Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. As a poor Heifer wearied in the Chase Of seeking her lov'd Steer from place to place Thro' Woods thro' Groves thro' Arable and Wast On some green River's bank lies down at last There Lows her Moan despairing and forlorn And tho' belated minds not to return Let Daphnis's Case be such and let not me Take any Care to give a Remedy Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms These Garments erst the faithless Traitor left Dear Pledges of his Love of which I 'm reft Beneath the Threshold these I bury now In thee O Earth these Pledges Daphnis owe. Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Of Maeris I these Herbs and Poysons had From Pontus brought in Pontus store are bred With these I 've oft seen Maeris Wonders do Turn himself Wolf and to the Forest go I 've often seen him Fields of Corn displace From whence they grew and Ghosts in Church-yards raise Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Go Maid go bear the Ashes out at door And them forthwith into the neighb'ring current pour Over thy Head and don 't look back be sure I 'll try what these on Daphnis will prevail The Gods he minds not nor my Charms at all Bring Daphnis from the Town ye Magick Charms Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms. Behold the Ashes while we lingring stay While we neglect to carry them away Have reach'd the Altar and have fir'd the Wood That lyes upon 't Heav'n send it be for good Something I know not what 's the matter Hark! I hear our Lightfoot in the Entry bark Shall I believe or is it only Dream Which Lovers fancies are too apt to frame Cease now ye Magick Charms behold him come Cease needless Charms my Daphnis is at home UPON THE MARRIAGE OF THE Prince of ORANGE WITH THE Lady MARY I. AS when of old some bright and Heav'nly Dame A God of equal Majesty did Wed Strait thro' the Court above the Tydings spread Strait at the News th' immortal Offspring came And all the Deities did the High Nuptials grace With no less Pomp no less of Grandeur we Behold this glad Solemnity And all confess an equal Joy And all expect as God-like and as great a Race Hark how united Shouts our Joys proclaim Which rise in Gratitude to Heav'n from whence they came Gladsome next those which brought our Royal Exile home When he resum'd his long usurped Throne Hark how the mighty Vollies rend the Air And shake at once the Earth and utmost Sphere Hark how the Bell's harmonious Noise Bear Consort too with humane Joys Behold those num'rous Fires which up and down Threaten almost new Conflagration to the Town Well do these Emblems mighty Orange speak thy Fame Whose Loudness Musick Brightness all express the same 'T was thus great Jove his Semele did Wed In Thunder and in Lightning so approach'd her bed II. Hail happy Pair kind Heav'ns great Hostages Sure Pledges of a firm and lasting Peace Call 't not a Match we that low Stile disdain Nor will degrade it with a Term so mean A League it must be said Where Countries thus Espouse and Nations Wed Our Thanks propitious Destiny Never did yet thy Pow'r dispence A more Plenipotentiary Influence Nor Heav'n more sure a Treaty ratifie To YOU our great and gracious Monarch too An equal share of Thanks is due Nought could this mighty Work produce but Heav'n and You. Let others boast Of Leagues which Wars and Slaughter cost This Union by no Blood Cemented is Nor did its Harmony from Jars and Discords rise Not more to your great Ancestor we owe By whom two Realms into one Kingdom grow He join'd but what Nature had join'd before Lands disunited by no parting Shore By You to Foreign Countries we 're Allied You make Us Continent whom Seas and Waves divide III. How well Brave Prince do you by prudent Conduct prove What was denied to mighty Jove Together to be Wise and Love In this you highest Skill of Choice and Judgment shew 'T is here display'd and here rewarded too Others move only by unbridled guideless Heat But you mix Love with Policy Passion with State You scorn'd the Painters Hands your Hearts should tye Which oft and here they must the Original belye For how should Art that Beauty undertake Which Heav'n would strive in vain again to make Taught by Religion you did better Methods try And worship'd not the Image but the Deity Go envied Prince your glorious BRIDE receive Too great for ought but mighty YORK to give She whom if none must Wed but those who merit Her Monarchs might cease Pretence and flighted Gods despair Think You in Her far greater Conquests gain Than all the Pow'rs of France have from your Country ta'ne In her fair Arms let your Ambition bounded lie And fancy there an Universal Monarchy IV. And you fair Princess who could thus subdue What France with all its Forces could not do Enjoy your glorious Prize Enjoy the Triumphs of your conqu'ring Eyes From Him and th' Height of your great Mind look down And with neglect despise a Throne And think 't as great to Merit as to wear a Crown Nassau is all which your Desires or Thoughts can frame All Titles lodge within that single Name A Name which Mars himself would with Ambition bear Prouder in that than to be call'd the God of War To you great Madam if your Joys admit Increase If Heav'n has not already set your Happiness Above its Pow'r to raise To You the zealous humble Muse These solemn Wishes Consecrates and Vows And begs you 'll not her Offering refuse Which not your Want but her Devotion shews V. May your great Consort still successful prove In all his high Attempts as in your Love May he thro' all Attacks of Chance appear As free from Danger as he is from Fear May neither Sense of Grief or Trouble know But what in Pity you to others show May you be fruitful in as numerous Store Of Princely Births as She who your great Father bore May Heav'n to your just Merits kind Repeal the ancient Curse on Womankind Easie and gentle as the Labours of the Brain May yours all prove and just so free from Pain May no rude Noise of War approach your Bed But Peace her downy Wings about you spread Calm as the Season when fair Halcyons breed May you and the just owner of your Breast Both in as full Content and Happiness be blest As the first sinless Pair of old enjoy'd Ere Guilt their Innocence and that destroy'd Till nothing but Continuance to your Bliss can add And you by Heav'n alone be happier made Till future Poets who your Lives review When they'd their utmost Pitch of Flatt'ry shew Shall pray their Patrons may become like you
Nor know to frame a skilful Wish more great Nor think a higher Blessing in the Gift of Fate AN ODE For an Anniversary of MUSICK on S. Cecilia's Day I. BEgin the Song your Instruments advance Tune the Voice and Tune the Flute Touch the silent sleeping Lute And make the Strings to their own Measures dance Bring gentlest Thoughts that into Language glide Bring softest Words that into Numbers slide Let every Hand and every Tongue To make the Noble Consort throng Let all in one harmonious Note agree To frame the mighty Song For this is Musicks sacred Jubile II. Hark how the wak'ned Strings resound And break the yielding Air The ravish'd Sense how pleasingly they wound And call the listning Soul into the Ear Each Pulse beats time and every Heart With Tongue and Fingers bears a part By Harmonies entrancing Power When we are thus wound up to Ecstasie Methinks we mount methinks we tower And seem to antedate our future Bliss on high III. How dull were Life how hardly worth our care But for the Charms that Musick lends How faint its Pleasures would appear But for the Pleasure which our Art attends Without the Sweets of Melody To tune our vital Breath Who would not give it up to Death And in the silent Grave contented lye IV. Musick 's the Cordial of a troubled Breast The softest Remedy that Grief can find The gentle Spell that charms our Care to rest And calms the ruffled Passions of the Mind Musick does all our Joy refine It gives the Relish to our Wine 'T is that gives Rapture to our Love And Wings Devotion to a pitch Divine 'T is our chief Bliss on Earth and half our Heaven above Chorus Come then with tuneful Throat and String The Praises of our Art let 's sing Let 's sing to Blest CECILIA's Fame That grac'd this Art and gave this Day its Name With Musick Wine and Mirth conspire To bear a Consort and make up the Choir TO MADAM L. E. Vpon her Recovery from a late Sickness Madam PArdon that with slow Gladness we so late Your wish'd return of Health congratulate Our Joys at first so throng'd to get abroad They hinder'd one another in the crowd And now such haste to tell their Message make They only stammer what they meant to speak You the fair Subject which I am to sing To whose kind Hands this humble joy I bring Aid me I beg while I this Theme pursue For I invoke no other Muse but you Long time had you here brightly shone below With all the Rays kind Heaven could bestow No envious Cloud e're offer'd to invade Your Lustre or compel it to a Shade Nor did it yet by any Sign appear But that you thoroughout Immortal were Till Heaven if Heaven could prove so cruel sent To interrupt the Growth of your content As if it grudg'd those Gifts you did enjoy And would that Bounty which it gave destroy 'T was since your Excellence did envy move In those high Powers and made them jealous prove They thought these Glories should they still have shin'd Unsullied were too much for Woman-kind Which might they write as lasting as they 're Fair Too great for ought but Deities appear But Heaven it may be was not yet compleat And lackt you there to fill your empty Seat. And when it could not fairly woo you hence Turn'd Ravisher and offer'd Violence Sickness did first a formal siege begin And by sure slowness try'd your Life to win As if by lingring methods Heaven meant To chase you hence and tire you to consent But thus in vain Fate did to force resort And next by Storm strove to attack the Fort A Sleep dull as your last did you Arrest And all their Magazines of Life possest No more the Blood its circling course did run But in the Veins like Isicles it hung No more the Heart now void of quickning heat The tuneful March of vital Motion beat Stiffness did into all the Sinews climb And a short Death crept cold through every Limb. All Signs of Life from sight so far withdrew 'T was now thought Popery to pray for you There might you were not that sense lost have seen How your true Death would have resented been A Lethargy like yours each Breast did seize And all by Sympathy catcht your Disease Around you silent Imagery appears And nought in the Spectators moves but Tears They pay what Grief were to your Funeral due And yet dare hope Heaven would your Life renew Mean while all means all Drugs prescribed are Which the decays of Health or Strength repair Medicines so powerful they new Souls would save And Life in long-dead Carcasses retrieve But these in vain they rougher Methods try And now you 're Martyr'd that you may not die Sad Scene of Fate when Tortures were your gain And 't was a kindness thought to wish you pain As if the slackned string of Life run down Could only by the Rack be screw'd in tune But Heav'n at last grown conscious that its pow'r Could scarce what was to die with you restore And loth to see such Glories overcome Sent a Post-Angel to repeal your doom Strait Fate obey'd the Charge which Heaven sent And gave this first dear Proof it could Repent Triumphant Charms what may not you subdue When Fate 's your Slave and thus submits to you It now again the new-broke Thread does knit And for another Clew her Spindle fit And life 's hid spark which did unquencht remain Caught the fled light and brought it back again Thus you reviv'd and all our Joy with you Reviv'd and found their Resurrection too Some only griev'd that what was deathless thought They saw so near to Fatal ruin brought Now crowds of Blessings on that happy hand Whose skill could eager Destiny withstand Whose learned Pow'r has rescu'd from the Grave That Life which 't was a Miracle to save That Life which were it thus untimely lost Had been the fairest Spoil Death e'r could boast May he henceforth be God of Healing thought By whom such good to you and us was brought Altars and Shrines to him are justly due Who shew'd himself a God by raising you But say fair Saint for you alone can know Whither your Soul in this short flight did go Went it to antidate that Happiness You must at last tho late we hope possess Inform us lest we should your Fate belye And call that Death which was but Ecstasie The Queen of Love we 're told once let us see That Goddesses from Wounds could not be free And you by this unwish'd Occasion show That they like Mortal us can Sickness know Pitty that Heav'n should all its Titles give And yet not let you with them ever live You 'd lack no point that makes a Deity If you could like it too Immortal be And so you are half boasts a Deathless State Although your frailer Part must yield to Fate By every breach in that fair lodging made Its blest Inhabitant
is more displaid In that white Snow which over-spreads your Skin We trace the whiter Soul which dwells within Which while you through this shining Hue display Looks like a Star plac'd in the milky way Such the bright Bodies of the Blessed are When they for Raiment cloath'd with Light appear And should you visit now the Seats of Bliss You need not wear another form but this Never did Sickness in such Pomp appear As when it thus your Livery did wear Disease it self look'd amiable here So Clouds which would obscure the Sun oft gilded be And Shades are taught to shine as bright as he Grieve not fair Nymph when in your Glass you trace The marring Footsteps of a pale Disease Regret not that your Cheeks their Roses want Which a few Days shall in full store replant Which whilst your Blood withdraws its guilty Red Tells that you own no Faults that Blushes need The Sun whose Bounty does each Spring restore What Winter from the rifled Meadows tore Which every Morning with an early Ray Paints the young blushing Cheeks of instant Day Whose skill inimitable here below Limns those gay Clouds which form Heav'ns colour'd Bow That Sun shall soon with Interest repay All the lost Beauty Sickness snatch'd away Your Beams like his shall hourly now advance And every Minute their swift Growth enhance Mean while that you no helps of Healths refuse Accept these humble Wishes of the Muse Which shall not of their just Petition fail If she and she's a Goddess ought prevail May no profane Disease henceforth approach This sacred Temple with unhallow'd touch Or with rude sacriledge its frame debauch May these fair Members always happy be In as full Strength and well-set Harmony As the new Foundress of your Sex could boast Ere she by Sin her first Perfection lost May Destiny just to your Merits twine All your smooth Fortunes in a Silken Line And that you may at Heaven late arrive May it to you its largest Bottom give May Heaven with still repeated Favours bless Till it its Pow'r below its Will confess Till Wishes can no more exalt your Fate Nor Poets fansie you more fortunate ON THE DEATH OF Mrs Katharine Kingscourt A Child of Excellent Parts and Piety SHE did She did I saw her mount the Skie And with new Whiteness paint the Galaxy Heav'n her methought with all its Eyes did view And yet acknowledg'd all its Eyes too few Methought I saw in Crowds blest Spirits meet And with loud Welcomes her Arrival greet Which could they grieve had gone with grief away To see a Soul more white more pure than they Earth was unworthy such a Prize as this Only a while Heav'n let us share the Bliss In vain her stay with fruitless Tears we 'd woo In vain we'd Court when that our Rival grew Thanks ye kind Powers who did so long dispense Since you so wish'd her with her absence thence We now resign to you alone we grant The sweet Monopoly of such a Saint So pure a Saint I scarce dare call her so For fear to wrong her with a Name too low Such a Scraphick brightness in her shin'd I hardly can believe her Woman-kind 'T was sure some noble Being left the Sphere Which deign'd a little to inhabit here And can't be said to die but disappear Or if she Mortal was and meant to show The greater skill by being made below Sure Heav'n preserv'd her by the fall uncurst To tell how all the Sex were form'd at first Never did yet so much Divinity In such a small Compendium crouded lye By her we credit what the Learned tell That many Angels in one Point can dwell More damned Fiends did not in Mary rest Than lodg'd of Blessed Spirits in her Breast Religion dawn'd so early in her mind You 'd think her Saint whilst in the Womb enshrin'd Nay that bright ray which did her Temples paint Proclaim'd her clearly while alive a Saint Scarce had she learnt to lisp Religion's Name E'r she by her Example preach'd the same And taught her Cradle like the Pulpit to reclaim No Action did within her Practice fall Which for th' Atonement of a Blush could call No word of hers e'er greeted any Ear But what a dying Saint confest might hear Her Thoughts had scarcely ever fully'd been By the least Foot-steps of Original Sin. Her Life did still as much Devotion breath As others do at their last Gasp in Death Hence on her Tomb of her let not be said So long she liv'd but thus so long she pray'd A SUNDAY-THOUGHT In Sickness LOrd how dreadful is the Prospect of Death at the remotest Distance How the smallest Apprehension of it can pall the most gay airy and brisk Spirits Even I who thought I could have been merry in sight of my Coffin and drink a Health with the Sexton in my own Grave now tremble at the least Envoy of the King of Terrors To see but the shaking of my Glass makes me turn pale and fear is like to prevent and do the Work of my Distemper All the Jollity of my Humor and Conversation is turn'd on a sudden into shagrin and melancholy black as Despair and dark as the Grave My Soul and Body seem at once laid out and I fancy all the Plummets of Eternal Night already hanging upon my Temples But whence proceed these Fears Certainty they are not idle Dreams nor the accidental Product of my Disease which disorders the Brains and fills 'em with odd Chimaera's Why should my Soul be averse to its Enlargement Why should it be content to be knit up in two Yards of Skin when it may have all the World for its Purliew 'T is not that I 'm unwilling to leave my Relations and present Friends I 'm parted from the first already and could be sever'd from both the length of the whole Map and live with my Body as far distant from them as my Soul must when I 'm dead Neither is it that I 'm loth to leave the Delights and Pleasures of the World some of them I have tried and found empty the others covet not because unknown I 'm confident I could despise 'em all by a Greatness of Soul did not the Bible oblige me and Divines tell me 't is my Duty It is not neither that I 'm unwilling to go hence before I 've Establish'd a Reputation and something to make me survive my self I could have been content to be Still-born and have no more than the Register or Sexton to tell that I 've ever been in the Land of the Living In Fine 't is not from a Principle of Cowardise which the Schools have called Self-preservation the poor Effect of Instinct and dull pretence of a Brute as well as me This Unwillingness therefore and Aversion to undergo the general Fate must have a juster Original and flow from a more important Cause I 'm well satisfied that this other Being within that moves and actuates my Frame of Flesh and Blood
When he th' Almighty Infant 's Birth foretold A mighty Volume in one hand is born Whose open'd Leaves the other seems to turn Vast Annals of my Sins in Scarlet writ But now eras'd blot our and cancell'd quite Hark how the Heavenly Whisper strikes mine Ear Mortal behold thy Crimes all pardon'd here Hail Sacred Envoy of th' Eternal King Welcom as the bless'd Tidings thou dost bring Welcom as Heav'n from whence thou cam'st but now Thus low to thy great God and mine I bow And might I here O might I ever grow Fix'd an unmov'd and endless Monument Of Gratitude to my Creator sent TO THE MEMORY OF Mr. Charles Morwent A PINDARIQUE Ignis utique quo clariùs effulsit citiùs extinguitur eripit se aufertque ex oculis subitò perfecta virtus quicquid est absoluti faciliùs transfluit optimi neutiquam diurnant Cambden de Phil. Syd O celeres hominum bonorum dies Apul. LONDON Printed in the Year 1687. To the Memory of my Dear Friend Mr. CHARLES MORWENT A PINDARIQUE Ostendunt terris hunc tantùm fata nec ultrà Esse sinunt Virg. I. BEst Friend could my unbounded Grief but rate With due proportion thy too cruel Fate Could I some happy Miracle bring forth Great as my Wishes and thy greater Worth All Helicon should soon be thine And pay a Tribute to thy Shrine The learned Sisters all transform'd should be No longer nine but one Melpomene Each should into a Niobe relent At once thy Mourner and thy Monument Each should become Like the fam'd Memnon's speaking Tomb To sing thy well-tun'd Praise Nor should we fear their being dumb Thou still would'st make 'em vocal with thy Rays II. O that I could distil my vital Juice in Tears Or wast away my Soul in sobbing Airs Were I all Eyes To flow in liquid Elegies That every Limb might grieve And dying Sorrow still retrieve My Life should be but one long mourning day And like moist Vapors melt in Tears away I 'd soon dissolve in one great Sigh And upwards fly Glad so to be exhal'd to Heav'n and thee A Sigh which might well-nigh reverse thy death And hope to animate thee with new Breath Pow'rful as that which heretofore did give A Soul to well-form'd Clay and made it live III. Adieu blest Soul whose hasty Flight away Tells Heaven did ne'er display Such Happiness to bless the World with stay Death in thy Fall betray'd her utmost spite And shew'd her shafts most times are levell'd at the white She saw thy blooming Ripeness time prevent She saw and envious grew and straight her arrow sent So Buds appearing e'er the Frosts are past Nip'd by some unkind Blast Wither in Penance for their forward haste Thus have I seen a Morn so bright So deck'd with all the Robes of Light As if it scorn'd to think of Night Which a rude Storm e'er Noon did shroud And buried all its early Glories in a Cloud The day in funeral Blackness mourn'd And all to Sighs and all to Tears it turn'd IV. But why do we thy Death untimely deem Or Fate blaspheme We should thy full ripe Virtues wrong To think thee young Fate when she did thy vigorous Growth behold And all thy forward Glories told Forgot thy tale of Years and thought thee old The brisk Endowments of thy Mind Scorning i' th' Bud to be confin'd Out-ran thy Age and left slow Time behind Which made thee reach Maturity so soon And at first Dawn present a full-spread Noon So thy Perfections with thy Soul agree Both knew no Non-age knew no Infancy Thus the first Patern of our Race began His Life in middle-age at 's Birth a perfect Man. V. So well thou acted'st in thy Span of Days As calls at once for Wonder and for Praise Thy prudent Conduct had so learnt to measure The different whiles of Toil and Leasure No time did Action want no Action wanted Pleasure Thy busie Industry could Time dilate And stretch the Thread of Fate Thy careful Thrift could only boast the Power To lengthen Minutes and extend an Hour No single Sand could e'er slip by Without its Wonder sweet as high And every teeming Moment still brought forth A thousand Rarities of Worth. While some no other Cause for Life can give But a dull Habitude to live Thou scorn'dst such Laziness while here beneath And Liv'dst that time which others only Breath VI. Next our just Wonder does commence How so small Room could hold such Excellence Nature was proud when she contriv'd thy Frame In thee she labor'd for a Name Hence 't was she lavish'd all her Store As if she meant hereafter to be poor And like a Bankrupt run o' th' Score Her curious Hand here drew in Straights and joyn'd All the Perfections lodge in Humane kind Teaching her numerous Gifts to lie Crampt in a short Epitome So Stars contracted in a Diamond shine And Jewels in a narrow Point confine The Riches of an Indian Mine Thus subtle Artists can Draw Nature's larger self within a Span A small Frame holds the World Earth Heav'ns and all Shrunk to the scant Dimensions of a Ball. VII Those Parts which never in one Subject dwell But some uncommon Excellence foretel Like Stars did all constellate here And met together in one Sphere Thy Judgment Wit and Memory conspir'd To make themselves and thee admir'd And could thy growing Height a longer Stay have known Thou hadst all other Glories and thy self out-done While some to Knowledg by degrees arrive Through tedious Industry improv'd Thine scorn'd by such pedantick Rules to thrive But swift as that of Angels mov'd And made us think it was intuitive Thy pregnant Mind ne'er struggl'd in its Birth But quick and while it did conceive brought forth The gentle Throes of thy prolifick Brain Were all unstrain'd and without Pain Thus when Great Jove the Queen of Wisdom bare So easie and so mild his Travels were VIII Nor were these Fruits in a rough Soil bestown As Gems are thick'st in rugged Quarries sown Good Nature and good parts so shar'd thy mind A Muse and Grace were so combin'd 'T was hard to guess which with most Lustre shin'd A Genius did thy whole Comportment act Whose charming Complaisance did so attract As every Heart attack'd Such a soft Air thy well-tun'd Sweetness sway'd As told thy Soul of Harmony was made All rude Affections that Disturbers be That mar or disunite Society Were Foreiners to thee Love only in their stead took up its Rest Nature made that thy constant Guest And seem'd to form no other Passion for thy Breast IX This made thy Courteousness to all extend And thee to the whole Universe a Friend Those which were Strangers to thy native Soil and thee No Strangers to thy Love could be Whose Bounds were wide as all Mortality Thy Heart no Island was disjoyn'd Like thy own Nation from all human kind But 't was a Continent to other Countries fixt As firm by Love as they by Earth annext
Thou scorn'dst the Map should thy Affection guide Like theirs who love by dull Geography Friends but to whom by Soil they are ally'd Thine reach'd to all beside To every Member of the World 's great Family Heav'ns Kindness only claims a Name more general Which we the nobler call Because 't is common and vouchsaf'd to all X. Such thy Ambition of obliging was Thou seem'dst corrupted with the very Power to please Only to let thee gratifie At once did bribe and pay thy Courtesie Thy Kindness by Acceptance might be bought It for no other Wages sought But would its own be thought No Suiters went unsatisfy'd away But left thee more unsatisfy'd than they Brave Titus thou mightst here thy true Portraicture find And view thy Rival in a private mind Thou heretofore deserv'dst such Praise When Acts of Goodness did compute thy days Measur'd not by the Sun 's but thine own kinder Rays Thou thought'st each hour out of Life's Journal lost Which could not some fresh Favor boast And reckon'dst Bounties thy best Clepsydras XI Some Fools who the great Art of giving want Deflower their Largess with too slow a Grant Where the deluded Suitor dearly buys What hardly can defray The Expence of Importunities Or the Suspense of torturing Delay Here was no need of tedious Pray'rs to sue Or thy too backward Kindness woo It moved with no formal State Like theirs whose Pomp does for intreaty wait But met the swift'st Desires half way And Wishes did well-nigh anticipate And then as modestly withdrew Nor for its due Reward of Thanks would stay XII Yet might this Goodness to the happy most accrue Somewhat was to the miserable due Which they might justly challenge too Whate'er Mishap did a known Heart oppress The same did thine as wretched make Like yielding Wax thine did th' Impressions take And paint its Sadness in as lively Dress Thou could'st afflictions from another Breast translate And forein Grief impropriate Oft-times our Sorrows thine so much have grown They scarce were more our own Who seem'd exempt thou suffer'dst all alone XIII Our small'st Misfortunes scarce could reach thy Ear But made thee give in Alms a Tear And when our Hearts breath'd their regret in sighs As a just Tribute to their Miseries Thine with their mournful Airs did symbolize Like Throngs of Sighs did for its Fibres crowd And told thy Grief from our each Grief aloud Such is the secret Sympathy We may betwixt two neighb'ring Lutes descry If either by unskilful hand too rudely bent Its soft Complaint in pensive murmurs vent As if it did that Injury resent Untoucht the other strait returns the Moan And gives an Eccho to each Groan From its sweet Bowels a sad Note 's convey'd Like those which to condole are made As if its Bowels too a kind Compassion had XIV Nor was thy goodness bounded with so small extent Or in such narrow Limits pent Let Female Frailty in fond Tears distill Who think that Moisture which they spill Can yield Relief Or shrink the Current of anothers Grief Who hope that Breath which they in sighs convey Should blow Calamities away Thine did a manlier Form express And scorn'd to whine at an Unhappiness Thou thought'st it still the noblest Pity to redress So friendly Angels their Relief bestow On the unfortunate below For whom those purer minds no Passion know Such Nature in that generous Plant is found Whose every Breach does with a Salve abound And wounds it self to cure another's Wound In pity to Mankind it sheds its Juice Glad with expence of Blood to serve their Use First with kind Tears our Maladies bewails And after heals And makes those very Tears the remedy produce XV. Nor didst thou to thy Foes less generous appear If there were any durst that Title wear They could not offer Wrongs so fast But what were pardon'd with like haste And by thy acts of Amnesty defac't Had he who wish'd the Art how to forget Discover'd its new Worth in thee He had a double Value on it set And justly scorn'd th' ignobler Art of Memory No Wrongs could thy great Soul to Grief expose 'T was plac'd as much out of the reach of those As of material Blows No Injuries could thee provoke Thy Softness always dampt the stroke As Flints on Feather-beds are easiest broke Affronts could ne'er thy cool Complexion heat Or chafe thy temper from its setled State But still thou stoodst unshockt by all As if thou hadst unlearnt the Power to hate Or like the Dove wert born without a Gall. XVI Vain Stoicks who disclaim all Human Sense And own no Passions to resent Offence May pass it by with unconcern'd Neglect And Virtue on those Principles erect Where 't is not a Perfection but Defect Let these themselves in a dull Patience please Which their own Statues may possess And they themselves when Carcasses Thou only couldst to that high pitch arrive To court Abuses that thou mightst forgive Wrongs thus in thy Esteem seem'd Courtesie And thou the first was e'er oblig'd by Injury XVII Nor may we think these God-like Qualities Could stand in need of Votaries Which heretofore had challeng'd Sacrifice Each Assignation each Converse Gain'd thee some new Idolaters Thy sweet Obligingness could supple Hate And out of it its Contrary create It s powerful Influence made Quarrels cease And Fewds dissolv'd into a calmer Peace Envy resign'd her Force and vanquish'd Spite Became thy speedy Proselyte Malice could cherish Enmity no more And those which were thy Foes before Now wish'd they might adore Caesar may tell of Nations took And Troops by Force subjected to his Yoke We read as great a Conquerer in thee Who couldst by milder ways all Hearts subdue The nobler Conquest of the two Thus thou whole Legions mad'st thy Captives be And like him too couldst look and speak thy Victory XVIII Hence may we Calculate the Tenderness Thou didst Express To all whom thou didst with thy Friendship bless To think of Passion by new Mothers bore To the young Offspring of their Womb Or that of Lovers to what they Adore Ere Duty it become We should too mean Ideas frame Of that which thine might justly claim And injure it by a degrading Name Conceive the tender Care Of guardian Angels to their Charge assign'd Or think how dear To Heaven Expiring Martyrs are These are the Emblems of thy mind The only Types to shew how thou wast kind XIX On whomsoe'er thou didst confer this Tye 'T was lasting as Eternity And firm as the unbroken Chain of Destiny Embraces would faint shadows of your Union show Unless you could together grow That Union which is from Alliance bred Does not so fastly wed Tho it with Blood be cemented That Link wherewith the Soul and Body 's joyn'd Which twists the double Nature in Mankind Only so close can bind That holy Fire which Romans to their Vesta paid Which they immortal as the Goddess made Thy noble Flames most fitly parallel For thine were just