to black Despair Start from the ground and throw your Mourning by Loves great Sultana says you shall not die The dismal dark half year is over past The Sea is op'd the Sun shines out at last And Trading's free the storms are husht as death Or happy Lovers ravisht out of breath And listen to Astraea's Harmony Such power has elevated Poetry T. C. To the Lovely Witty Astraea on her Excellent Poems OH wonder of thy Sex Where can we see Beauty and Knowledge join'd except in thee Such pains took Nature with your Heav'nly Face Form'd it for Love and moulded every Grace I doubted first and fear'd that you had been Unfinish'd left like other She 's within I see the folly of that fear and find Your Face is not more beauteous than your Mind Whoe'er beheld you with a Heart unmov'd That sent not sighs and said within he lov'd I gaz'd and found a then unknown delight Life in your looks and Death to leave the sight What joys new Worlds of joys has he possest That gain'd the sought-for welcome of your Breast Your Wit wou'd recommend the homeliest Face Your Beauty make the dullest Humour please But where they both thus gloriously are join'd All Men submit you reign in every Mind What Passions does your Poetry impart It shews th'unfathom'd thing a Woman's Heart Tells what Love is his Nature and his Art Displays the several Scenes of Hopes and Fears Love's Smiles his Sighs his Laughings and his Tears Each Lover here may reade his different Fate His Mistress kindness or her scornfull hate Come all whom the blind God has led astray Here the bewildred Youth is shew'd his way Guided by this he may yet love and find Ease in his Heart and reason in his Mind Thus sweetly once the charming W lr strove In Heavenly sounds to gain his hopeless Love All the World listned but his scornfull Fair Pride stopt her ears to whom he bent his prayer Much happier you that can't desire in vain But what you wish as soon as wish'd obtain Vpon these and other Excellent Works of the Incomparable Astraea YE bold Magicians in Philosophy That vainly think next the Almighty three The brightest Cherubin in all the Hierarchy Will leave that Glorious Sphere And to your wild inchantments will appear To the fond summons of fantastick Charms As Barbarous and inexplicable Terms As those the trembling Scorcerer dreads When he the Magick Circle treads And as he walks the Mystick rounds And mutters the detested sounds The Stygian fiends exalt their wrathfull heads And all ye bearded Drudges of the Schools That sweat in vain to mend predestin'd fools With senseless Jargon and perplexing Rules Behold and with amazement stand Behold a blush with shame and wonder too What Divine Nature can in Woman doe Behold if you can see in all this fertile Land Such an Anointed head such an inspired hand II. Rest on in peace ye blessed Spirits rest With Imperial bliss for ever blest Upon your sacred Urn she scorns to tread Or rob the Learned Monuments of the dead Nor need her Muse a foreign aid implore In her own tunefull breast there 's wonderous store Had she but flourisht in these times of old When Mortals were amongst the Gods inrolld She had not now as Woman been Ador'd But with Diviner sacrifice Implor'd Temples and Altars had preserv'd her name And she her self been thought Immortal as her fame III. Curst be the balefull Tongue that dares abuse The rightfull off-spring of her Godlike Muse And doubly Curst be he that thinks her Pen Can be instructed by the best of men The times to come as surely she will live As many Ages as are past As long as Learning Sense or wit survive As long as the first principles of Bodies last The future Ages may perhaps believe One soft and tender Arm cou'd ne'er atchieve The wonderous deeds that she has done So hard a prize her Conqu'ring Muse has won But we that live in the great Prophetesses days Can we enough proclaim her praise We that experience every hour The blest effects of her Miraculous power To the sweet Mcsick of her charming tongue In numerous Crowds the ravisht hearers throng And even a Herd of Beasts as wild as they That did the Thracian Lyre obey Forget their Madness and attend her song The tunefull Shepherds on the dangerous rocks Forsake their Kinds and leave their bleating Flocks And throw their tender Reeds away As soon as e'er her softer Pipe begins to play No barren subject no unfertile soil Can prove ungratefull to her Muses Toil Warm'd with the Heavenly influence of her Brain Upon the dry and sandy plain On craggy Mountains cover'd o'er with Snow The blooming Rose and fragrant Jes'min grow When in her powerfull Poetick hand She waves the mystick wand Streight from the hardest Rocks the sweetest numbers slow IV. Hail bright Vrania Erato hail Melpomene Polymnia Euterpe hail And all ye blessed powers that inspire The Heaven-born Soul with intellectual fire Pardon my humble and unhallow'd Muse If she too great a veneration use And prostrate at your best lov'd Darling's feet Your holy Fane with sacred honour greet Her more than Pythian Oracles are so divine You sure not onely virtually are Within the glorious Shrine But you your very selves must needs be there The Delian Prophet did at first ordain That even the mighty Nine should reign In distant Empires of different Clime And if in her triumphant Throne She rules those learned Regions alone The fam'd Pyerides are out-done by her omnipotent Rhime In proper Cells her large capacious Brain The images of all things does contain As bright almost as were th'Ideas laid In the last model e'er the World was made And though her vast conceptions are so strong The powerfull eloquence of her charming tongue Does clear as the resistless beams of day To our enlightned Souls the noble thoughts convey Well chosen well appointed every word Does its full force and natural grace afford And though in her rich treasury Confus'd like Elements great Numbers lie When they their mixture and proportion take What beauteous forms of every kind they make Such was the Language God himself infus'd And such the style our great Forefather us'd From one large stock the various sounds he fram'd And every Species of the vast Creation nam'd While most of our dull Sex have trod In beaten paths of one continued Road Her skilfull and well manag'd Muse Does all the art and strength of different paces use For though sometimes with slackned force She wisely stops her fleetest course That slow but strong Majestick pace Shews her the swiftest steed of all the chosen Race V. Well has she sung the learned Daphnis praise And crown'd his Temples with immortal Bays And all that reade him must indeed confess Th' effects of such a cause could not be less For ne'er was at the first bold heâ—t begun So hard and swift a Race of glory run But
yet her sweeter Muse did for him more Than he himself or all Apollo's sons before For shou'd th' insatiate lust of time Root out the memory of his sacred Rhime The polish'd armour in that single Page Wou'd all the tyranny and rage Of Fire and Sword defie For Daphnis can't but with Astraea die And who can dark oblivion fear That is co-eval with her mighty Works and Her Ah learned Chymist 't is the onely can By her almighty arm Within the pretious salt collect The true essential form And can against the power of death protect Not onely Herbs and Trees but raise the buried Man VI. Wretched O Enone's inauspicious fate That she was born so soon or her blest Muse so late Cou'd the poor Virgin have like her complain'd She soon her perjur'd Lover had regain'd In spight of all the fair Seducers tears In spight of all her Vows and Prayers Such tender accents through his Soul had ran As wou'd have pierc'd the hardest heart of Man At every Line the fugitive had swore By all the Gods by all the Powers divine My dear O Enone I 'll be ever thine And ne'er behold the flattering Grecian more How does it please the learned Roman's Ghost The sweetest that th' Elysian Field can boast To see his noble thoughts so well exprest So tenderly in a rough Language drest Had she there liv'd and he her Genius known So soft so charming and so like his own One of his Works had unattempted been And Ovid ne'er in mournfull Verse been seen Then the great Caesar to the Scythian plain From Rome's gay Court had banish'd him in vain Her plenteous Muse had all his wants supplied And he had flourish'd in exalted pride No barbarous Getans had deprav'd his tongue For he had onely listned to her Song Not as an exile but proscrib'd by choice Pleas'd with her Form and ravish'd with her voice His last and dearest part of Life Free from noise and glorious strife He there had spent within her softer Armes And soon forgot the Royal Iulia's charmes VII Long may she scourge this mad rebellious Age And stem the torrent of Fanatick rage That once had almost overwhelm'd the Stage O'er all the Land the dire contagion spread And e'en Apollo's Sons apostate fled But while that spurious race imploy'd their parts In studying strategems and subtile arts To alienate their Prince's Subjects hearts Her Loyal Muse still tun'd her loudest strings To sing the praises of the best of Kings And O ye sacred and immortal Gods From the blest Mansions of your bright aboads To the first Chaos let us all be hurld E'er such vile wretches should reform the World That in all villany so far excell If they in sulphurous flames must onely dwell The Cursed Caitiffs hardly merit Hell Were not those vile Achitophels so lov'd The blind the senseless and deluded Crowd Did they but half his Royal Vertues know But half the blessings which to him they owe His long forbearance to provoking times And God-like mercy to the worst of crimes Those murmuring Shimei's even they alone Cou'd they bestow a greater than his own Wou'd from a Cottage raise him to a Throne VIII See ye dull Scriblers of this frantick Age That load the Press and so o'erwhelm the Stage That e'en the noblest art that e'er was known As great as an Egyptian Plague is grown Behold ye scrawling Locusts what ye've done What a dire judgment is brought down By your curst Dogrel Rhimes upon the Town On Fools and Rebels hangs an equal Fate And both may now repent too late For the great Charter of your Wit as well as Trade is gone Once more the fam'd Astraea's come 'T is she pronounc'd the fatal doom And has restor'd it to the rightfull Heirs Since Knowledge first in Paradise was theirs IX Never was Soul and Body better joyn'd A Mansion worthy of so blest a Mind See but the Shadow of her beauteous face The pretious minitures of every Grace There one may still such Charms behold That as Idolaters of old The works of their own hands ador'd And Gods which they themselves had made implor'd Iove might again descend below And with her Wit and Beauty charm'd to his own Image bow But oh the irrevocable doom of Nature's Laws How soon the brightest Scene of Beauty draws Alas what 's all the glittering Pride Of the poor perishing Creatures of a day With what a violent and impetuous Tide E'er their flow'd in their glories ebb away The Pearl the Diamond and Saphire must Be blended with the common Pebbles dust And even Astraea with all her sacred store Be wreckt on Death's inevitable Shore Her Face ne'er seen and her dear Voice be heard no more And wisely therefore e'er it was too late She has revers'd the sad Decrees of Fate And in deep Characters of immortal Wit So large a memorandum's writ That the blest memory of her deathless Name Shall stand recorded in the Book of Fame When Towns inter'd in their own ashes lie And Chronicles of Empires die When Monuments like Men want Tombs to tell Where the remains of the vast ruines fell To the excellent Astraea WE all can well admire few well can praise Where so great merit does the Subject raise To write our Thoughts alike from dulness free On this hand as on that from flattery He who wou'd handsomly the Medium hit Must have no little of Astraea's Wit Let others in the noble Task engage Call you the Phoenix wonder of the Age The Glory of your Sex the Shame of ours Crown you with Garlands of Rhetorick Flowers For me alas I nothing can design To render your soft Numbers more divine Than by comparison with these of mine As beauteous paintings are set off by shades And some fair Ladies by their dowdy Maids Yet after all forgive me if I name One Fault where Madam you are much to blame To wound with Beauty's fighting on the square But to o'ercome with Wit too is not fair 'T is like the poison'd Indian Arrows found For thus you 're sure to kill where once you wound I. W. To Madam A. Behn on the publication of her Poems WHen the sad news was spread The bright the fair Orinda's dead We sigh'd we mourn'd we wept we griev'd And fondly with our selves conceiv'd A loss so great could never be retreiv'd The Ruddy Warriour laid his Truncheon by Sheath'd his bright sword and glorious Arms forgot The sounds of Triumph braggs of Victory Rais'd in his Breast no emulative thought For pond'ring on the common Lot Where is said He the Diff'rence in the Grave Betwixt the Coward and the Brave Since She alas whose inspir'd Muse should tell To unborn Ages how the Hero fell From the Impoverisht Ignorant World is fled T'inhance the mighty mighty Number of the dead II. The trembling Lover broke his tuneless Lute And said be thou for ever mute Mute as the silent shades of night Whither Orinda's gone Thy musicks best
That the deluded Fancy leads astray II. For pitty hide thy Starry eyes Whose Languishments destroy And look not on the Slave that dyes With an Excess of Joy Defend thy Coral Lips thy Amber Breath To taste these Sweets lets in a Certain Death III. Forbear fond Charming Youth forbear Thy words of Melting Love Thy Eyes thy Language well may spare One Dart enough can move And she that hears thy voice and sees thy Eyes With too much Pleasure too much Softness dies IV. Cease Cease with Sighs to warm my Soul Or press me with thy Hand VVho can the kindling fire controul The tender force withstand Thy Sighs and Touches like wing'd Lightning fly And are the Gods of Loves Artillery To Lysander who made some Verses on a Discourse of Loves Fire I. IN vain dear Youth you say you love And yet my Marks of Passion blame Since Jealousie alone can prove The surest Witness of my Flame And she who without that a Love can vow Believe me Shepherd does not merit you II. Then give me leave to doubt that Fire I kindle may another warm A Face that cannot move Desire May serve at least to end the Charm Love else were Witchcraft that on malice bent â—enies ye Joys or makes ye Impotent III. 'T is true when Cities are on fire Men never wait for Christal Springs But to the Neighb'ring-Pools retire Which nearest best Assistance brings And serves as well to quench the raging Flame As if from God-delighting Streams it came IV. A Fancy strong may do the Feat Yet this to Love a Riddle is And shows that Passion but a Cheat Which Men but with their Tongues Confess For 't is a Maxime in Loves learned School Who blows the Fire the flame can only Rule V. Though Honour does your Wish deny Honour the Foe to your Repose Yet 't is more Noble far to dye Then break Loves known and Sacred Laws What Lover wou'd pursue a single Game That cou'd amongst the Fair deal out his flame VI. Since then Lysander you desire Amynta only to adore Take in no Partners to your Fire For who well Love that Loves one more And if such Rivals in your Heart I find T is in My Power to die but not be kind A Dialogue for an Entertainment at Court between Damon and Sylvia Damon AH Sylvia if I still pursue Whilst you in vain your Scorn improve What wonders might your Eies not do If they would dress themselves in Love Silvia Shepherd you urge my Love in vain For I can ne'er Reward your pain A Slave each Smile of mine can win And all my softning Darts When e'er I please can bring me in A Thousand Yeilding Hearts Damon Yet if those Slaves you treat with Cruelty 'T is an Inglorious Victory And those unhappy Swaines you so subdue May Learn at last to scorn as well as you Your Beauty though the Gods design'd Shou'd be Ador'd by all below Yet if you want a Godlike Pittying Mind Our Adoration soon will colder grow 'T is Pitty makes a Deity Ah Silvia daine to pitty me And I will worship none but thee Sylvia Perhaps I may your Councel take And Pitty tho' not Love for Damons sake Love is a Flame my Heart ne'er knew Nor knows how to begin to burn for you Damon Ah Sylvia who 's the happy Swain For whom that Glory you ordain Has Strephon Pithius Hilus more Of Youth of Love or Flocks a greater store My flame pursues you too with that Address Which they want Passion to Profess Ah then make some Returns my Charming Shepherdess Silvia Too Faithful Shepherd I will try my Heart And if I can will give you part Damon Oh that was like your self exprest Give me but part and I will steal the rest Silvia Take care Young Swain you treat it well If you wou'd have it in your Bosom dwell Now let us to the Shades Retreat Where all the Nymphs and Shepherds meet Damon And give me there your leave my Pride to show For having but the hopes of Conquering you Where all the Swaines shall Passion learn of me And all the Nymphs to bless like thee Silvia Where every Grace I will bestow And every Look and Smile shall show How much above the rest I vallue you Damon And I those Blessings will improve By constant Faith and tender Love A Chorus of Satyrs and Nymphs made by another hand On Mr. J. H. In a Fit of Sicknesse I. IF when the God of Day retires The Pride of all the Spring decays and dies Wanting those Life-begetting Fires From whence they draw their Excellencies Each little Flower hangs down its Gawdy Head Losing the Luster which it did Retain No longer will its fragrant face be spread But Languishes into a Bud again So with the Sighing Crowd it fares Since you Amyntas have your Eies withdrawn ' Ours Lose themselves in Silent Tears Our days are Melancholy Dawn The Groves are Unfrequented now The Shady Walks are all Forlorn Who still were throng to gaze on you With Nymphs whom your Retirement has undone II. Our Bag-pipes now away are flung Our Flocks a Wandering go Garlands neglected on the Boughs are hung That us'd to adorn each Chearful Brow Forsaken looks the enameld May And all its wealth Uncourted dies Each little Bird forgets its wonted Lay That Sung Good Morrow to the welcome Day Or rather to thy Lovely Eies The Cooling Streams do backward glide Since on their Banks they saw not thee Losing the Order of their Tide And Murmuring chide they Cruelty Then hast to lose themselves i' th' Angry Sea III. Thus every thing in its Degree Thy said Retreat Deplore Hast then Amyntas and Restore The whole Worlds Loss in thee For like an Eastern Monarch when you go If such a Fate the World must know A Beautious and a Numerous Host Of Love-sick Maids will wait upon thy Ghost And Death that Secret will Reveal Which Pride and Shame did here Conceal Live then thou Lovelyest of the Plaines Thou Beauty of the Envying Swaines Whose Charms even Death it self wou'd court And of his Solemn Business make a Sport IV. In Pitty to each Sighing Maid Revive come forth be Gay and Glad Let the Young God of Love implore In Pity lend him Darts For when thy Charming Eies shall shoot no more He 'll lose his Title of the God of Hearts In Pity to Astrea live Astrea whom from all the Sighing Throng You did your oft-won Garlands give For which she paid you back in Grateful Song Astrea who did still the Glory boast To be ador'd by thee and to adore thee most V. With Pride she saw her Rivals Sigh and Pine And vainly cry'd The lovely Youth is mine By all thy Charms I do Conjure thee live By all the Joys thou canst receive and give By each Recess and Shade where thou and I Loves Secrets did Unfold And did the dull Unloving World defy VVhilst each the Hearts fond Story told If all these Conjurations nought
fierce and she less Coy Saw how they mingled melting Rays Exchanging Love a thousand ways Kind was the force on every side Her new desire she could not hide Nor wou'd the Shepherd be deny'd Impatient he waits no consent But what she gave by Languishment The blessed Minute he pursu'd While Love and Shame her Soul Subdu'd And now transported in his Arms Yeilds to the Conqueror all her Charmes His panting Breast to hers now join'd They feast on Raptures unconfin'd Vast and Luxuriant such as prove The Immortality of Love For who but a Divinitie Could mingle Souls to that Degree Now like the Phenix both Expire While from the Ashes of their fire Sprung up a new and soft desire Like Charmers thrice they did invoke The God! and thrice new vigor took Nor had the Mysterie ended there But Cloris reassum'd her fear And chid the Swain for having prest What she alas cou'd not resist Whilst he in whom Loves sacred flame Before and after was the same Fondly implor'd she wou'd forget A fault which he wou'd yet repeat From Active Joyes with some they hast To a Reflexion on the past A thousand times my Covert bless That did secure their Happiness Their Gratitude to every Tree They pay but most to happy me The Shepherdess my Bark carest Whilst he my Root Love's Pillow kist And did with sighs their Fate deplore Since I must shelter them no more And if before my Joyes were such In having heard and seen too much My Grief must be as great and high When all abandon'd I shall be Doom'd to a silent Destinie No more the Charming strife to hear The Shepherds Vows the Virgins fear No more a joyful looker on Whilst Loves soft Battel 's lost and won With grief I bow'd my murmering Head And all my Christal Dew I shed Which did in Cloris Pity move Cloris whose Soul is made of Love She cut me down and did translate My being to a happier state No Martyr for Religion di'd With half the Unconsidering Pride My top was on that Altar laid Where Love his softest Offerings paid And was as fragrant Incense burn'd My body into Busks was turn'd Where I still guard the Sacred Store And of Loves Temple keep the Door On the Death of Mr. Grinhil the Famous Painter I. WHat doleful crys are these that fright my sence Sad as the Groans of dying Innocence The killing Accents now more near Aproach And the Infectious Sound Spreads and Inlarges all around And does all Hearts with Grief and Wonder touch The famous Grinhil dead even he That cou'd to us give Immortalitie Is to the Eternal silent Groves withdrawn Those sullen Groves of Everlasting Dawn Youthful as Flowers scarce blown whose opening Leaves A wond'rous and a fragrant Prospect gives Of what it's Elder Beauties wou'd display When they should flourish up to ripning May. Witty as Poets warm'd with Love and Wine Yet still spar'd Heaven and his Friend For both to him were Sacred and Divine Nor could he this no more then that offend Fixt as a Martyr where he friendship paid And Generous as a God Distributing his Bounties all abroad And soft and gentle as a Love-sick Maid II. Great Master of the Noblest Mysterie That ever happy Knowledge did inspire Sacred as that of Poetry And which the wond'ring World does equally admire Great Natures work we do contemn When on his Glorious Births we meditate The Face and Eies more Darts receiv'd from him Then all the Charms she can create The Difference is his Beauties do beget In the inamour'd Soul a Vertuous Heat While Natures Grosser Pieces move In the course road of Common Love So bold yet soft his touches were So round each part 's so sweet and fair That as his Pencil mov'd men thought it prest The Lively imitating rising Breast Which yield like Clouds where little Angels rest The Limbs all easy as his Temper was Strong as his Mind and manly too Large as his Soul his fancy was and new And from himself he copyed every Grace For he had all that cou'd adorn a Face All that cou'd either Sex subdue III. Each Excellence he had that Youth has in its Pride And all Experienc'd Age cou'd teach At once the vigorous fire of this And every vertue which that cou'd Express In all the heights that both could reach And yet alas in this Perfection di'd Dropt like a Blossom with a Northern blast When all the scatter'd Leaves abroad are cast As quick as if his fate had been in hast So have I seen an unfit Star Out-shine the rest of all the Numerous Train As bright as that which Guides the Marriner Dart swiftly from its darken'd Sphere And nere shall light the World again IV. Ah why shou'd so much knowledge die Or with his last kind breath Why cou'd he not to some one friend bequeath The Mighty Legacie But 't was a knowledge given to him alone That his eternis'd Name might be Admir'd to all Posteritie By all to whom his grateful Name was known Come all ye softer Beauties come Bring Wreaths of Flowers to deck his tomb Mixt with the dismal Cypress and the Yew For he still gave your Charmes their due And from the injuries of Age and Time Preserv'd the sweetness of your Prime And best knew how t' adore that Sweetness too Bring all your Mournful Tributes here And let your Eyes a silent sorrow wear Till every Virgin for a while become Sad as his Fate and like his Picture 's Dumb. A Ballad on Mr. J. H. to Amoret asking why I was so sad MY Amoret since you must know The Grief you say my Eyes do show Survey my Heart where you shall find More Love then for your self confin'd And though you chide you 'l Pity too A Passion which even Rivals you Amyntas on a Holy-day As fine as any Lord of May Amongst the Nimphs and jolly Swaines That feed their Flocks upon the Plaines Met in a Grove beneath whose shade A Match of Dancing they had made His Cassock was of Green as trim As Grass upon a River brim Untoucht or sullied with a spot Unprest by either Lamb or Goat And with the Air it loosely play'd With every motion that he made His Sleeves a-many Ribbons ties Where one might read Love-Mysteries As if that way he wou'd impart To all the Sentiments of his Heart Whose Passions by those Colours known He with a Charming Pride wou'd own His Bonnet with the same was Ti'd A Silver Scrip hung by his Side His Buskins garnisht A-la-mode Were grac'd by every step he Trod Like Pan a Majesty he took And like Apollo when he spoke His Hook a Wreath of Flowers did Braid The Present of some Love-sick Maid Who all the morning had bestow'd And to her Fancy now compos'd Which fresher seem'd when near that place To whom the Giver Captive was His Eyes their best Attracts put on Designing some should be undone For he could at his pleasure move The Nymphs he
so oft before And solemnly she swore Pronounces now Amyntas Death III. But Charming Nymph beware Whilst I your Victim die Some One my Perjur'd Fair Revenging my Despair Will prove as false to thee Which yet my wandring Ghost wou'd look more pale to see For I shall break my Tomb And nightly as I rome Shall to my Silvia come And show the Piteous Sight My bleeding Bosom too Which wounds were given by you Then vanish in the Shades of Night SONG On her Loving Two Equally Set by Captain Pack I. HOw strongly does my Passion flow Divided equally 'twixt two Damon had ne'er subdu'd my Heart Had not Alexis took his part Nor cou'd Alexis pow'rful prove Without my Damons Aid to gain my Love II. When my Alexis present is Then I for Damon sigh and mourn But when Alexis I do miss Damon gains nothing but my Scorn But if it chance they both are by For both alike I languish sigh and die III. Cure then thou mighty winged God This restless Feaver in my Blood One Golden-Pointed Dart take back But which O Cupid wilt thou take If Damons all my Hopes are crost Or that of my Alexis I am lost The Counsel A Song Set by Captain Pack I. A Pox upon this needless Scorn Sylvia for shame the Cheat give o'er The End to which the Fair are botn Is not to keep their Charms in store But lavishly dispose in haste Of Joys which none but Youth improve Joys which decay when Beauty's past And who when Beauty's past will love II. When Age those Glories shall deface Revenging all your cold Disdain And Sylvia shall neglected pass By every once-admiring Swain And we no more shall Homage pay When you in vain too late shall burn If Love increase and Youth decay Ah Sylvia who will make Return III. Then haste my Sylvia to the Grove Where all the Sweets of May conspire To teach us ev'ry Art of Love And raise our Joys of Pleasure higher Where while embracing we shall lie Loosly in Shades on Beds of Flow'rs The duller World while we defie Years will be Minutes Ages Hours SONG The Surprize Set by Mr. Farmer I. PHillis whose Heart was Unconfin'd And free as Flow'rs on Meads and Plains None boasted of her being Kind ' Mong'st all the languishing and amorous Swains No Sighs or Tears the Nymph cou'd move To pity or return their Love II. Till on a time the hapless Maid Retir'd to shun the Heat o' th' Day Into a Grove beneath whose shade Strephon the careless Shepherd sleeping lay But O such Charms the Youth adorn Love is reveng'd for all her Scorn III. Her Cheeks with Blushes cover'd were And tender Sighs her Bosom warm A Softness in her Eyes appear Unusual Pain she feels from ev'ry Charm To Woods and Ecchoes now she cries For Modesty to speak denies SONG I. AH what can mean that eager Joy Transports my Heart when you appear Ah Strephon you my Thoughts imploy In all that 's Charming all that 's Dear When you your pleasing Story tell A Softness does invade each Part And I with Blushes own I feel Something too tender at my Heart II. At your approach my Blushes rise And I at once both wish and fear My wounded Soul mounts to my Eyes As it would prattle Stories there Take take that Heart that needs must go But Shepherd see it kindly us'd For who such Presents will bestow If this alas should be abus'd The Invitation A Song To a New Scotch Tune I. COme my Phillis let us improve Both our Joyes of Equal Love VVhile we in yonder Shady Grove Count Minutes by our Kisses See the Flowers how sweetly they spread And each Resigns his Gawdy Head To make for us a Fragrant Bed To practice o'er New Blisses II. The Sun it self with Love does conspire And sends abroad his ardent Fire And kindly seems to bid us retire And shade us from his Glory Then come my Phillis do not fear All that your Swain desires there Is by those Eyes a new to swear How much he does adore ye III. Phillis in vain you shed those Tears VVhy do you blush Oh speak your Fears There 's none but your Amyntas hears VVhat means this pretty Passion Can you fear your Favours will cloy Those that the Blessing does enjoy Ah no! such needless Thoughts destroy This Nicety's out of Fashion IV. When thou hast done by Pan I swear Thou wilt unto my Eyes appear A thousand times more Charming and Fair Then thou wert to my first Desire That Smile was kind and now thou' rt wise To throw away this Coy Disguise And by the vigor of thy Eyes Declare thy Youth and Fire Silvio's Complaint A SONG To a Fine Scotch Tune I. IN the Blooming Time o' th' year In the Royal Month of May Au the Heaves were glad and clear Au the Earth was Fresh and Gay A Noble Youth but all Forlorn Lig'd Sighing by a Spring 'T were better I's was nere Born Ere wisht to be a King II. Then from his Starry Eyne Muckle Showers of Christal Fell To bedew the Roses Fine That on his Cheeks did dwell And ever 'twixt his Sighs he 'd cry How Bonny a Lad I 'd been Had I weys me nere Aim'd high Or wisht to be a King III. With Dying Clowdy Looks Au the Fields and Groves he kens Au the Gleeding Murmuring Brooks Noo his Unambitious Friends Tol which he eance with Mickle Cheer His Bleating Flocks woud bring And crys woud God I 'd dy'd here Ere wisht to be a King IV. How oft in Yonder Mead Cover'd ore with Painted Flowers Au the Dancing Youth I 've led Where we past our Blether Hours In Yonder Shade in Yonder Grove How Blest the Nymphs have been Ere I for Pow'r Debaucht Love Or wisht to be a King V. Not add the Arcadian Swains In their Pride and Glory Clad Not au the Spacious Plains Ere coud Boast a Bleether Lad. When ere I Pip'd or Danc'd or Ran Or leapt or whirl'd the Sling The Flowry Wreaths I still won And wisht to be a King VI. But Curst be yon Tall Oak And Old Thirsis be accurst There I first my peace forsook There I learnt Ambition first Such Glorious Songs of Hero's Crown'd The Restless Swain woud Sing My Soul unknown desires found And Languisht to be King VII Ye Garlands wither now Fickle Glories vanish all Ye Wreaths that deckt my Brow To the ground neglected fall No more my sweet Repose molest Nor to my Fancies bring The Golden Dreams of being Blest With Titles of a King VIII Ye Noble Youths beware Shun Ambitious powerful Tales Distructive False and Fair Like the Oceans Flattering Gales See how my Youth and Glories lye Like Blasted Flowers i' th' Spring My Fame Renown and all dye For wishing to be King In Imitation of Horace I. WHat mean those Amorous Curles of Jet For what heart-Ravisht Maid Dost thou thy Hair in order set Thy Wanton Tresses Braid And thy vast Store of Beauties open lay
of Love is still at enmity She keeps a glorious Train and glorious Court And thither Youth and Beauty still resort But oh my Soul form'd for Loves softer Sport Cou'd not endure the Rigor of her Court Which her first rude Address did so affright That I all Trembling hasted from her Sight Leaving the unconcern'd and cruel Maid And on a Rivers Bank my self all fainting laid Which River from the obdurate Rock proceeds And cast's it self i' th' Melancholy Meads The River of Despair IT s Torrent has no other source But Tears from dying Lovers Eyes Which mixt with Sighs precipitates its course Softning the sensless Rocks in gliding by Whose doleful Murmurs have such Eloquence That even the neighbouring Trees and flow'rs have pitying sense And Cruelty alone knows in what sort Against the moving sound to make defence Who laughs at all despair and Death as sport A dismal Wood the Rivers Banks do bear Securing even the day from entering there The Suns bright Rays a passage cannot find Whose Boughs make constant War against the Wind Yet though their Leaves glimmers a sullen Light Which renders all below more terrible than Night And snows upon the Bark of every Tree Sad stories carv'd of Love and Cruelty The Grove is fill'd with Sighs with Crys and Groans Reproaches and Complaints in dying Moans The Neighbouring Eccho's nothing do repeat But what the Soul sends forth with sad regret And all things there no other Murmurs make But what from Language full of death they take 'T was in this place dispairing ere to free Aminta from the Arms of Cruelty That I design'd to render up my Breath And charge the cruel Charmer with my Death The RESOLVE NOw my fair Tyrant I despise your Pow'r 'T is Death not you becomes my Conqueror This easy Trophy which your scorn Led bleeding by your Chariot-side Your haughty Victory to adorn Has broke the Fetters of your Pride Death takes his quarrel now in hand And laughs at all your Eyes can do His pow'r thy Beauty can withstand Not all your Smiles can the grim victor bow He 'll hold no Parley with your Wit Nor understands your wanton play Not all your Arts can force him to submit Not all your Charms can teach him to obey Your youth nor Beauty can inspire His frozen Heart with Love's perswasive fire Alas you cannot warm him to one soft desire Oh mighty Death that art above The pow'r of Beauty or of Love Thus sullen with my Fate sometimes I grew And then a fit of softness wou'd ensue Then weep and on my Knees implore my Fair And speak as if Aminta present were The QUESTION SAY my fair Charmer must I fall A Victim to your Cruelty And must I suffer as a Criminal Is it to Love offence enough to dye Is this the recompence at last Of all the restless hours I 've past How oft my Awe and my Respect Have fed your Pride and Scorn How h 〈…〉 your neglect Too mighty to be born How have I strove to hide that flame You seem'd to dis-approve How careful to avoid the name Of Tenderness or Love Least at that Word some guilty Blush shou'd own What your bright Eyes forbad me to make known Thus fill'd the neighbouring Eccho's with my Cry Did nothing but reproach complain and dye One day All hopeless on the Rivers Brink I stood Resolv'd to plunge into the Rapid Floud That Floud that eases Lovers in despair And puts an end to all their raging care 'T is hither those betray'd by Beauty come And from this kinder stream receive their doom Here Birds of Ominous presages Nest Securing the forlorn Inhabitants from rest Here Mid-night-Owls night-Crows and Ravens dwell Filling the Air with Melancholy Yell Here swims a thousand Swans whose doleful moan Sing dying Lovers Requiems with their own I gaz'd around and many Lovers view'd Gastly and pale who my design pursu'd But most inspir'd by some new hope or won To finish something they had left undone Some grand Important bus'ness of their Love Did from the fatal precipice remove For me no Reason my designs disswade Till Love all Breathless hasted to my Aid With force m' unfixing Feet he kindly graspt And tenderly reproacht my desperate hast Reproach'd my Courage and condemn'd my Wit That meanly cou'd t' a Womans scorn submit That cou'd to feed her Pride and make her vain Destroy an Age of Life for a short date of pain He wou'd have left me here but that I made So many friendships as did soon perswade The yielding Boy who Smil'd resolv'd and staid He rais'd my Head and did again renew His Flatteries and all the Arts he knew To call my Courage to its wonted place What cry'd he sweetly Angry shall a Face Arm'd with the weak resistance of a Frown Force us to lay our Claims and Titles down Shall Cruelty a peevish Woman prove Too strong to be overcome by Youth and Love No! rally all thy Vigor all thy Charms And force her from the cruel Tyrants Arms Come once more try th' incens'd Maid to appease Death 's in our pow'r to grasp when ere we please He said And I the heavenly voice attend Whilst towards the Rock our hasty steps we bend Before the Gates with all our forces lye Resolv'd to Conquer or resolv'd to dye In vain Love all his feeble Engines rears His soft Artillery of Sighs and Tears Were all in vain against the Winds were sent For she was proof 'gainst them and languishment Repeated Vows and Prayers mov'd no Remorse And 't was to Death alone I had Recourse Love in my Anguish bore a mighty part He pityed but he cou'd not ease my Heart A thousand several ways he had assay'd To touch the Heart of this obdurate Maid Rebated all his Arrow 's still return For she was fortify'd with Pride and Scorn The useless Weapons now away he flung Neglected lay his Ivory Bow unstrung His gentle Azure Wings were all unprun'd And the gay Plumes a fading Tinct assum'd Which down his snowy sides extended lay And now no more in wanton Motions play He blusht to think he had not left one dart Of force enough to wound Aminta's Heart He blusht to think she shou'd her freedom boast Whilst mine from the first Dart he sent was lost Thus tir'd with our Complaints whilst no relief Rescu'd the fleeting Soul from killing Grief We saw a Maid approach who 's lovely Face Disdain'd the Beauties of the common race Soft were her Eyes where unfeign'd Sorrow dwelt And on her Cheeks in pitying Show'rs they melt Soft was her Voice and tenderly it strook The eager listening Soul when e're she spoke And what did yet my Courage more augment She wore this sadness for my languishment And sighing said ah Gods have you Beheld this dying Youth and never found A pity for a Heart so true Which dyes adoring her that gave the Wound His Youth his Passion and his Constancy Merits ye God's a kinder Destiny With
make me wish to Live From Duty now the lovely Maid is freed And calls me from my lonely solitude Whose cruel Memory in a Moments space The thoughts of coming Pleasures quite deface With an impatient Lovers hast I flew To the vast Blessing Love had set in view But oh I found Aminta in a place Where never any Lover happy was RIVALS RIvals 't is call'd a Village where The Inhabitants in Fury still appear Malicious paleness or a generous red O'r every angry face is spread Their Eyes are either smiling with disdain Or fiercely glow with raging Fire Gloomy and sullen with dissembl'd pain Love in the Heart Revenge in the desire Combates Duels Challenges Is the discourse and all the busness there Respect of Blood nor sacred friendship tyes Can reconcile the Civil War Rage Horror Death and wild despair Are still Rencounter'd and still practis'd there 'T was here the lovely cruel Maid I found Incompass'd with a thousand Lovers round At my approach I saw their Blushes rise And they regarded me with angry Eyes Aminta too or else my Fancy 't was Receiv'd me with a shy and cold Address I cou'd not speak but Sigh'd retir'd and Bow'd With pain I heard her Talk and Laugh aloud And deal her Freedoms to the greedy Crowd I Curst her Smiles and envy'd every look And Swore it was too kind what e're she spoke Condemn'd her Air rail'd on her soft Address And vow'd her Eyes did her false Heart confess And vainly wisht their Charming Beauties less A Secret hatred in my Soul I bear Against these objects of my new despair I waited all the day and all in vain Not one lone minute snatcht to ease my pain Her Lovers went and came in such a sort It rather seem'd Loves-Office than his Court Made for eternal Bus'ness not his Sport Love saw my pain and found my rage grew high And led me off to lodge at Iealousie JEALOUSIE I. A Palace that is more un-easy far Then those of cruelty and absence are There constant show'rs of Hail and Rains do flow Continual Murmuring VVinds a-round do blow Eternal Thunder rowling in the Air And thick dark hanging Clouds the day obscure Whose sullen dawn all Objects multiplies And render things that are not to the Eyes Fantoms appear by the dull gloomy light That with such subtil Art delude the sight That one can see no Object true or right I here transported and impatient grow And all things out of order do Hasty and peevish every thing I say Suspicion and distrust's my Passions sway And bend all Nature that un-easy way II. A thousand Serpents gnaw the Heart A thousand Visions fill the Eyes Aud Deaf to all that can relief impart We hate the Counsel of the Wise And Sense like Tales of Lunaticks despise Faithless as Couzen'd Maids by Men undone And obstinate as new Religion As full of Error and false Notion too As Dangerous and as Politick As Humerous as a Beauty without Wit As Vain and Fancyful in all we do Thus Wreck the Soul as if it did conceal Love Secrets which by torturing ' t wo'd reveal Restless and wild ranging each Field and Grove I meet the Author of my painful Love But still surrounded with a numerous Train Of Lovers whom Love taught to Sigh and Fawn At my approach my Soul all Trembling flies And tells its soft Resentment at my Eyes My Face all pale my steps unsteady fall And faint Confusion spreads it self o're all I listen to each low breath'd Word she says And the returns the happy Answerer pays When catching half the Sense the rest Invent And turn it still to what will most Torment If any thing by Whispers she impart 'T is Mortal 't is a Dagger at my Heart And every Smile each Motion Gesture Sign In favour of some Lover I explain When I am absent in some Rivals Arms I Fancy she distributes all her Charms And if alone I find her sighing cry Some happier Lover she expects than I. So that I did not only Jealous grow Of all I saw but all I fancy'd too The COMPLAINT I. OFT in my Iealous Transports I wou'd cry Ye happy shades ye happy Bow'rs Why speaks she tenderer things to you than me Why does she Smile carress and praise your Flowers Why Sighs she opening Buds her Secrets all Into your fragrant Leaves Why does she to her Aid your sweetness call Yet take less from you than she gives Why on your Beds must you be happy made And be together with Aminta laid You from her Hands and Lips my KISSES take And never meet Reproaches from her Pride A thousand Ravishing stealths may make And even into her softer Bosome glide And there expire Oh happy Rival flowers How vainly do I wish my Fate like that of Yours II. Tell me ye silent Groves whose Gloom invites The lovely Charmer to your Solitudes Tell me for whom she languishes and sighs For whom she feels her soft Inquietudes Name me the Youth for whom she makes her Vows For she has breath'd it oft amongst your listening Boughs Oh happy confidents of her Amours How vainly do I wish my Fortune blest as Yours III. Oh happy Brooks oh happy Rivulets And Springs that in a thousand Windings move Vpon your Banks how oft Aminta sits And prattles to you all her Tale of Love Whilst your smooth surface little Circles bears From the Impressions of her falling Tears And as you wantonly reflecting pass Glide o're the lovely Image of her Face And sanctifies your stream which as you run You Boast in Murmurs to the Banks along Dear streams to whom she gives her softest hours How vainly do I wish my happiness like yours Sometimes I rail'd again and wou'd upbraid Reproachfully the charming fickle Maid Sometimes I vow'd to do 't no more But one vain short-liv'd hour Wou'd Perjure all I 'd Sworn before And Damn my fancy'd Pow'r Sometimes the sullen fit wou'd last A teadious live-long day But when the wrecking hours were past With what Impatience wou'd I hast And let her Feet weep my neglect away Quarrels are the Reserves Love keeps in store To aid his Flames and make 'em burn the more The PENITENT I. WIth Rigor Arm your self I cry'd It is but just and fit I merit all this Treatment from your Pride All the reproaches of your VVit Put on the cruel Tyrant as you will But know my tender Heart adores you still II. And yet that Heart has Murmur'd too And been so insolent to let you know It did complain and rave and rail'd at you Yet all the while by every God I swear By every pitying Pow'r the wretched here By all those Charms that dis-ingage My Soul from the extreams of Rage By all the Arts you have to save and kill My faithful tender Heart adores you still III. But oh you shou'd excuse my soft complaint Even my wild Ravings too prefer I sigh I burn I weep I faint And vent my Passions to the Air