient I this Thought retain,
Better secure in Ignorance remain;
That might extort an Answer might not suit
With Virgin Modesty to hear it out;
Not that his Answer ought to question'd be,
But in Retortion to what came from me;
I had as good since I'm ne're like to know,
With equal Gratitude my thanks bestow;
And own this Life (which they did both preserv [...]
Their Interest always ready to observe,
As far as Maids with Modesty can serve:
To First and Last, to Last and First be then
[...]uch thanks repaid as to Uncommon Men.
On our Present Enjoyments.
UNhappy Man who knows not how to prize
Present Enjoyment; but what before him flies
He chases, and pursues with eager hast,
But when o'rtaken, 'tis like Pleasures past,
And through the Blessing of Possession grow
As weary of them, as they're welcome now;
Oh wondrous Man! that boasts of Reason's Power,
Yet can't observe its Dictates for an hour.
On Passion.
PAssion, thou black Possessor of the Soul,
From what Foul Region didst thou take thy flight?
Avoid, thou Fiend, do not my Peace controul,
But creep in Cavernes black as darkest Night;
And as thy Pedigree came first from Hell,
There take thy residence and for ever dwell.
Whilst I sit easie with a Brow serene,
Unmov'd by any violence of Fate,
Admiring those who keep not in this meen,
And so command my Love as well as Hate.
On my having the Small Pox.
CRuel Disease, I prithee why to me
So wondrous kind? Why this Civility?
It was a Favour I did ne'er expect,
When e'er my Stars to me did you direct;
Thou that art oft so fatal to our Sex
And dost the Fairest Faces so perplex,
How came thy Hand so softned to my Skin?
Have I done ought that might thy Favour win?
My Pen ne'er wrote, nor Tongue thy Praises spoke,
Neglect, I see, does not thy wrath provoke;
Let me advise thee, for the future be
As kind to all the Sex, as thou'rt to me;
One single Charm but lost, we are Undone,
[...]hose fleeting Joys, our Lovers strait are gone:
[...]nd if our Reign we lose, we soon shall find
[...] horrid Common-Wealth amongst Mankind.
[...]ach Man will be a Monarch to his Will,
And think each single Glance enough to kill.
No, let's continue our Imperious Reign,
[...]nd when we please to Frown, a Lover's slain
[...]olleys of Frowns we will to Lewis give;
But on our Armies smile to make them live;
Then with our Warlike Heroes we may vie,
They Conquer by the Sword, we by the Eye:
Therefore when-e'er our softer Skins you trace,
Have mercy on the Beauties of the Face;
But on Mankind thy rugged Footsteps set
We Women like not Men Effeminate,
And you, Disease, can't hurt the Men of Wit.
And now I thank you, dear Disease, for all
Those Marks of Favour, and I ever shall,
Since you have been so very much my Friend,
Be your most humble Servant to command.
An EPITHALAMIUM ON Lady MARY OBRION.
AWake ye Mortals, be not lost
In Amorous Dreams, or restless Slumbe [...] tost,
But all attend on this Victorious Pair,
In smiling Triumph to the Temple lead,
Let no forsaken Virgin now appear,
But Lovers leave their murmuring Sighs,
And clear up their despairing Eyes,
Each one may like this Happy-Brave succeed
With his assiduons care,
Mean time, each strive to Celebrate,
And sing these Happy Lovers Fate.
An Universal Good by Heav'n design'd
To match the Living-Beauties of the Mind,
And multiply new Blessings on Mankind.
Joy to the Bright Eugenia's choice;
Let always Pleasures on her wait;
May soft Courtillo's charming Voice,
Be all the Matrimonial Noise
Her gentler Ear shall grate;
And if there be no Wedlock without strife,
Let Love the sweet Contention be,
And to compleat their Happy Life,
May they their Image in their Off-spring see.
On the Worthy Doctor H . . . .
PErmit me, Sir, among a thousand more
That do the Name of mighty H. adore,
To bring my humble Muse within your view,
And pay the Tribute to your Merit due.
Tis not in hopes my own applause to raise,
Who seek no other Glory than your Praise;
For 'tis not flights of Wit your Worth can prize,
Too weak Efforts, by which your Name must rise,
Your Self can best your Self immortallize.
No elevated Thought of Pregnant Brain,
(Unless by Gods inspir'd) can e'er maintain,
Fit Numbers to repeat your growing Fame.
These forward Droppings you must pardon then,
The zealous Error of my Untaught Pen;
And give me leave to vent some Thoughts abroad,
Which over-run each other in the Crowd;
You'l suffer here as Hero's at their Death,
Whose Glory's lessen'd by too common Breath;
And yet each busie Fool in Rustick Sense,
Shews admiration in Impertinence.
If you so Strong our brittle Frame cement,
As not to turn to its First
Who Pr [...] served an [...] natomy wi [...] the Flesh.
Element,And by your wondrous Art the Body save
From the cold Bosom of the gaping Grave.
All sure must wish whene'er their Pulses cease,
Your Hands may hush them to Eternal Peace;
And if the Dead you can Preserve so well,
What wonders may the Living of you tell?
[...] by Experience Summon'd to Reveal
Your generous Favours with Profoundest Skill:
Must own that Health which the kind Gods have given,
Below, the only antipast of Heaven;
That bounteous Blessing they did once afford
You their great Agent have again restor'd,
For which may all the Blessings that Descend
On happy Mortals, still on you attend;
In all your Mighty undertakings may
Success still wait on each Important day;
May you in all your wisht Amours succeed,
And if there be one Nimph for which you Bleed,
(If you in all the Sex can find you Fair,
That may deserve your Wishes or your Care)
May she with Charming Modesty be kind,
And Virtue be the Dowry of her Mind;
May Beauty, Youth, and Humour, all agree,
And Wit make up the pleasing Harmony;
May all these Charms still court each softer Hour,
Whene'er the God descends to shew his pow'r;
May you with Joys substantial still be Crown'd,
And be as Happy as you are Renown'd.
AN ELEGY On Mr. J. S. Musick-Man at the Act at Oxford, 169 [...] who was reported to be killed by Hig [...] Way-men.
OH dismal Day! Black as the Indian dye,
'Twas juster Fate decreed it, or else I
Should curse the Hour that brought it to my Eye.
For gone's that bravely Bold and Vent'rous Youth,
Who in this Age ev'n dar'd to speak the Truth;
And not long since in Rostrum brought to light,
The deeds of many done in darkest night.
'Tis he whose strength of Words did batter down,
Vices of either Petticoat or Gown,
From Weakest to best Fortify'd in Town.
[...] Lovely Youth! Oxford must be to you
[...]bted still for Virtues that ensue,
[...]ose Theatre St. Mary's can out-do.
[...]sure must mourn at thy Untimely Fate,
[...]rime of Years pluckt from a good Estate;
[...] going to reap the Fruit his Father sow'd,
[...]th Cropt him with the Scyth he should have mow'd.
[...] poor Man! the Kentish Ladies cry,
[...]e Irish-Teagues o're his Dead Body sigh,
[...]e does the Hope of many a Virgin lie.
[...]andsome Proper Man, and Brave Estate,
[...] cruel Highway-men! Oh barbarous Fate!
[...] since he's gone, and Sorrow can't retrieve
[...] fleeting Soul, why should we longer Grieve?
[...] let us by a Nobler method try,
[...] make his Name live to Eternity;
[...] at were a Subject would ev'n Creech provoke,
[...] Grief did not his lofty Fancy choke:
[...] we're my weaker Pen must give it o'er,
[...]ho only can this suddain Loss deplore,
[...]d pray that Heav'n afflict us so no more.
THE PROPHESIE
FAte has a Leaf of her large Book turn'd o [...]
A Leaf which I ne'er read but once before▪
And yet a Leaf I fain would read once more.
When first I look'd on this Mysterious side,
Which treated of how Hearts to Hearts were ty' [...]
Within a short Parenthesis I read,
To Whom and When Melinda was to Wed:
Very well pleas'd at her good Fortune, I
A little farther cast my wand'ring Eye;
To see, if in that side it did not show
If Marriages e'er by Succession go;
If so, then next Idumia Hymen sings,
But Fate clapt up her Book, and ty'd the Strings▪
And did for this Inquisitive Offence,
Bind me Apprentice to sev'n Years suspence;
[...]hat expir'd, she out her Folio brought,
[...] believ'd to satisfie each Thought;
[...]ch did like Ladies Common-Pray'r-Books, all
[...]lace of Matrimony open fall:
[...]e next Paragraph she let me know,
[...] Marriage did not by Succession go;
[...]hose who best could Love, and without Strife,
[...]d be content to make Intrigue for Life;
[...] Astragon was next in Register,
[...]appy Union too it did aver:
[...] less pleas'd than at the time before,
[...]g'd she would let me look a little low'r;
[...] she refus'd and shut her Book up vext,
[...] only answer'd, I should not be next;
[...] live a Virgin sev'n Years longer yet,
[...]en wed a Man of Money, and no Wit.
[...]ust confess, the Answer did surprize,
[...]d startle all m'interiour Faculties;
[...]d must I then an Aged Maiden grow?
[...]hich in this Age is so reproachful too;
[...]d for a Fool to wait, I could dispence
[...]he Patriarch's time, wer't for a Man of Sense.
To seize the Jilt I scarcely could forbear,
Or this curs'd Leaf out of her Book to tear;
But that I found some Justice on her side,
When Fool I thought on, thus I strait reply'd,
A Fool indeed, whoe'er makes me his Bride;
He by his choice soon to the World will show,
Whether he be'nt a Fool in grain or no:
But while black Passion did my Thoughts engage,
Fate smil'd at my Unprofitable rage,
And with a scornful Jeering sort of Scoff,
Took up her dark Decrees and so march'd off.
A SONG.
I.
FOrbear fair Nymph a while to Scorn
Injoy your Youth and Love,
[...]'re think those Beauties with you born
Will Everlasting prove.
II.
[...]me passes swiftly by your Eye,
And Day each Day does chace,
[...]d tho'unseen to you they Fly:
I see it in your Face.
III.
[...]hink what your Slights to me have done:
Think e're your Beauty's past,
[...]hink how those Years, that o'er you run,
Will leave some Track at Last.
IV.
And when old Age and Wrinkles come,
True Antidote to Love,
Remember Cloë what you've done
And from Mankind remove.
An Answer to a SONG
I.
'TIs a Silly mistake
That Riches can Speak;
Or e're for good Rhetorick pass;
To a Fool I confess
Your Gold may address,
Where the Master's an absolute Ass.
II.
But to Women of Sense,
'Tis a Sordid pretence:
That a Golden Effigies can move Her;
No Face on the Coin
Can be half so Divine,
As that of a Faithful young Lover.
III.
But Men when they Love
Their Passion to prove,
[...]om the Court, to the Dull Country Novice;
To the Fair they're so kind,
First to Fathom her mind,
[...]ext search the Prerogative Office.
IV.
No Imprimis I give,
Then the Fair one they leave,
[...]otwithstanding the Strong Protestation;
Till the Lady discovers
No Fortune, no Lovers,
[...]nd draws off Her fond Inclination.
On Mr. Finger's Musick in [...] Anatomist, or Sham-Doctor
SIlence Ye meaner Spirits of the Air,
The Gods themselves do give attention▪
And with new pleasure cease the Spheres above,
And wonder at our harmony of Love:
Our Second Orpheus does the First excel,
This Charms the Heavens, no scornful Maid in
His Consort's too Divine for Stone or Wood,
And by the Gods alone is Understood;
In vain are all Poetick Flights to show
The Mighty Raptures which we find Below.
Transported from my Self, I'd quit each Sen [...]
If in exchange I Hearing could Commence;
And when my Soul Returns I fall to Rhimes,
And Bless the happy Orpheus of our Times.
On a Steel Pen with a Cupid Engraven on the Top.
GO tell Young Damon he has nibb'd my Pen
So soft, that it must never write to Men;
And tho' the Error was too harsh before,
To Err in Softness needs must make it more,
When Coridon first gave this pointed Steel,
[...] could not Love, that mighty Fault reveal,
[...]ut well Instructed by the Hand that gave,
[...]ike him it taught the Vertue to be Brave;
[...]ut as the Finest things do first decay,
[...] heedless Swain soon stole the Gift away,
[...]nd on't impris'd a Cupid Cap a pee,
[...]ounding a Heart, the very Heart of me;
[...]atal Resemblance! Since it did forebode
[...] real mischief from the Angry God;
[...] [...]
He need not fly through Woods and Groves to me,
Nor shoot so oft, one was as well as three,
Where Eyes can wound there needs no Deity.
'Tis strange, the Mettal of my Pen's the same
With that which Love does all his Arrows frame,
But still this mighty Difference remains,
That gives the Wound, when mine will ease the pain [...]
In Vulcan's Forge much hardness they require,
My Pen is softned by a Gentler fire;
Beat out by cruel Cyclops are his Darts,
Mine by a Softer hand and tender Art,
To tell the Grief, when t'other gives the Smart.
Blame not my Vertue when I write of Love,
Since by the God himself my fingers move.
The Early Amour.
I'VE Lost much time in Mirth and light Discourse▪
And spent much breath on Lovers and Love [...] force▪
My heart at Fourteen beat up Loves allarms,
And I poor Innocence set up for Charms:
E're scarce Fifteen to Courtship I gave Ear,
Heard all those things which Faithless men will Swear,
What I would have I easily believ'd,
And with my own consent too oft Deceiv'd;
I knew those Graces did not in me grow,
Yet thought 'twas fine that they should tell me so,
And did believe their Heart and Tongue enclin'd,
To prove it was no Fiction, Love was Blind.
At Sixteen years I grew extreamly Coy,
And what a Lover ask'd sure to deny;
When in my Praise their stock of Wit they spent,
And in full Gales of Sighs their Passion vent,
I seem'd all Ignorant of what they meant.
If e're by stealth they have my Fingers prest,
I learn'd my very Fingers to resist;
Thus I ran on nor stopt my full career,
Till looking back at Twenty smiling Year,
At once I found my Error, their Deceit,
Their false Insinuations, and my Fate;
But now so hardned am to all their crys,
Their far fetcht Flights, feign'd Tears and Amorous sighs,
That all the ways found out by subtil Man,
Could never make me Credit them again:
Thus did I spend my Gayity and Youth,
And found in none but Strephon Love and Truth;
For he such Faith and Constancy has shown,
As would for all the Sexes Crimes attone.
And now as free as Mountain Air I move,
My mind not Sully'd with the thoughts of Love;
And tho' my Ears too Credulous have been,
My Heart was always Innocent within;
And as it hitherto has been my Guard,
Prudence shall now assist to keep the Ward:
Thus my Lifes Scene I'le happily compleat,
Learn how to hold my Tongue and be Discreet.
Antonio to Lucinda after a P [...] sent of her Hair.
RIch Diadems let haughty Monarchs wear,
I'm prouder in Lucinda's brighter Hair;
Their thoughtful brows let that vile Mettal bind,
That of all ill's the Fruitful cause we find:
More pretious Wealth does round my Temples play,
Which Phoebus would prefer to Daphne's Bay.
Not Eastern Groves such fragrant Odours yield,
When wanton Zeph'rus fans the Spicy Field;
Nor does the Sun that endless Spring of light,
Shed threads of Gold so tender, and so bright,
So wondrous fine, so Charming to the sight.
Princes may boast of Fleets with Treasures fraught,
And Ill-got Wealth from distant Nations brought;
More happy I (with Reverence be it said)
To whom the Fairest Nymph our Isle e're bred,
Lucinda, pays the Tribute of her Head.
The Hypocrite.
TO him that Slights me I Incline,
And you that Love me shun,
Compell'd by Fate, no fault of mine,
I to my Ruine run.
Could I unruly Fancy guide,
My thoughts you would not blame,
Rewarding you should be my Pride,
As Loving him my Shame.
Then do not blame a Nymph, that grieves
Your Merit can't prevail,
Till time and chance our hopes relieves,
Your care and mine is vain.
ON LUCINDA's Going to the Indies to be Married.
WELL since 'tis so, come hither all, oh come,
And with me read, as if it were your doom;
For gone's Lucinda, with her all is gone,
That Vertue, or that Goodness e're put on,
Then gone's my Light, gone is my all, my Sun,
My life's extinguisht e're it was begun;
Sun, Moon and Stars if they together joyn,
Are all dull Meteors when compar'd to mine:
And without her, what e're they here call bright,
Shines but enough to shew me it is night;
But oh She's gone! alas for ever gone
And left me grov'ling in the Dark alone.
But stay Ye Gods! I at a Distance see
A glimpse of light, by Heav'ns it must be She!
Then level all; Hills into Vales remove
'Tis Love that drives, and all must yield to Love.
'Tis She, but oh! what mean these mighty Fears?
She in a Ship? the Kingdom all in Tears?
As quick as thought I thro' the World will range,
To know the Meaning of this mighty Change:
O wretched Isle with me this Loss bemoan,
The only Jewel in the Crown is gone;
She from the Center flung her Rays about,
But now She's gone they are for ever out.
But stay let's think, where can this Light be gone?
Perhaps to Greenland, there's but little Sun;
Or else yet farther, where the Serpents rowl,
Under the Center of the freezing Pole.
No, no, She's gone to help, at last l've guest,
The Aged Sun in his arising East,
And there to make a Matrimonial Feast.
For since he's old, 'tis fit we there should place,
And get a Son for to maintain the Race;
Well may the Indies now of Treasure boast,
For in short time 'twill all Land on their Coast.
O Alteration! O what Change I find!
Since She is gone, if I must stay behind.
I whilst with her did all their Pelf despise,
But for the Future will their Treasure prize,
And to her Shrine offer up Sacrifice.
And this to Heav'n shall be my fervent Pray'r,
That over her it have peculiar Care:
And thou great Neptune of the mighty Deep,
Her Ship from Storms and Rocks in safety keep;
Call all your Sea Nymphs, let your Syrens see,
That on her Bark, they all Attentive be.
When on the Waves tempestuous Storms there are,
And Sol can't lend one Beam to guild the Air,
Set o're her Ship a Sky serene and clear.
[...]en let your Dolphins all their Musick bring,
[...]d as she fails, glide gently by and sing.
[...]r ne'er till now the Ocean ever bore,
[...]Great, so Good, so rich a Prize before;
[...] wou'd have done, but oh! I can't forbear,
[...]r great's your Charge, and great must be your Care:
[...]herefore great God of all the Foaming Main,
[...]aft her o're Safe, Safe bring her back again.
On the Death of My Little Niece.
MIrror of Innocence whither art thou fled?
Above the Clouds, or dwell'st among the Dead?
[...]o; thy sweet Soul's too Innocent and Bright,
[...]'inhabit those Eternal Shades of Night.
[...]eav'n is thy blest Abode, where thou dost reign
[...]ith thy Creator, and that numerous train
[...]f glorious Saints and Angels, that do sing
[...]ternal Hallelujahs to their King.
While my unhappy Soul is still confin'd
To Sorrow, Sickness, and a Troubled Mind;
A Pris'ner kept within its House of Clay,
And with Impatience waits that Happy Day,
When my All-wise Creator thus shall say;
Leave thou thy dismal Mansion I thee gave,
Which shall thy better part no more enslave,
But as a Prey shall serve to treat the Grave:
Whilst thy Diviner part to me shall fly,
Where Tears shall be a Stranger to thine Eye;
For all that thou didst suffer whilst beneath,
Was only to obtain this Glorious Wreath,
I, as a Trophee of my Mercy give.
Then, Then my Airy Soul shall mount aloft,
Too fast for swiftest Time, or nimble Thought
To trace the Path, from whence it took its flight▪
So of its duller Earth it bids good Night;
When thus with fullest Joy my Soul's possest,
And with my glorious Maker's presence blest,
My Soul will then enjoy an Everlasting Rest.
On Secret Love.
LIke Secret Love no Pleasure sure is known,
When Hearts become an Ʋndivided one;
[...]imes a Silent Joy o'er-spreads our breast,
[...]m delight does all our Mind invest:
[...] clouds of Jelousie do interpose,
[...] Saddens all our blest and dear Repose.
[...] cautious Eye still with our Thought is bent,
[...]hes the Look which to another's sent;
[...]n every word bears an unusual sound,
[...] does our Breast with jealous horror wound;
[...] when these Lovers meet and Charm the Ill,
[...] did their Mind with Perturbation fill;
[...]ainging Souls with new repeated Vows,
[...]lemn Joy mounts o'er their clouded Brows:
[...]y catch the coming Joy, and grasp the Prize,
[...]t flys with transport from each others Eyes;
[...]s which truths declare what Tongues conceal,
[...]ose swifter motion all their Thoughts reveal.
The Conquest.
MAN I defie, if Hostile he appears,
But dread him when he comes with [...] and Tears.
The first arms me with Pride and Insolence,
And puts me in a Posture of Defence:
The last all Rage and Anger does remove;
And only Pity leaves to aid my Love;
To see a Man of Courage, Grace, and Wit,
Poorly to weak Womanish Tears submit;
Who fears no Wars, nor does a Combat shun,
Yet, by Dear Charming Woman is undone:
See at her Feet the Charming Suppliant lies,
Whose throbbing Heart sends moisture to his E [...]
There in Pathetick sounds his Love repeats,
And harden'd Virtue with beseeching Cheats.
Lucinda to her Heart.
UNgenerous Heart! cou'dst thou no pity have
Upon thy most Obsequious humble Slave;
[...]e that Ador'd and Lov'd thee with such Zeal,
[...]ilst harden'd thou did'st no Compassion feel;
[...]ou that could'st Laugh at all Loves Fooleries,
[...]d took sound Truth for Perjury and Lyes.
[...]e Sex you did Contemn, nor wou'd believe
[...]e honest Demonstrations he did give:
[...]w thou art met with, Heart, and Fitted too,
[...]ith one that can thy wondrous Pow'r out-do.
[...]d art thou then resolv'd to fix on one?
[...]at Loves this Minute and the next is gone;
[...]t 'tis no Matter; you but Justice have,
[...]ul' find but such returns as once you gave.
[...]u scorn'd your Lover when He talkt of Flame
[...] Now you are come I fear to write the same;
When he e're sad or Melancholly was,
Ridiculous, you'd cry; what means the Ass!
Sure he do'nt think that Posture e're can cha [...]
Such solid Coxcombs ne're can do me harm.
A spritely Air, an Elevated Wit
He must assume, e're I can think it fit
This Free-born Soul so humbly to Submit.
Fut when this form he took, as men you see,
Can Proteous like soon Metamorphos'd be;
Methought he look'd as if he dar'd his Fate,
And did presumptiously incur my hate:
Thus with contempt I did Mankind defie,
And brav'd those Dangers which are now too [...]
Alas poor Women! thou art ne're Secure,
But must Assaults and Batteries endure
Of Charming Words, which thrown against thy B [...]
The Invader Love soon Plunders all thy rest.
Did I encourage Strephon e're to say?
Ten Thousand things which did my heart betra [...]
His fluent Tongue a Prompter did not want,
That cou'd ask faster much than I could Grant;
[...] Tongue, his Eyes, each motion Spoke his Love
[...] me, who did the Fatal Object prove;
[...]ou'd I had rather been that of his hate,
[...]en I for ever had been Fortunate:
[...]here Fortunes disagree, and kindness shown,
[...]here hearts become an undivided One,
[...] suffer Separation then must be
[...]e worst of Ills, that Fate can put on me.
[...]ell —
[...] that a Heart so fixt as mine can move,
[...] that my niggard Fortune starves my Love.
On a Smile from Silvia.
LEt th' Ambitious proud with Courtly Toil,
Pismire like creep on their Golden Soil:
[...]t the Bold Merchant bring the Indies home,
[...]d Pave his way with Pearls and Pretious Stone;
[...]t Heroes to with Warlike heat inspir'd,
[...]ght till their Arm has their whole body tir'd:
Whilst I more High, more Rich, more Laurels g [...]
When I one Smile from Silvia can obtain.
For such a Favour I an Age cou'd wait,
Tho' from that hour my ruine took its date.
If e're I am Ambitiously inclin'd,
It must a Smile in Silvia's Face to find,
Pride consequently then must seize my mind.
A Merchant sure with such a Treasure stor'd,
Wou'd be more worth than Indies can afford;
How gladly wou'd I tug the lab'ring oar,
To bring such Jewels to our English shore?
Bold and Heroick too I'de fight the Prize,
For the half shut of Silvia's Mouth and Eyes:
Proud with the Conquest I'de up Laurels root,
And in them wreathed be from Head to Foot.
For this —
A King might leave His Throne with good preten [...]
And yet not lessen his Magnificence.
A SONG.
AH Cruel Nymph Resign resign
That Stony Adamantine Heart,
[...]nd give it in exchange for Mine,
Mine that is Soft in every Part;
[...]or You alas have wondrous Skill,
And can more than Magicians do,
[...]or with your Eyes you Wound and Kill,
And Syren like you Charm me too.
[...]ut how can I attempt that Breast?
Warm'd with Seraphick Fire,
[...]hat with Divinity's Possest,
And Heavenly thoughts inspire;
[...]may as well the Winds Pursue,
When they their Breezes on me cast,
[...]atch 'em and think they are my due,
When they alas are but a Blast.
On Friendship.
FRiendship! that Sound does all my Senses Cha [...]
And does my Soul with generous Pass [...] wa [...]
That Name of Friend a pleasing Accent bears,
And Crowns my Life, and Conquers all my Fears▪
For if there be a Happiness on Earth?
'Tis to a Friend, to give our Sorrows Birth.
A Friends a Cordial when our Spirits sink,
Which saves our Bodies on the tott'ring brink,
Who leaves no Thought unroul'd in his great Mi [...]
Nor to the Limit of a Sum's confin'd.
These are the Marks of Friendship, and were I
Either to have no Friend, or else to Die,
I'd quit the World and Generously loose
That Life that must a Dearer Friend refuse.
THE RESOLUTION.
ALas! how soon are Maids undone?
When Men their Love impart,
Charming Musick of their Tongue,
[...]es many a Virgins Heart.
[...] sad Experience this I know,
[...]en Strephon first did Love,
[...] what soft tender things he'd Vow,
[...] to Compassion move.
[...] sit and Gaze out all his hours,
[...] Sigh out all his Words;
[...] Swear by the Almighty Pow'rs,
[...] all that Heav'n affords.
[...]kt the Poyson at his Lip,
[...] Drank it from his Eyes;
[...] it in every Vain did creep,
[...] did my heart Surprize.
Sweet was the Draught while he was true,
Till he his Vows did break;
Love from my Breast like Lightning flew,
And in my Eyes did speak.
The Blushes then did leave my Face,
My Wounds encreas'd their smart;
My Blood ran swift from ev'ry place,
To guard my Fainting heart.
Go Perjur'd wretch be gone I cry'd,
Since you can use me thus;
That you may ever be deny'd,
Shall always be my Curse.
On Mellena's absenting her [...] a whole day when I was Si [...]
MEllena can no longer boast,
Of constant Love to me;
I look upon that Heart as lost,
That once can absent be.
[...]eart that loves, admits no Stay,
But soon will passage get;
[...]n Locks nor Bolts do keep the way,
The Passion can't be great.
[...]'re made those Harangues of Love,
Nor sigh'd so much as She;
[...] yet I find a Softness move,
Beyond what hers can be.
[...] I my Liberty like her,
I'de not such distance keep;
I no one like her pre [...]er,
None wounds my Soul so deep.
[...]pon a Present of Fruit sent me by an unknown Hand suspecting it came from Mellena.
THe Gift was tart, but kind was the Intent,
I'm sure I took it so how e're 'twas meant.
The Gift was grateful, and if Right I Guess,
The Giver needs must find the same success;
Tell her I will not of her Present Tast,
Till with her Company I first am Blest.
Grant me but always that, I ask no more,
Nor will I envy Misers with their Store:
Nor Crowns nor Scepters, which I deem as [...]
When but compar'd to our indulgent Joys.
A SONG.
ASk me no more why I am swell'd with [...]
Since daily crowds of strong insulting [...]
Harangue my melting Soul,
To all the softness of a Love-sick Fo [...]
That I Myrtilla Lov'd I ever knew,
But Thought withall Myrtilla too was True,
For with such art so kind she seem'd▪
That I for ever, ever could have Drea [...]
For 'twas all Vision that my Sense took in,
Charm'd to a Slumber by her Wit and Mein.
Ʋpon the Sudden Change of Capadora's Brow. By I. S. Esq;
ONce I beheld her (Pardon me the Sin
Of boldly Contemplating things Divine;)
As in a Trance She seems, nor looks nor minds
The least Diversion, tho' among her Friends.
I watch'd and wonder'd till by by swift surprise,
Her Elevated Brow rose o'or her Eyes;
This done; She soon return'd (to'r Self and us)
Excellent Company —
— But why was it thus?
Why moves her fair Brow after such a pause?
I find this is and only this the Cause.
Her serious Soul an Emissary sends,
To visit Angels her Celestial Friends;
With whom She constant holds intelligence,
Sends often thither, and hears oft from the [...]
Her looks a while are Grave, her Voice is m [...]
Her Soul with it's own thoughts b'ing in disp [...]
Till on a sudden in its errand taught,
Thorow the Window of her Eye is brought,
Now Pearching on her Brow a Winged Thought▪
Some short Ejaculation sure it is,
To stop some Evil or procure some Bliss;
Delaying there a while as if, 'twou'd see
On her fair Face Heav'n in Epitome:
Or else as other Travellers will do,
First in the Map, see Countries where they go▪
Or if by a Pardonable error took,
Heav'n really to be in her dear look;
Shrowding into her Brow, as the Best place,
Taking her Eye to be the Throne of Grace▪
Nor can I blame the Spirit, since Thousands a [...]
Mistaken in a Way not half so Fair;
But by our Company b'ing undeceiv'd,
It upward sprung and left her brow new wa [...]
You may have seen a Bough (where Philomel
[...]er her warbling Musick bids farewel
[...]pairing to her Mates) bend to express
[...] grateful Complement to her parting Guests,
[...]v'd by the pressure of her Springing Shanks
[...]e yielding Twig pays in that motion thanks.
[...] Capadora's Pray'r to Heav'n aspir'd,
[...]hile the Misterious motion we admir'd.
A SONG.
FArewel my only Joy, Farewel,
How I have Lov'd thee, only I can tell;
[...]en welcome Death, since Strephon's lost,
[...]me hast me to th' Elyzian Coast.
[...]nseless and Pale, there lay me down,
[...]ith this Inscription o're my Tomb:
[...]ay, Reader, stay be not afraid,
[...]ere lies the Constant, Constant Virgin Dead.
On Intrest.
NO, no, 'tis Intrest now the World does [...]
And Intrest we more than our King Ob [...]
What is't for Intrest Men won't Gladly do?
Mortgage their Souls and Glorious Heav'n forego.
Man for his Intrest will his Friend Betray,
If once Almighty Intrest leads the Way.
Beauty and Wit are now esteem'd no more,
In the Fair Sex without the Golden Ore;
But be she once Possest with Bags of Gold,
No matter whether She's Ugly or Old;
A Whore, or Baud, or a Chimny-Sweepers Daug [...]
There's ne're a Beau in Town but ventures at he [...]
Poor Muckworm, Animals bred by the Sun,
Go and Adore the Dunghil whence you Sprung:
Go see if there you find true Happiness,
Or hope hereafter for Eternal Bliss.
While my Sublimer Thoughts to Heav'n I raise,
And will for what I'njoy my Maker praise;
Content and Easie with my little Store,
Secure of that, ne're wishing to have more.
On Happiness.
NO, 'tis Illusion all, there ne're was yet,
True Happiness on this Dull Earth,
We think it is compriz'd in Wit,
But that first gives our Sorrows Birth.
For we might much more Happier be,
Cou'd we no Distinction make;
Did not these Mortal Eyes once see:
What difference 'twixt Sleep and Wake.
The Eye our Reason does mislead,
In fixing it on things Below;
Our Reason follows but its Guide,
Which left, it might Immortal Grow.
Turn then thy wandring Balls to Heav'n,
'Tis there from whence true Joys do Flow,
Let from this World thy thoughts be Driv'n,
If thou true Happiness wilt know.
On my Fate.
WEll! since 'tis so, so let it ever be,
I hate the World as much as that does [...]
A Sawsy, Proud, Insulting World,
Let it be to Confusion hurl'd;
'Twill be but what it was, a Sorded thing,
Till thrown in order by our Heav'nly King.
What can there be to make me Covet it?
Not Wealth, nor Beauty, but Sublimer Wit.
Grant me that Wish and I will envy none,
No not the greatest Monarch on his Thorne.
On a Gentleman taking a Pocket-Glass from Lucinda, sent it back with this Following Appology.
I Purpos'd, Madam, for my part,
To take your Glass and leave my Heart;
[...]ut least you think th' Exchange too Small,
[...]'ve left your Glass my Heart and all.
[...]f of my Service you'll allow,
[...]'le come to Church, but pray to you;
And thank with all the kinder Powers,
That made me Passionately yours.
The Penitent.
GReat God! when Sullen darkness Crowns th' Ai [...]
With Horror, then O let me not Despair
Of thy dear Presence, but for ever be
A Shield between my dismal Faults and me,
Faults did I say, nay Crimes of Blackest dy,
Crimes for which I in Justice ought to Die.
And when my Temples shadow'd are with Sleep,
Let Angels my unguarded Genious keep:
And watch my Thoughtless and depraved Will,
From present Dangers, and from future Ill.
This grant Eternal Being and my days
I'le spend in Singing thy Eternal Praise.
Lifes Happiness.
HE that can leave the solid Joys of Life,
The charming Blessings of a Virtuous Wife▪
Whose chearful Brow and soft Endearments give,
[...]h Bliss, as none but happy Men Receive:
[...]hose kind Discretion stems the Tide of Love,
[...]d makes it with more lasting Pleasure move,
[...]hose Hony-Moon ever at Full remains,
[...]at don't begin with Horns nor end in Wanes;
[...]hose mutual Hearts such Halcion Minutes bring,
[...] make their Lives gay as the Infant Spring;
[...]ch Souls are calm, Love sweetens all their cares,
[...]d Crowns their Life, and Conquers all their fears.
[...]e that in one may find such Charms, and yet
[...]r want of Fortune his Lov'd Mistress quit,
[...] does from Fate her utmost Rage deserve,
[...]ho will to please his Pride his Pleasure starve.
[...]ant me, ye Gods, such solid Joys to prove!
[...] Desart's Heaven with the Nymph I Love:
[...]ent to walk within our safe retreat,
[...] Aged Oak shou'd be my Mansion seat;
[...]hose lofty Structure Heaven alone can raise,
[...]d stands a lasting Monument of Praise;
[...] Name more Ancient Pedigree does know;
[...]r better Arms, no Heraldry can show:
Under whose reverend Branches I should be,
More happy in the Converse of my She,
Than Heir Apparent of the Family.
From thence derive my Happiness and Fame,
Contents th' additional Title to my Name:
Let the Ambitious toil away their Prime,
And purchase Riches with their Loss of Time;
Let them Drudge on, fatigue their Life away,
Look Old with Care, and in their Youth Decay▪
While I in lower Station live and move,
Enough's sufficient, where the Want's not Love.
A SONG.
IT is a Sin for Maids to Love,
At least to tell their Flame;
Tho' mine an Angry God wou'd move,
And make a Tyrant tame.
Yet I've that Pride within my Breast,
That will my Love conceal;
[...]ho' twere to gain an Age of rest,
One thought would not reveal.
[...]et he I Love is gay and young,
Has all the Charms of Youth;
[...]nd I'd consent to be undone,
Had he but Love and Truth.
[...] still in secrecy love on,
And hug my pleasing Chain;
[...]ince such a Charmer put it on,
Tho't gives perpetual pain.
The Vow-Breaker.
THere's nought on Earth so false can be,
As that Ungrateful, wretched he,
That first did break his Faith with me.
He must be Damn'd of consequence,
Since he still heightens his offence,
With Crimes of feigned Innocence.
By all that's Sacred, just or true,
Each day did he with Oaths pursue
His Love, and Vow'd it constant too.
Ʋpon Inconstancy.
IT is but just, a Constant heart
Shou'd for its Vertue Suffer;
Or Martyrdom must be the Part,
Of ev'ry Faithful Lover.
A Passion so refin'd as Love,
Is purify'd by Flame;
And 'tis the surest way to prove,
A Love the most Sublime.
This makes our Sex so Generally,
By Art Mankind to try;
To find a Lover that may be
Said for their sakes to die.
Indeed of old it was the Fate,
Of some to die for Love;
[...] from their Customs derogate,
[...] nothing old approve.
[...] think Inconstancy no Crime,
[...] 'tis a Vice in Fashion;
[...] Perjury is in our time,
[...] Crying Sin o'th' Nation.
An Elevated Thought.
O Say my Soul, for sure I long to know,
When thou shalt to those glorious Mansions go;
[...]e Mansions where all Tears are wip'd away,
[...] Night is turn'd to Everlasting day:
[...] such a Day, as which no Mortal can,
[...]eive the Glory there reveal'd to Man;
[...] all the borrow'd Joys of fancy'd bliss,
[...] in the Least describe what Heaven is.
[...]ar e're heard or Tongue did e're impart,
[...] ye e're saw, or entred in the Heart,
[...] splendour of the Beatifick face
[...]ng refulgence on th' Angellick race.
O when will come that ever Glorious day?
When Heav'nly Sounds shall to my Ears co [...]
Come thou blest Spir't to thy Divine abode,
And Reign for ever with thy King and God▪
Then shall I shake off dull Mortallity,
And keep an everlasting Jubilee.
All Earthly Joys I shall at distance view,
Those painted Nothings which we all pursue▪
Foolish as false, uncertain as they're few.
Contemn these gaudy mischiefs, O my Soul,
And let them not thy Noblest part Contro [...]
That when thou'rt clear of all this Earthly [...]
May'st mount above thy Maker to behold.
But stay Desires, fly not away so fast,
For you have Crimes that will retard your [...]
Seek first for Mercy at th' Almighty's Thro [...]
There let thy Pray'r and Penitence attone▪
For what else thou for ever must bemoan.
[...]on Mrs. H— who bad me Write something of Her.
FOrgive me, Madam, if my Pen express
No other Rhetorick than gratefulness;
[...] mighty Flights are to your Merit due,
[...] might I choose a Theme it shou'd be you:
[...] lest I injure in a Stile too low,
[...] only silent admiration show,
[...] with th' astonish'd Crowd at distance bow.
[...] mine's a poor, weak, blushing, Virgin Pen,
[...]t knows not Ovid, Cicero or Ben,
[...] whether there be Muses Nine or Ten;
[...] it knows nothing more than your Command,
[...] pay its thanks when last it kiss'd your hand.
The Resignation.
AH! my too rigorous Stars, why do [...]
Impose such Contradictions on my W [...]
Why did you place me in this little Sphere
To tread th' uneasie round with so much care▪
Continual Slave to watchfulness and fear.
Condemn'd to Nonsence, Pride, Impertinence▪
Each day contemn'd by those of lesser Sence,
And serve as Engine to their Arrogance.
Oh! 'tis a little, saucy, Noisy World,
That has the calmness of my Soul unfurl'd;
But why shou'd I in restless Passion burn?
For what will all to Dissolution turn.
Then each proud Animal that treads the Ea [...]
That pond'rous Mass of dirt from which they'd [...]
And the Proud flesh of nicer Mortal must
Moulder to Earth and mix with common dust▪
Then who's the Mighty man of Wealth or W [...]
Which held the Plo [...], or which the Burnish'd [...]
[...]en there will need no Herald to decide,
[...]ich Blood was best, Father or Mothers side,
[...] if to Prince or Beggar near Alli'd.
[...]hat great Day 'twill not be understood,
[...]ho this Man was, but whether Just and Good;
[...]en let me not with Heav'n expostulate,
[...]r wonder at the Just decrees of Fate:
[...]s th' Almighty's Will it should be so,
[...]hose Breath can make the Alpian Mountains bow.
[...]en cease Tempestuous Thoughts, be calm and still,
[...]ates the Word, 'tis the Almighty's Will;
[...]ith all submission I, great God, resign,
[...] thou my Guide, for I am only thine.
A SONG.
YEs there are wonders in his Face,
But in his Conversation more;
[...]ch accent carries such a Grace,
[...] spoke by an Almighty Pow'r.
When e're he does his Passion move,
In awful Thunder 'tis exprest;
But oh! no Laurel shelters Love,
Or Guards a too too willing Breast.
But if I e're deceiv'd must be,
As soon or late all Virgins are;
Strephon's the dear, deceitful he,
For whom (alas) I wou'd despair.
The grand Fatigue of Faithless Love,
I should a Pleasure call;
None can my Passion disapprove,
When I to Sence a Victim fall.
The Rebel.
MUtinous Heart! why dost thou so molest▪
My all serene and ever Peaceful Breast▪
Abroad I've kept thee safe from Batteries,
At home secur'd thee from all Enemies;
Guarded thee from the never failing Tongue,
(Artillery so Fatal to the Young)
That thou my Heart hast yet escap'd the Wrong.
[...]o Tears, nor Oaths, nor Vows did ever move,
[...]y yet Unconquer'd mighty self to Love.
[...]d what tho' you no Conquest e're did gain?
[...]r Valour you with Glory may maintain;
[...] Laurels yet did never Grace your Brow,
[...]illows no Tribute to your Temples owe.
[...]hy will you then, Ungrateful as you are,
[...]aise in your own Dominions civil War?
[...] you have your dear Country thus Betray'd,
[...]ou must expect that Strangers will Invade;
[...]ay I my self, the Empire will resign,
[...]o some kind Heart now while the Pow'r is mine:
[...]ather than bear unnat'ral Tyranny,
[...]nd by thy Barb'rous beating poorly Die,
[...] will Submit to any Monarchy.
[...]ou may go wander where you will for me,
Take up with any little Fighting he,
Or go a Volunteer' gainst th' Enemy.
You may be Welcome in a Fight at Sea,
The Navy has more Rebels there than thee;
You may like them do well in such a Cause,
Who break their own, scarce keep anothers Laws.
An Acrostick on Sir J. H.
JUstice and Love, those attributes Divine,
On you descend from the Jessian Line;
Since that blest Race, our Records have not kn [...]
Each single Grace so much abound in one:
Prophets of old were but the Counter-part,
Here's yet Another after Gods own heart.
Humble and Great are wonders when they joyn,
Each centers here to make your stamp Divine;
Reward him Heav'ns with your peculiar Grace,
Number him Chief amongst thy Chosen Race,
Eternally to view thy Beatisick Face.
A SONG.
WHy is not Wit with Beauty joyn'd?
I hate a Face without a Mind;
If e're I to the Sex submit,
'Twill be to Cloes powerful Wit.
For Celia tho' divinely Fair,
Art may improve, or Age impair:
'Tis Wit alone my Passion moves,
The only thing that time Improves;
The God with Wit must Tip his Dart,
And pierce my Ear to wound my Heart.
To Clemander.
WHy should Clemander tax my Breast,
With so much Cruelty?
Who ne're did yet Disturb your rest,
By ways of Subtilty.
But since unhurt you do complain,
True Woman I will prove;
And for your mocking Lovers pain,
I'le try to win your Love.
And if within my Snare you get,
As Maids such mischiefs do;
Know then, Clemander, all your Wit,
Will not untangle you.
Love is a strange Pathetick Power,
All Soon or Late endure;
And gives a Wound in one short Hour,
Which Ages cannot cure.
Therefore take heed to guard your Heart,
When e're you Jest with Love;
That may in earnest give a Dart,
Too Fatal to remove.
But if I were the happy She,
Could such a Conquest gain;
Believe, Clemander, I should be
Proud always to remain
Yours.
The Truth.
I Hate Mankind and all th'accursed crew,
That Innocent and harmless Maids undo;
Their false dissembling Tongues no Woman can
Hear and believe, but surely they're undone.
They dress up Love with damn'd Insinuation,
The Modish Garb t'undo the whole Creation;
They first begin with Madam, I'm your Slave,
And must be so, since First the Wound you gave,
By Heav'ns those Charming Eyes, and You alone
Will claim by due, Mankind to be Your own;
Gods! what a Lovely Brow and Front is there
To look all Dead! Because you will and dare,
An Air so Charming and a Mein Divine,
Where Gods and Graces by consent combine;
To form a Soul adorn'd with Parts, shou'd be
By all that's Noble Lov'd by Sympathy:
And since you're thus, consider; 'twill be kind
To think I Love as Honour has design'd.
These are the large Professions that they make
Till gaining hopes the Thesis they forsake,
The Honour's gone, and Intrest lies at stake.
A SONG.
DAmon, in yonder Shady Grove,
Lies that supposed Deity,
We Shepherds stile the God of Love,
And oft do feel, tho' never see.
Alas we do Mistake his Power,
Th' Immortal Tit is now no more.
Jove Angry at his Idle Reign,
Undeify'd the Boy;
Nor will he let him have again,
The Pleasure to Destroy.
So all the World may Live at ease,
Lucinda too do what she Please.
On Mrs D. C.
Ardon me, Madam, that I am inclin'd
To trace the Matchles Vertue of your Mind;
[...] I by so Divine a Precedent,
[...] run my self the Glorious way you went.
[...]der to so great an Enterprize,
[...] thoughts strait Mounted to the yeilding Skies;
[...]s in that Sphere, I did your Heart discern
[...]lly devoted to the Great Concern.
[...] well Garnish'd Temple seem'd to me,
[...]or the ever Living Deity.
[...] could th'attonement of my Heart suffice,
[...] my past Crimes, I'd offer'd Sacrafice;
[...] with Amazement, as I nearer came
[...] it burn with such Seraphick Flame;
[...] I on Sight grew Warm with such Bright Zeal,
[...] this hour the kindling Influence feel,
[...]mend each day by your Example still.
Pleas'd with such Visions I my Thoughts [...]
Till I began your better Part to View,
I mean your Godlike Souls more Brighter Po [...]
But lost my own by Contemplating You [...]
And when retreiv'd, resolv'd t' attempt no [...]
Such curious search, I gave the Progress o' [...]
Content to Imitate you and Adore.
The Choice.
SUre 'tis some mighty Ill that I have [...]
To draw this too too fatal suffering▪
For I at First was never Born design'd
To Study, watch, or please anothers Mind:
My humour is unfit for such a task,
Who never Truth with Flattery cou'd Mas [...]
I ne're cou'd Fawn Inveigle, Swear or Lie
Those little arts in Friendship all defie,
Whose Souls e're glow'd with Generosity;
And mine did ever scorn that Sordid end,
That does Intitle Interest with a Friend.
[...]ell then! Since Honest Truth cannot prevail,
[...]nd soft complyance not at all avail;
[...]hat if I (Stoick like) sit calmly down,
[...]onqu'ring my Passions even to a Frown?
[...] that perhaps I might the more Offend,
[...]nd raise the Fury which I wou'd Suspend;
[...]or nothing more offends the Passionate,
[...]han careless Silence when they wou'd Debate.
[...] take me hence if this be Living here;
[...]ave to Contention, Discontent and Fear;
[...]r send me to some Lonely Rural Seat,
[...]ar from the Noise of the Contentious Great;
[...]here let me live with some Dear Charming She,
[...]rom Business, Pride, or Affectation free,
[...] Loving her, She only Loving me.
A SONG.
OFt has he Swore, and I as oft believ'd
For with that Tongue the World might be deceiv'd;
[...] [...]
But now too plainly I the cheat descry,
And will our Sexes cunning use;
Next Minute he pretends to die,
That minute I'le the Fop refuse.
When in feign'd Raptures I Courtillo see
Burn in that fire which he design'd for me;
Revenge not Love augments the Flame
With scorn of my too deadly hate,
Will make the Mighty Lover tame,
When dying won't recal his Fate.
Then die ingrate Courtillo if you please,
And when the Pangs of Death do seize;
Remember how your sly Deceit
Has rackt the poor Lucinda's Breast,
Think Heaven will repay the Cheat,
And never give the Perjur'd rest.
AN ACCROSTICK ON E. I. Esq.
EMbellishment adds nothing to that Name,
Distinction sets above the Reach of Fame:
[...]ilst brighter Nature circles o're your brow,
[...] is an useless Shine that Light to show;
[...]h Vertue reigns in each accomplish'd part,
[...]ells in your Breast and Triumphs in your Heart.
[...]pire me (Muse) with something Just to say,
[...]b not his Honour by your dull delay;
[...]d round his Temples Lawrels, Myrtle, Bayes,
[...]ild to his wondrous Merit mighty praise.
To a Young Lady just befor [...] Her Marriage.
FAir Lovely Maid, permit my Muse to Sha [...]
And in your Mighty Joys a Part to bear;
She must be more than Pleas'd if you are so,
But ah! the wondrous Blessings you bestow,
He who Possesses you can only know.
The Envied happy He of all Mankind,
To whom Heaven has the Fairest Nimph assign [...]
With all her brighter Treasury of Mind.
Go, and be happy, as your Loves can make,
And if he give such Blessings as he take,
You must have Joys too great for humane Sense
And Immortality on Earth Commence;
If Divine pleasure we below would prove,
It must be in Sincere and Mutual Love.
Where Love rides Admiral Tempests never ri [...]
His Days are Halcion, all Serene his Skys;
[...]ch may you find, and such for ever keep,
[...]ill calm your Passage o're the Stormy Deep;
[...]hes of Joy to you are Needless here
[...]o possess more than what a Wish can bear.
[...] may they ever last without Decrease,
[...]or may your Love but with your Pulses cease.
To Strephon.
TIs Pitty Converse such as yours should be,
Excluded when the ends Civility
[...]endship 'tis true, too often's a Pretence
[...] cheat a Poor unwary Innocence;
[...]it she whose some experience has made wise,
[...]ews well the mighty Fantome in Disguise,
[...]arks all her paths which do to Honour lead,
[...]nd knows the Borrow'd Juno e're she's Fled;
[...]ith these discerning Eyes I find in you,
[...]he real Honour, from the seeming true;
[...]nd only Grieve I cannot pay in kind
[...]hat Generous Civility I find.
Some Words sent me by an Ʋnknown Hand.
WOman the Happy pledge of Heavens goo [...]
Woman the Perfect product of it's Skil [...]
'Tis Woman all our happy hours employ,
Woman the Center of all Earthly Joy.
And yet were I, all she is or can,
I would not cease to be that Creature Man;
Man as I am, so Man I still would rest,
I would be Man to be by Woman blest.
The Wish.
COuld poor Lucinda have her Wish,
It should be bounded all in this,
Might She in quietude possess
A Friend and Book both good and true;
[...] he would to Crowns prefer her Bliss,
[...]d bid the Falser Sex adieu.
Writ in a Lady's Pocket Book.
TO Speak my Love I want an Ovid's Tongue,
And Cicero's Pen would do your Merit wrong,
[...]o weak alas is Rhetorick to prove,
How much you Merit, or how much I Love.
The Farewel by Mr. I. W.
Now at our Farewel, Phillis, (if you will,)
Accept the Sorry Song of Philophill.
MY Phillis now is all my Song:
To her my heart, my hand, my tongue
Is now Devoted; only She
My Mistress, Saint, and Soul must be.
Tho' now the Morning makes no stay,
But straight unlocks the Door of Day.
Before her early Beams appear,
To bring us news the Sun is near,
My Phillis Stands before my Sight;
Her Beauties chace away the Night.
Her Light the Darkness does controul,
Like Lightning shines into my Soul;
And tho' no heat the Sheath do feel,
It burns within, and melts the Steel.
When forth I walk in Flowery Feilds,
The chief delight my Phillis yields.
No Cloud obscures the pleasant Light:
'Tis Phillis makes the day so bright;
See how the Flow'rs do smile on me,
'Tis Phillis Beauty then I see.
The Fields as fragrant are as fair:
'Tis Phillis breath perfumes the Air.
The Birds with Singing please my Ear:
Then Phillis Voice methinks I hear.
When I'me transported with my bliss,
From Phillis Lips I Steal a Kiss.
[...] when the Sun that shines so bright,
[...]s down, and Envies my delight.
[...] she unvails, might he but stay,
[...] kiss her Beauty all away.
[...]ail forbids his amourous Shines:
[...]n at my pleasure he repines.
[...]'d rob me of them by his fall:
[...] I in Phillis find them all.
[...]hese delights I mean to rest:
[...]onick Pleasure is the Best.
ON LUCINDA Going to Church.
IN vain Lucinda much in vain,
You would conceal your Love;
[...]hen ev'ry Look and ev'ry Strain,
Does more your Passion prove.
Can the Dear Needle leave it's North,
Or Nature quite decay;
Or can the Earth leave bringing forth
In April or in May.
Then may Lucinda cease to show
The Passion of her Breast,
When by each Blush and by each Smile,
Her Love is still exprest.
I doubt not but the other day
You went with zeal to Church,
But when the grateful Object came,
Devotion's left i'th Lurch.
How was her trembling Heart perplext?
'Twixt Earth and Thoughts above;
But let the World say what it will,
All Powers must yield to Love.
Sent me by a Gentleman.
GIve me the Eyes give me the Charms
That Govern'd are by Art;
[...]hat can our Beaux subdue in swarms,
Tho' Beauty has no part.
[...]nce each affected glance can move
Bright Nature wee'l despise;
[...]hat need of Merit or of Love
To make a Fop your Prize.
We live in such a wretched Age,
What can our Passions move;
[...]owards and Boys in feuds engage,
And Aukward Fools make Love.
The Answer.
TAke you the Artificial Charms,
Bright nature I Admire;
You Beaus like Bees may Die in Swarms,
When Brimstone Face can Fire.
Take the affected Glance you Love,
While Merit 'tis I Prize;
Beauty so Low does never move,
Unless 'tis to Dispise.
You wrong the Age in which you Live,
Nor can I blame that Fair;
That slights the Passion Fools do give,
When Men of Sence are near.
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Cloris and Almeria.
[...]lor.
WHat does the bright Almeria wish or Fear,
Who does so sad in these rude shades appear.
[...]ir Royal Maid, you who in Courts do shine,
[...]nd whom the Admiring croud does stile Divine;
Why do those Eyes, which have their Thousands Slain,
[...]f glorious Youths, their Beauty waste in Vain?
Why thus in Tears which have such Fire sent,
Unless the Gods fresh Danger to prevent,
Destroy their Pow'r by Contrary Element.
A.
Alas you little know within this Shade,
Where nothing does your soft repose invade.
How we in Courts destroy our Infant hours,
With baffled hopes and Loves Almighty Powers.
Where Men vile Men with false Pretentions move▪
Our Innocent unthinking Hearts to Love.
By Vows and Oaths and promised greatness won,
By Love and by Ambition we're undone.
C.
'Tis true our Village harbours no Deceit,
Whose Pride is to be Honest more then Great:
In Constancy our Emulation lies,
And Words alone are obligatory Tyes.
No Shepherds here call back that Faith they've giv [...]
Their Vows are Sacred both to us and Heaven,
But speak Almeria, your sad tale impart,
I have a Lovers pity in my Heart.
Sit down beneath this Poplar here by me,
Love will sometimes be eased by Sympathy.
A.
Know then when first I trod the Ambitious [...]
Of Albions Court, the Glory of our Isle.
From Rural Shades a harmless Maid I came,
Untoucht in Thought, and Spotless in my Fame.
Unused to Artifice in Face or Mind,
Fair without Art, and Innocently kind.
[...]atch my tender Flock was all my care,
[...]eaving flowry Garlands for my Hair;
[...]st every Shepherd strove upon the Green
[...]se Voice should first Proclaim Almeria Queen.
[...] I unknown to other Joys was pleas'd,
[...] wild Ambition had my Parents Seiz'd.
[...] thought my Beauty lost to Country Swains,
[...]me to Soft to Live on rugged Plains:
[...] and Untaught they sent me to the Court,
[...]re all the Youth of Quality resort;
[...]demn'd to Ceremony, Dress, and Air,
[...] Wig and Stinkirk they Attack the Fair,
[...] Coach and Equipage they gild the Bait,
[...] Carry on the Mischief to be great;
[...]re 'twas my early Hopes were soon deceiv'd,
[...] gladly what I wisht, I soon believ'd.
[...] Women too too Credulous alas!
[...]nk what we wish will surely Come to Pass.
[...]se gay Deluders led me Fairly on,
[...] Vows and Promises, to be Undone.
[...] warn'd by me, you who in Courts reside,
[...]re Sacrifice your Pleasure to your Pride.
C.
Alas I Pitty poor Almeria's Fate,
And is it then so Dangerous to be Great.
Is there no Laws for the Unfaithful Sex,
Must they still Triumph where they most Perplex▪
Chloris may Bless the humble Life she Loves,
She meets no Disapointments in these Groves.
If she her Careless Flocks secure from Harm,
No other Fear her Chearful brest Alarms,
To Fright her from her welcome Shepherds Arm [...]
Stay here with me, and I will part my Sheep,
On yonder Hill you the One half shall keep,
On shady Banks wee'le wast the Scorching day,
With Songs and Tales wee'le Drive your Grief a [...]
FINIS.