under London-bridge in the QUEENS Bardge Anno 1641. THe Darling of a Father Good and Wise The Vertue which a Vertuous Age did prize The Beauty Excellent even to those were Faire Subscrib'd unto by such as might compare The Star that 'bove her Orb did always move And yet the Noblest did not Hate but Love And those who most upon their Title stood Vail'd also to because she did more Good To whom the Wrong'd and Worthy did resort And held their Sutes obtain'd if only brought The highest Saint in all the Heav'n of Court So Noble was her Aire so Great her Meen She seem'd a Friend not Servant to the Queen To Sin if known she never did give way Vice could not Storm her could it not betray When angry Heav'n extinguisht her fair Light It seem'd to say Nought's Precious in my sight As I in Waves this Paragon have drown'd The Nation next and King I will confound On a young Lady Whose LORD was Travelling NO sooner I pronounced Celindas name But Troops of wing'd Pow'rs did chant the same Not those the Poets Bows and Arrows lend But such as on the Altar do attend Celinda nam'd Flow'rs spring up from the Ground Excited meerly with the Charming Sound Celinda the Courts Glory and its fear The gaz'd at Wonder where she does appear Celinda great in Birth greater in Meen Yet none so humble as this Fair-One's seen Her Youth and Beauty justly might disdain But the least Pride her Glories ne're did stain Celinda of each State th' ambitious Strife At once a Noble Virgin and a Wife Who while her Gallant Lord in Forraign parts Adorns his Youth with all accomplisht Arts Grows ripe at home in Vertue more than Years And in each Grace a Miracle appears When other of her Age a madding go To th' Park and Plays and ev'ry publick Show Proud from their Parents Bondage they have broke Though justly freed she still does wear the Yoke Preferring more her Mothers Friend to be Than Idol of the Towns Loose-Gallantry On her she to the Temple does attend Where they their Blessed Hours both save and spend They Smile they Joy together they do Pray You 'd think two Bodies did One Soul obey Like Angels thus they do reflect their Bliss And their bright Vertues each the other kiss Return young Lord while thou abroad dost rome The World to see thou loosest Heaven at Home ON THE Dutchess of Grafton Vnder the Name of ALINDA A Song I. TH' ambitious Eye that seeks alone Where Beauties Wonders most are shown Of all that bounteous Heaven displays Let him on bright Alinda gaze And in her high Example see All can admir'd or wisht-for be II. An unmatch't Form Mind like endow'd Estate and Title great and proud A Charge Heaven dares to few commit So few like her can manage it Without all Blame or Envy bear The being Witty Great and Fair III. So well these Murd'ring Weapons weild As first Herself with them to shield Then slaughter none in proud Disport Destroy those she invites to Gourt Great are her Charmes but Vertue more She wounds no Hearts though All adore IV. 'T is Am'rous Beauty Love invites A Passion like it self excites The Paragon though all admire Kindles in none a fond desire No more than those the Kings Renown And State applaud affect his Crown These following Fragments among many more were found among her Papers Penelope to Ulysses REturn my dearest Lord at length return Let me no longer your sad absence mourn Ilium in Dust does no more Work afford No more Employment for your Wit or Sword Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy Helin the Fire-brand both of Greece and Troy E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe Which now both Greece and Phrygia over-flow Then I these many Teares should not have shed Nor thou the source of them to War been led I should not then have trembled at the Fame Of Hectors warlike and victorious Name Why did I wish the Noble Hector Slain Why Ilium ruin'd Rise O rise again Again great City flourish from thine Urne For though thou' rt burn'd my Lord does not return Sometimes I think but O most Cruel Thought That for thy Absence th' art thy self in fault That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame Who when thou fired'st Troy did thee inflame And now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life Forgetful and despising of thy Wife An Epitaph on her Self WHen I am Dead few Friends attend my Hearse And for a Monument I leave my VERSE An ODE A Rise my Dove from mid'st of Pots arise Thy sully'd Habitation leave To Dust no longer cleave Unworthy they of Heaven that will not view the Skies Thy native Beauty re-assume Prune each neglected Plume Till more than Silver white Then burnisht Gold more bright Thus ever ready stand to take thy Eternal Flight II. The Bird to whom the spacious Aire was given As in a smooth and trackless Path to go A Walk which does no Limits know Pervious alone to Her and Heaven Should she her Airy Race forget On Earth affect to walk and sit Should she so high a Priviledge neglect As still on Earth to walk and sit affect What could she of Wrong complain Who thus her Birdly Kind doth stain If all her Feathers moulted were And naked she were left and bare The Jest and Scorn of Earth and Aire III. The Bird of Paradice the Soul Extemporary Counsel given to a Young Gallant in a Frolick AS you are Young if you 'l be also Wise Danger with Honour court Quarrels despise Believe you then are truly Brave and Bold To Beauty when no Slave and less to Gold When Vertue you dare own not think it odd Or ungenteel to say I fear a God These Three following ODES being found among Mrs Killigrews Papers I was willing to Print though none of hers Cloris Charmes Dissolved by EUDORA I. NOt that thy Fair Hand Should lead me from my deep Dispaire Or thy Love Cloris End my Care And back my Steps command But if hereafter thou Retire To quench with Tears thy Wandring Fire This Clue I 'll leave behinde By which thou maist untwine The Saddest Way To shun the Day That ever Grief did find II. First take thy Hapless Way Along the Rocky Northern Shore Infamous for the Matchless Store Of Wracks within that Bay None o're the Cursed Beach e're crost Unless the Robb'd the Wrack'd or Lost Where on the Strand lye spread The Sculls of many Dead Their mingl'd Bones Among the Stones Thy Wretched Feet must tread III. The Tiees along the Coast Stretch forth to Heaven their blasted Arms As if they plaind the North-winds harms And-Youthful Verdure lost There stands a Grove of Fatal Ewe Where Sun nere pierc't nor Wind ere blew In it a Brooke doth fleet The Noise must guide thy Feet For there 's no Light But all is Night And
to thy State and Birth Things so incompatible should be joyn'd Passions should thee confound to Heaven assign'd Passions that do the Soul unguarded lay And to the strokes of Fortune ope ' a way Were 't not that these thy Force did from thee take How bold how brave Resistance would'st thou make Defie the Strength and Malice of thy Foes Unmoved stand the Worlds United Blows For what is 't Man unto thy Better Part That thou or Sick or Poor or Captive art Since no Material Stroke the Soul can feel The smart of Fire or yet the Edge of Steel As little can it Worldly Joys partake Though it the Body does its Agent make And joyntly with it Servile Labour bear For Things alas in which it cannot share Surveigh the Land and Sea by Heavens embrac't Thou 'lt find no sweet th' Immortal Soul can tast Why dost thou then O Man thy self torment Good here to gain or Evils to prevent Who only Miserable or Happy art As thou neglects or wisely act'st thy Part. For shame then rouse thy self as from a Sleep The long neglected Reins let Reason keep The Charret mount and use both Lash and Bit Nobly resolve and thou wilt firmly sit Fierce Anger boggling Fear Pride prauncing still Bounds-hating Hope Desire which nought can fill Are stubborn all but thou may'st give them Law Th' are hard-Mouth'd Horses but they well can draw Lash on and the well govern'd Charret drive Till thou a Victor at the Goal arrive Where the free Soul does all her burden leave And Joys commensurate to her self receive Vpon the saying that my VERSES were made by another NExt Heaven my Vows to thee O Sacred Muse I offer'd up nor didst thou them refuse O Queen of Verse said I if thou 'lt inspire And warm my Soul with thy Poetique Fire No Love of Gold shall share with thee my Heart Or yet Ambition in my Brest have Part More Rich more Noble I will ever hold The Muses Laurel than a Crown of Gold An Undivided Sacrifice I 'le lay Upon thine Altar Soul and Body pay Thou shalt my Pleasure my Employment be My All I 'le make a Holocaust to thee The Deity that ever does attend Prayers so sincere to mine did condescend I writ and the Judicious prais'd my Pen Could any doubt Insuing Glory then What pleasing Raptures fill'd my Ravisht Sense How strong how Sweet Fame was thy Influence And thine False Hope that to my flatter'd sight Didst Glories represent so Near and Bright By thee deceiv'd methought each Verdant Tree Apollos transform'd Daphne seem'd to be And ev'ry fresher Branch and ev'ry Bow Appear'd as Garlands to empale my Brow The Learn'd in Love say Thus the Winged Boy Does first approach drest up in welcome Joy At first he to the Cheated Lovers sight Nought represents but Rapture and Delight Alluring Hopes Soft Fears which stronger bind Their Hearts than when they more assurance find Embolden'd thus to Fame I did commit By some few hands my most Unlucky Wit But ah the sad effects that from it came What ought t' have brought me Honour brought me shame Like Esops Painted Jay I seem'd to all Adorn'd in Plumes I not my own could call Rifl'd like her each one my Feathers tore And as they thought unto the Owner bore My Laurels thus an Others Brow adorn'd My Numbers they Admir'd but Me they scorn'd An others Brow that had so rich a store Of Sacred Wreaths that circled it before Where mine quite lost like a small stream that ran Into a Vast and Boundless Ocean Was swallow'd up with what it joyn'd and drown'd And that Abiss yet no Accession found Orinda Albions and her Sexes Grace Ow'd not her Glory to a Beauteous Face It was her Radiant Soul that shon With-in Which struk a Lustre through her Outward Skin That did her Lips and Cheeks with Roses dy Advanc't her Height and Sparkled in her Eye Nor did her Sex at all obstruct her Fame But higher 'mong the Stars it fixt her Name What she did write not only all allow'd But ev'ry Laurel to her Laurel bow'd Th' Envious Age only to Me alone Will not allow what I do write my Own But let 'em Rage and 'gainst a Maide Conspire So Deathless Numbers from my Tuneful Lyre Do ever flow so Phebus I by thee Divinely Inspired and possest may be I willingly accept Cassandras Fate To speak the Truth although believ'd too late On the Birth-Day of Queen Katherine WHile yet it was the Empire of the Night And Stars still check'r'd Darkness with their Light From Temples round the cheerful Bells did ring But with the Peales a churlish Storm did sing I slumbr'd and the Heavens like things did show Like things which I had seen and heard below Playing on Harps Angels did singing fly But through a cloudy and a troubl'd Sky Some fixt a Throne and Royal Robes display'd And then a Massie Cross upon it laid I wept and earnestly implor'd to know Why Royal Ensigns were disposed so An Angel said The Emblem thou hast seen Denotes the Birth-Day of a Saint and Queen Ah Glorious Minister I then reply'd Goodness and Bliss together do reside In Heaven and thee why then on Earth below These two combin'd so rarely do we know He said Heaven so decrees and such a Sable Morne Was that in which the Son of God was borne Then Mortal wipe thine Eyes and cease to rave God darkn'd Heaven when He the World did save TO My Lord Colrane In Answer to his Complemental Verses sent me under the Name of CLEANOR LOng my dull Muse in heavy slumbers lay Indulging Sloth and to soft Ease gave way Her Fill of Rest resolving to enjoy Or fancying little worthy her employ When Noble Cleanors obliging Strains Her the neglected Lyre to tune constrains Confus'd at first she rais'd her drowsie Head Ponder'd a while then pleas'd forsook her Bed Survey'd each Line with Fancy richly fraught Re-read and then revolv'd them in her Thought And can it be she said and can it be That 'mong the Great Ones I a Poet see The Great Ones who their Ill-spent time devide 'Twixt dang'rous Politicks and formal Pride Destructive Vice expensive Vanity In worse Ways yet if Worse there any be Leave to Inferiours the despised Arts Let their Retainers be the Men of Parts But here with Wonder and with Joy I find I'th'Noble Born a no less Noble Mind One who on Ancestors does not rely For Fame in Merit as in Title high The Severe Godess thus approv'd the Laies Yet too much pleas'd alas with her own Praise But to vain Pride My Muse cease to give place Virgils immortal Numbers once did grace A Smother'd Gnat by high Applause is shown If undeserv'd the Praisers worth alone Nor that you should believ 't is't always meant 'T is often for Instruction only sent To praise men to Amendment and display By its Perfection where their Weakness lay This Use of these Applauding Numbers make Them for
Serpents sting the poisonous Achonite While helpless Love upbraids your baffl'd skill And far more certain than the rest doth kill Alin. Fond Swain go dote upon the new blown Rose Whose Beauty with the Morning did disclose And e're Days King forsakes th'enlighted Earth Wither'd returns from whence it took its Birth As much Excuse will there thy Love attend As what thou dost on Womens Beauty spend Amin. Ah Nymph those Charms which I in thee admire Can nor before nor with thy Life expire From Heaven they are and such as ne're can dye But with thy Soul they will ascend the Sky For though my ravisht Eye beholds in Thee Such beauty as I can in none else see That Nature there alone is without blame Yet did not this my faithful Heart enflame Nor when in Dance thou mov'st upon the Plaine Or other Sports pursu'st among the Train Of choicest Nymphs where thy attractive Grace Shews thee alone though thousands be in place Yet not for these do I Alinda love Hear then what 't is that does my Passion move That Thou still Earliest at the Temple art And still the last that does from thence depart Paus Altar is by thee the oftnest prest Thine's still the fairest Offering and the Best And all thy other Actions seem to be The true Result of Unseign'd Piety Strict in thy self to others Just and Mild Careful nor to Deceive nor be Beguil'd Wary without the least Offence to live Yet none than thee more ready to forgive Even on thy Beauty thou dost Fetters lay Least unawares it any should betray Far unlike sure to many of thy Sex Whose Pride it is the doting World to vex Spreading their Universal Nets to take Who e're their artifice can captive make But thou command'st thy Sweet but Modest Eye That no Inviting Glance from thence should fly Beholding with a Gen'rous Disdain The lighter Courtships of each amorous Swain Knowing true Fame Vertue alone can give Nor dost thou greedily even that receive And what 'bove this thy Character can raise Thirsty of Merit yet neglecting Praise While daily these Perfections I discry Matchless Alinda makes me daily dy Thou absent Flow'rs to me no Odours yield Nor find I freshness in the dewy Field Not Thyrsis Voice nor Melibeus Lire Can my Sad Heart with one Gay Thought inspire My thriving Flock 'mong Shepherds Vows the Chief I unconcern'd behold as they my Grief This I profess if this thou not believe A further proof I ready am to give Command there 's nothing I 'le not undertake And thy Injunctions Love will easie make Ah if thou couldst incline a gentle Ear Of plighted Faith and hated Hymen hear Thou hourly then my spotless Love should'st see That all my Study how to please should be How to protect thee from disturbing Care And in thy Griefs to bear the greatest share Nor should a Joy my Warie Heart surprize That first I read not in thy charming Eyes Alin. If ever I to any do impart My till this present hour well-guarded Heart That Passion I have fear'd I 'le surely prove For one that does like to Amintor love Amintor Ye Gods Alin. Shepherd no more enough it is that I Thus long to Love have listn'd patiently Farewel Pan keep thee Swain Amintor And Blessings Thee Rare as thy Vertues still accompany A Pastoral Dialogue Melibaeus Alcippe Asteria Licida Alcimedon and Amira Melibaeus WElcome fair Nymphs most welcome to this shade Distemp'ring Heats do now the Plains invade But you may sit from Sun securely here If you an old mans company not fear Alcippe Most Reverend Swaine far from us ever be The imputation of such Vanity From Hill to Holt w 'ave thee unweary'd sought And bless the Chance that us hath hither brought Asteria Fam'd Melibaeus for thy Virtuous Lays If thou dost not disdain our Female Praise We come to sue thou would'st to us recite One of thy Songs which gives such high delight To ev'ry Eare wherein thou dost dispense Sage Precepts cloath'd in flowing Eloquence Licida Fresh Garlands we will make for thee each morne Thy reverend Head to shade and to adorne To cooling Springs thy fainting Flock we 'll guide All thou command'st to do shall be our Pride Meli. Cease gentle Nymphs the Willing to entreat To have your Wish each needs but take a Seat With joy I shall my ancient Art revive With which when Young I did for Glory strive Nor for my Verse will I accept a Hire Your bare Attentions all I shall require Alci Lo from the Plain I see draw near a Pair That I could wish in our Converse might share Amira 't is and young Alcimedon Lici Serious Discourse industriously they shun Alci It being yet their luck to come this way The Fond Ones to our Lecture we 'll betray And though they only sought a private shade Perhaps they may depart more Vertuous made I will accost them Gentle Nymph and Swaine Good Melibaeus us doth entertain With Lays Divine if you 'll his Hearers be Take streight your Seats without Apology Alci Paying short thanks at fair Amiras feet I 'le lay me down let her choose where 't is meet Al. Shepherd behold we all attentive sit Meli. What shall I sing what shall my Muse reherse Love is a Theme well sutes a Past'ral Verse That gen'ral Error Universal Ill That Darling of our Weakness and our Will By which though many fall few hold it shame Smile at the Fault which they would seem to blame What wonder then if those with Mischief play It to destruction them doth oft betray But by experience it is daily found That Love the softer Sex does sorest wound In Mind as well as Body far more weak Than Men therefore to them my Song shall speak Advising well however it succeed But unto All I say Of Love take heed So hazardous because so hard to know On whom they are we do our Hearts bestow How they will use them or with what regard Our Faith and high Esteem they will reward For few are found that truly acted be By Principles of Generosity That when they know a Virgins Heart they 've gain'd And though by many Vows and Arts obtain'd Will think themselves oblig'd their Faith to hold Tempted by Friends by Interest or by Gold Expect it not most Love their Pastime make Lightly they Like and lightly they forsake Their Roving Humour wants but a pretence With Oaths and what 's most Sacred to dispence When unto such a Maid has given her Heart And said Alone my Happiness thou art In thee and in thy Truth I place my Rest. Her sad Surprize how can it be exprest When all on which she built her Joy she finds Vanish like Clouds disperst before the Winds Her self who th'adored Idol wont to be A poor despis'd Idolater to see Regardless Tears she may profusely spend Unpitty'd sighs her tender Breast may rend But the false Image she will ne're erace Though far unworthy still to hold its
place So hard it is even Wiser grown to take Th' Impression out which Fancy once did make Believe me Nymphs believe my hoary hairs Truth and Experience waits on many years Before the Eldest of you Light beheld A Nymph we had in Beauty all excell'd Rodanthe call'd in whom each Grace did shine Could make a Mortal Maid appear Divine And none could say where most her Charms did lye In her inchanting Tongue or conquering Eye Her Vertue yet her Beauties so out-shon As Beauty did the Garments she put on Among the Swains which here their Flocks then fed Alcander with the highest held his head The most Accomplish't was esteem'd to be Of comely Forme well-grac't Activity The Muses too like him did none inspire None so did stop the Pipe or touch the Lyre Sweet was his Voice and Eloquent his Tongue Alike admired when he Spoke or Sung But these so much Excelling parts the Swain With Imperfections no less Great did stain For proud he was of an Ungovern'd Will With Love Familiar but a Stranger still To Faith and Constancy and did his Heart Retaining none expose to ev'ry Dart. Hapless Rodanthe the Fond Rover caught To whom for Love with usual Arts he sought Which she ah too unwary did bestow 'Cause True her self believ'd that he was so But he alas more wav'ring than the Wind Streight broke the Chain she thought so fast did bind For he no sooner saw her Heart was gain'd But he as soon the Victory disdain'd Mad Love else-where as if 't were like Renown Hearts to subdue as to take in a Town But in the One as Manhood does prevail Both Truth and Manhood in the other fail And now the Nymph of late so gay and bright The Glory of the Plains and the Delight Who still in Wit and Mirth all Pastimes led Hung like a wither'd Flow'r her drooping Head I need not tell the Grief Rodanthe found How all that should asswage enrag'd her Wound Her Form her Fame her Vertue Riches Wit Like Deaths sad Weights upon her Soul did sit Or else like Furies stood before her Face Still urging and Upbraiding her Disgrace In that the World could yield her no Content But what alone the False Alcander sent 'T was said through just Disdain at last she broke The Disingenious and Unworthy Yoke But this I know her Passion held long time Constancy though Unhappy is no Crime Remember when you Love from that same hour Your Peace you put into your Lovers Power From that same hour from him you Laws receive And as he shall ordain you Joy or Grieve Hope Fear Laugh Weep Reason aloof does stand Disabl'd both to Act and to Command Oh Cruel Fetters rather wish to feel On your soft Limbs the Gauling Weight of Steel Rather to bloudy Wounds oppose your Breast No Ill by which the Body can be prest You will so sensible a Torment find As Shackles on your captivated Mind The Mind from Heaven its high Descent did draw And brooks uneasily any other Law Than what from Reason dictated shall be Reason a kind of In-mate Deity Which only can adapt to ev'ry Soul A Yoke so fit and light that the Controle All Liberty excels so sweet a Sway The same 't is to be Happy and Obey Commands so Wise and with Rewards so drest That the according Soul replys I 'm Blest This teaches rightly how to Love and Hate To fear and hope by Measure and just Weight What Tears in Grief ought from our Eyes to flow What Transport in Felicity to show In ev'ry Passion how to steer the Will Tho rude the Shock to keep it steady still Oh happy Mind what words can speak thy Bliss When in a Harmony thou mov'ft like this Your Hearts fair Virgins keep smooth as your Brow Not the least Am'rous Passion there allow Hold not a Parly with what may betray Your inward Freedom to a Forraign Sway And while thus ore your selves you Queens remain Unenvy'd ore the World let others reign The highest Joy which from Dominion flows Is short of what a Mind well-govern'd knows Whither my Muse would'st uncontrouled run Contend in Motion with the restless Sun Immortal thou but I a mortal Sire Exhaust my strength and Hearers also tire Al. O Heaven-taught Bard to Ages couldst prolong Thy Soul-instructing Health-infusing Song I with unweary'd Appetite could hear And wish my Senses were turn'd all to Ear. Alcim Old Man thy frosty Precepts well betray Thy Blood is cold and that thy Head is grey Who past the Pleasure Love and Youth can give To spoyl't in others now dost only live Wouldst thou indeed if so thou couldst perswade The Fair whose Charms have many Lovers made Should feel Compassion for no one they wound But be to all Inexorable found Me. Young man if my advice thou well hadst weigh'd Thou would'st have found for either Sex 't was made And would from Womens Beauty thee no less Preserve than them secure from thy Address But let thy Youth thy rash Reproach excuse Alci Fairest Amira let him not abuse Thy gentle Heart by his imprinting there His doting Maxims But I will not fear For when 'gainst Love he fiercest did inveigh Methoughts I saw thee turn with Scorn away Ami. Alcimedon according to his Will Does all my Words and Looks interpret still But I shall learn at length how to Disdain Or at the least more cunningly to feign Alci No wonder thou Alcimedon art rude When with no Gen'rous Quality endu'd But hop'st by railing Words Vice to defend Which Foulers made by having such a Friend Amira thou art warn'd wisely beware Leap not with Open-Eyes into the Snare The Faith that 's given to thee was given before To Nais Amoret and many more The Perjur'd did the Gods to Witness call That unto each he was the only Thrall Aste Y 'ave made his Cheeks with Conscious blushes glow Alci 'T is the best Colour a False Heart can show And well it is with Guilt some shame remains Meli. Hast Shepherd hast to cleanse away thy stains Let not thy Youth of Time the goodly spring Neglected pass that nothing forth it bring But noxious Weeds which cultivated might Produce such Crops as now would thee delight And give thee after Fame For Vertues Fruit Believe it not alone with Age does sute Nought adorns Youth like to a Noble Mind In thee this Union let Amira find Lici O fear her not she 'l serve him in his kind Meli. See how Discourse upon the Time does prey Those hours pass swiftest that we talk away Declining Sol forsaken hath the Fields And Mountains highest Summits only gildes Which warns us home-wards with our Flocks to make Alci Along with thee our Thanks and Praises take Aste In which our Hearts do all in One unite Lici Our Wishes too That on thy Head may light What e're the Gods as their Best Gifts bestow Meli. Kind Nymphs on you may Equal Blessings flow On my Aunt Mrs A. K. Drown'd
Mrs Anne Killigrew Painted by her self I Beckett 〈◊〉 POEMS BY Mrs Anne Killigrew Immodicis brevis est aetas rara Senectus Mart. l. 6. Ep. 29. These POEMS are Licensed to be Published Sept. 30. 1685. Ro. L'Estrange LONDON Printed for Samuel Lowndes over against Exeter Exchange in the Strand 1686. THE PUBLISHER TO THE READER REader dost ask What Work we here display What fair and Novel Piece salutes the Day Know that a Virgin bright this POEM writ A Grace for Beauty and a Muse for Wit Who when none higher in Loves Courts might sway Despis'd the Mertile for the nobler Bay Nor could Apollo or Minerva tell Whither her Pen or Pencil did excel But while these Pow'rs laid both to her their Claime Behold a Matron of a Heavenly Frame Antique but Great and Comely in her Meen Upon whose gorgeous Robe inscrib'd was seen Divine Vertue took her from both away And thus with Anger and Disdain did say Of Me she Learn'd with You she did but Play To the Pious Memory Of the Accomplisht Young LADY Mrs Anne Killigrew Excellent in the two Sister-Arts of Poësie and Painting An ODE I. THou Youngest Virgin-Daughter of the Skies Made in the last Promotion of the Blest Whose Palmes new pluckt from Paradise In spreading Branches more sublimely rise Rich with Immortal Green above the rest Whether adopted to some Neighbouring Star Thou rol'st above us in thy wand'ring Race Or in Procession fixt and regular Mov'd with the Heavens Majestick Pace Or call'd to more Superiour Bliss Thou tread'st with Seraphims the vasâ—â—byss What ever happy Region be thy place Cease thy Celestial Song a little space Thou wilt have Time enough for Hymns Divine Since Heav'ns Eternal Year is thine Hear then a Mortal Muse thy Praise rehearse In no ignoble Verse But such as thy own voice did practise here When thy first Fruits of Poesie were giv'n To make thy self a welcome Inmate there While yet a young Probationer And Candidate of Heav'n II. If by Traduction came thy Mind Our Wonder is the less to find A Soul so charming from a Stock so good Thy Father was transfus'd into thy Blood So wert thou born into the tuneful strain An early rich and inexhausted Vain But if thy Praeexisting Soul Was form'd at first with Myriads more It did through all the Mighty Poets roul Who Greek or Latine Laurels wore And was that Suppho last which once it was before If so then cease thy flight O Heav'n-born Mind Thou hast no Dross to purge from thy Rich Ore Nor can thy Soul a fairer Mansion find Than was the Beauteous Frame she left be hind Return to fill or mend the Quire of thy Celestial kind III. May we presume to say that at thy Birth New joy was sprung in Heav'n as well as here on Earth For sure the Milder Planets did combine On thy Auspicious Horoscope to shine And ev'n the most Malicious were in Trine Thy Brother-Angels at thy Birth Strung each his Lyre and tun'd it high That all the People of the Skie Might know a Poetess was born on Earth And then if ever Mortal Ears Had heard the Musick of the Spheres And if no clust'ring Swarm of Bees On thy sweet Mouth distill'd their golden Dew 'T was that such vulgar Miracles Heav'n had not Leasure to renew For all the Blest Fraternity of Love Solemniz'd there thy Birth and kept thy Holyday above IV. O Gracious God! How far have we Prophan'd thy Heav'nly Gift of Poesy Made prostitute and profligate the Muse Debas'd to each obscene and impious use Whose Harmony was first ordain'd Above For Tongues of Angels and for Hymns of Love O wretched We why were we hurry'd down This lubrique and adult'rate age Nay added fat Pollutions of our own T' increase the steaming Ordures of the Stage What can we say t' excuse our Second Fall Let this thy Vestal Heav'n attone for all Her Arethusian Stream remains unsoil'd Unmixt with Forreign Filth and undefil'd Her Wit was more than Man her Innocence a Child V. Art she had none yet wanted enon For Nature did that Want supply So rich in Treasures of her Own She might our boasted Stores defy Such Noble Vigour did her Verse adorn That it seem'd borrow'd where 't was only born Her Morals too were in her Bosome bred By great Examples daily fed What in the best of Books her Fathers Life she read And to be read her self she need not fear Each Test and ev'ry Light her Muse will bear Though Epictetus with his Lamp were there Ev'n Love for Love sometimes her Muse exprest Was but a Lambent-flame which play'd about her Brest Light as the Vapours of a Morning Dream So cold herself whilst she such Warmth exprest 'T was Cupid bathing in Diana's Stream VI. Born to the Spacious Empire of the Nine One would have thought she should have been content To manage well that Mighty Government But what can young ambitious Souls confine To the next Realm she stretcht her Sway For Painture neer adjoyning lay A plenteous Province and alluring Prey A Chamber of Dependences was fram'd As Conquerors will never want Pretence When arm'd to justifie the Offence And the whole Fief in right of Poetry she claim'd The Country open lay without Defence For Poets frequent In-rodes there had made And perfectly could represent The Shape the Face with ev'ry Lineament And all the large Demains which the Dumb-sister sway'd All bow'd beneath her Government Receiv'd in Triumph wherefoe're she went Her Pencil drew what e're her Soul design'd And oft the happy Draught surpass'd the Image in her Mind The Sylvan Scenes of Herds and Flocks And fruitful Plains and barren Rocks Of shallow Brooks that flow'd so clear The Bottom did the Top appear Of deeper too and ampler Flouds Which as in Mirrors shew'd the Woods Of lofty Trees with Sacred Shades And Perspectives of pleasant Glades Where Nymphs of brightest Form appear And shaggy Satyrs standing neer Which them at once admire and fear The Ruines too of some Majestick Piece Boasting the Pow'r of ancient Rome or Greece Whose Statues Freezes Columns broken lie And though deface't the Wonder of the Eie What Nature Art bold Fiction e're durst frame Her forming Hand gave Shape unto the Name So strange a Concourse ne're was seen before But when the peopl'd Ark the whole Creation bore VII The Scene then chang'd with bold Erected Look Our Martial King the Eye with Reverence strook For not content t' express his Outward Part Her hand call'd out the Image of his Heart His Warlike Mind his Soul devoid of Fear His High-designing Thoughts were figur'd there As when by Magick Ghosts are made appear Our Phenix Queen was portrai'd too so bright Beauty alone could Beauty take so right Her Dress her Shape her matchless Grace Were all observ'd as well as heav'nly Face With such a Peerless Majesty she stands As in that Day she took from Sacred hands The Crown 'mong num'rous Heroins was seen More
yet in Beauty than in Rank the Queen Thus nothing to her Genius was deny'd But like a Ball of Fire the further thrown Still with a greater Blaze she shone And her bright Soul broke out on ev'ry side What next she had design'd Heaven only knows To such Immod'rate Growth her Conquest rose That Fate alone their Progress could oppose VIII Now all those Charmes that blooming Grace The well-proportion'd Shape and beauteous Face Shall never more be seen by Mortal Eyes In Earth the much lamented Virgin lies Not Wit nor Piety could Fate prevent Nor was the cruel Destiny content To finish all the Murder at a Blow To sweep at once her Life and Beauty too But like a hardn'd Fellon took a pride To work more Mischievously slow And plunder'd first and then destroy'd O double Sacriledge on things Divine To rob the Relique and deface the Shrine But thus Orinda dy'd Heav'n by the same Disease did both translate As equal were their Souls so equal was their Fate IX Mean time her Warlike Brother on the Seas His waving Streamers to the Winds displays And vows for his Return with vain Devotion pays Ah Generous Youth that Wish forbear The Winds too soon will waft thee here Slack all thy Sailes and fear to come Alas thou know'st not Thou art wreck'd at home No more shalt thou behold thy Sisters Face Thou hast already had her last Embrace But look aloft and if thou ken'st from far Among the Pleiad's a New-kindl'd Star If any sparkles than the rest more bright 'T is she that shines in that propitious Light X. When in mid-Aire the Golden Trump shall sound To raise the Nations under ground When in the Valley of Jehosaphat The Judging God shall close the Book of Fate And there the last Assizes keep For those who Wake and those who Sleep When ratling Bones together fly From the four Corners of the Skie When Sinews o're the Skeletons are spread Those cloath'd with Flesh and Life inspires the Dead The Sacred Poets first shall hear the Sound And formost from the Tomb shall bound For they are cover'd with the lightest Ground And streight with in-born Vigour on the Wing Like mounting Larkes to the New Morning sing There Thou Sweet Saint before the Quire shalt go As Harbinger of Heav'n the Way to show The Way which thou so well hast learn'd below J. Dryden The Epitaph Engraved on her TOMB P. M. S. Annae Killigrew Doctoris KILLIGREW Filiae Quae in ipso AEtatis flore Obiit JUNII 16. 1685. HEu jacet fato victa Quae stabat ubique victrix Forma ingenio religione Plura collegerat in se Vnâ Quà m vel sparsa mireris in omnibus Talem quis pingat nisi penicillo quod tractavit Aut quis canat nisi Poëta sui similis Cum tanta sciret hoc Vnum ignoravit Quanta nempe esset Aut si nor it Mirare Modestiam Tantis incorruptam dotibus Laudes meruisse satis illi fuit Has ne vel audiret laudatores omnes fugerat Contenta paterno Lare Dum sibi Aula patebat adulatrix Mundum sapere an potuit Quae ab infantia Christum sapuerat Non modo semper Virgo Sed virginum Exemplar Gentis suae Decus AEvi Splendor Sexus Miraculum Nullâ Vertute inferior cuiquam Cuilibet superior multâ Optimi Deliciae patris Etiam numerosâ optimâque prole fortunatissimi Priorem tamen invidit nemo Seu frater seu soror Quin potius coluere omnes omnibus suavem officiosam Amorisque commune Vinculum Centrum Vix ista credes Hanc si nescieris Credet majora qui scierit Abi Viator Plange Si eam plangi oporteat Cui tam piè morienti Vel Coelites plauserint The same Turned into English BY Death alas here Conquer'd lies She who from All late bore the Prize In Beauty Wit Vertue Divine In whom those Graces did combine Which we admir'd in others see When they but singly scatter'd be Who her so Great can paint beside The Pencil her own Hand did guide What Verse can celebrate her Fame But such as She herself did frame Though much Excellence she did show And many Qualities did know Yet this alone she could not tell To wit How much she did excel Or if her Worth she rightly knew More to her Modesty was due That Parts in her no Pride could raise Desirous still to merit Praise But fled as she deserv'd the Bays Contented always to retire Court Glory she did not admire Although it lay so neer and faire It 's Grace to none more open were But with the World how should she close Who Christ in her first Childhood chose So with her Parents she did live That they to Her did Honour give As she to them In a Num'rous Race And Vertuous the highest Place None envy'd her Sisters Brothers Her Admirers were and Lovers She was to all s'obliging sweet All in One Love to her did meet A Virgin-Life not only led But it 's Example might be said The Ages Ornament the Name That gave her Sex and Country Fame Those who her Person never knew Will hardly think these things are true But those that did will More believe And higher things of her conceive Thy Eyes in tears now Reader steep For Her if 't lawful be to weep Whose blessed and Seraphique End Angels in Triumph did attend Alexandreis I Sing the Man that never Equal knew Whose Mighty Arms all Asia did subdue Whose Conquests through the spacious World do ring That City-Raser King-destroying King Who o're the Warlike Macedons did Reign And worthily the Name of Great did gain This is the Prince if Fame you will believe To ancient Story any credit give Who when the Globe of Earth he had subdu'd With Tears the easie Victory pursu'd Because that no more Worlds there were to win No further Scene to act his Glorys in Ah that some pitying Muse would now inspire My frozen style with a Poetique fire And Raptures worthy of his Matchless Fame Whose Deeds I sing whose never fading Name Long as the world shall fresh and deathless last No less to future Ages then the past Great my presumption is I must confess But if I thrive my Glory 's ne're the less Nor will it from his Conquests derogate A Female Pen his Acts did celebrate If thou O Muse wilt thy assistance give Such as made Naso and great Maro live With him whom Melas fertile Banks did bear Live though their Bodies dust and ashes are Whose Laurels were not fresher than their Fame Is now and will for ever be the same If the like favour thou wilt grant to me O Queen of Verse I 'll not ungrateful be My choicest hours to thee I 'll Dedicate 'T is thou shalt rule 't is thou shalt be my Fate But if Coy Goddess thou shalt this deny And from my humble suit disdaining fly I 'll stoop and beg no more since I know this Writing of him
the Sad the Sick the Poor Mans Care But whether thou or Blind or Cruel art Whether 't is Chance or Malice guides thy Dart Thou from the Parents Arms dost pull away The hopeful Child their Ages only ftay The Two whom Friendship in dear Bands has ty'd Thou dost with a remorseless hand devide Friendship the Cement that does faster twine Two Souls than that which Soul and Body joyn Thousands have been who their own Blood did spill But never any yet his Friend did kill Then 'gainst thy Dart what Armour can be found Who where thou do'st not strike do'st deepest wound Thy Pitty than thy Wrath 's more bitter far Most cruel where 't would seem the most to spare Yet thou of many Evils art but One Though thou by much too many art alone What shall I say of Poverty whence flows To miserable Man so many Woes Rediculous Evil which too oft we prove Does Laughter cause where it should Pitty move Solitary Ill into which no Eye Though ne're so Curious ever cares to pry And were there 'mong such plenty onely One Poor Man he certainly would live alone Yet Poverty does leave the Man entire But Sickness nearer Mischiefs does conspire Invades the Body with a loath'd Embrace Prides both its Strength and Beauty to deface Nor does its Malice in these bounds restrain But shakes the Throne of Sacred Wit the Brain And with a ne're enough detested Force Reason disturbs and turns out of its Course Again when Nature some Rare Piece has made On which her Utmost Skill she seems t' ave laid Polish't adorn'd the Work with moving Grace And in the Beauteous Frame a Soul doth place So perfectly compos'd it makes Divine Each Motion Word and Look from thence does shine This Goodly Composition the Delight Of ev'ry Heart and Joy of ev'ry sight It s peevish Malice has the Power to spoyle And with a Sully'd Hand its Lusture soyle The Grief were Endless that should all bewaile Against whose sweet Repose thou dost prevail Some freeze with Agues some with Feavers burn Whose Lives thou half out of their Holds dost turn And of whose Sufferings it may be said They living feel the very State o' th' Dead Thou in a thousand sev'ral Forms are drest And in them all dost Wretched Man infest And yet as if these Evils were too few Men their own Kind with hostile Arms pursue Not Heavens fierce Wrath nor yet the Hate of Hell Not any Plague that e're the World befel Not Inundations Famines Fires blind rage Did ever Mortals equally engage As Man does Man more skilful to annoy Both Mischievous and Witty to destroy The bloody Wolf the Wolf does not pursue The Boar though fierce his Tusk will not embrue In his own Kind Bares not on Bares do prey Then art thou Man more savage far than they And now methinks I present do behold The Bloudy Fields that are in Fame enroll'd I see I see thousands in Battle flain The Dead and Dying cover all the Plain Confused Noifes hear each way sent out The Vanquishts Cries joyn'd with the Victors shout Their Sighs and Groans who draw a painful Breath And feel the Pangs of slow approaching Death Yet happier these far happier are the Dead Than who into Captivity are led What by their Chains and by the Victors Pride We pity these and envy those that dy'd And who can say when Thousands are betray'd To Widdowhood Orphants or Childless made Whither the Day does draw more Tears or Blood A greater Chrystal or a Crimson Floud The faithful Wife who late her Lord did Arm And hop'd to shield by holy Vows from Harm Follow'd his parting-steps with Love and Care Sent after weeping Eyes while he afar Rod heated on born by a brave Disdain May now go seek him lying 'mong the Slain Low on the Earth she 'l find his lofty Crest And those refulgent Arms which late his Breast Did guard by rough Encounters broke and tore His Face and Hair with Brains all clotted ore And Warlike Weeds besmeer'd with Dust and Gore And will the Suffering World never bestow Upon th' Accursed Causers of such Woe A vengeance that may parallel their Loss Fix Publick Thieves and Robbers on the Cross Such as call Ruine Conquest in their Pride And having plagu'd Mankind in Triumph ride Like that renounced Murderer who staines In these our days Alsatias fertile Plains Only to fill the future Tromp of Fame Though greater Crimes than Glory it proclame Alcides Scourge of Thieves return to Earth Which uncontrolled gives such Monsters birth On Scepter'd-Cacus let thy Power be shown Pull him not from his Den but from his Throne Clouds of black Thoughts her further Speech here broke Her swelling Grief too great was to be spoke Which strugl'd long in her tormented Mind Till it some Vent by Sighs and Tears did find And when her Sorrow something was subdu'd She thus again her sad Complaint renewed Most Wretched Man were th'Ills I nam'd before All which I could in thy sad State deplore Did Things without alone 'gainst thee prevail My Tongue I 'de chide that them I did bewaile But Shame to Reason thou art seen to be Unto thy self the fatall'st Enemy Within thy Breast the Greatest Plagues to bear First them to breed and then to cherish there Unmanag'd Passions which the Reins have broke Of Reason and refuse to bear its Yoke But hurry thee uncurb'd from place to place A wild unruly and an Uncouth Chace Now cursed Gold does lead the Man astray False flatt'ring Honours do anon betray Then Beauty does as dang'rously delude Beauty that vanishes while 't is pursu'd That while we do behold it fades away And even a Long Encomium will not stay Each one of these can the Whole Man employ Nor knows he anger sorrow fear or joy But what to these relate no Thought does start Aside but tends to its appointed Part No Respite to himself from Cares he gives But on the Rack of Expectation lives If crost the Torment cannot be exprest Which boyles within his agitated Breast Musick is harsh all Mirth is an offence The Choicest Meats cannot delight his Sense Hard as the Earth he feels his Downy Bed His Pillow stufft with Thornes that bears his Head He rolls from side to side in vain seeks Rest For if sleep comes at last to the Distrest His Troubles then cease not to vex him too But Dreams present what he does waking do On th' other side if he obtains the Prey And Fate to his impetuous Sute gives way Be he or Rich or Amorous or Great He 'll find this Riddle still of a Defeat That only Care for Bliss he home has brought Or else Contempt of what he so much sought So that on each Event if we reflect The Joys and Sufferings of both sides collect We cannot say where lies the greatest Pain In the fond Pursuit Loss or Empty Gain And can it be Lord of the Sea and Earth Off-spring of Heaven that