Conquest and from thence Couzen'd himself into a Confidence T'other that saw his Conqueror so near Stood still and list'ned to a whisp'ring fear From whence he heard his Conquest and his Shame But new-born Hopes his antient Fears o'recame The Mighty Enemies now met at length With equal Fury though not equal Strength For now too late the Conqueror did find That all was wasted in him but his Mind His Courage in his Weakness yet prevails As a bold Pilot steers with tatter'd Sails And Cordage crackt directs no steddy Course Carry'd by Resolution more than Force Before his once scorn'd Enemy he reels His Wounds encreasing with his Shame he feels The others Strength more from his Weakness grows And with one furious push his Rival throws So a tall Oak the pride of all the Wood That long th' Assault of several Storms hath stood Till by a Mighty Blast more pow'rfully push't His Root 's torn up and to the Earth he rusht Yet then he rais'd his Head on which there Grew Once all his Power and all his Title too Unable now to rise and less to Fight He rais'd those Scepters to demand his Right But such weak Arguments prevail with none To plead their Titles when their Power is gone His Head now sinks and with it all defence Not only rob'd of Power but Pretence Wounds upon Wounds the Conqueror still gives And thinks himself unsafe while t'other Lives Unhappy State of such as wear a Crown Fortune does seldom lay ' em gently down Now to the most scorn'd Remedy he flies And for some Pity seems to move his Eyes Pity by which the best of Virtue 's try'd To wretched Princes ever is deny'd There is a Debt to Fortune which they pay For all their Greatness by no Common way The flatt'ring Troops unto the Victor fly And own his Title to his Victory The faith of most with Fortune does decline Duty 's but Fear and Conscience but Design The Victor now proud in his great success Hastes to enjoy his fatal Happiness Forgot his Mighty Rival was destroy'd By that which he so fondly now enjoy'd In Passions thus Nature her self enjoys Sometimes Preserves and then again destroys Yet all Destruction which Revenge can move Time or Ambition is supply'd by Love TO CELIA By Sir Charle Ssedley YOU tell me Celia you approve Yet never must return my love An answer that my hope destroys And in the Cradle wounds our joys To kill at once what needs must die None would to Birds and Beasts deny How can you then so cruel prove As to preserve and torture Love That Beauty Nature kindly meant For her own Pride and our Content Why shou'd the Tyrant Honour make Our greatest torment Let us break His Yoke and that base power disdain Which only keeps the good in pain In Love and War th' Impostor do's The best to greatest harms expose Come then my Celia let 's no more This Devil for a God adore Like foolish Indians we have been Whose whole Religion is a sin If we the Laws of Love had kept And not in Dreams of Honour slept He wou'd have surely long ere this Have Crown'd us with the highest Bliss Our Joy had then been as compleat As now our Folly has been great Let 's lose no time then but repent Love welcomes best a Penitent ANSWER By the same Author THyrsis I wish as well as you To Honour there were nothing due Then would I pay my Debt of Love In the same Coin that you approve Which now you must in Friendship take 'T is all the Payment I can make Friendship so high that I must say 'T is rather Love with some allay And rest contented since that I As well my self as you deny Learn then of me bravely to bear The want of what you hold most dear And that which Honour does in me Let my Example work on thee TO CELIA By the same Author PRinces make Laws by which their Subjects live And the high Gods Rules for their Worship give How should poor Mortals else a Service find At all proportion'd to their mighty Mind Had it been left to us each one would bring Of what he lik'd himself an Offering And with unwelcome Zeal perhaps displease Th' offended Deity he would appease All powers but thine this Mercy do allow And how they wou'd be serv'd themselves do shew A rude Barbarian wou'd his Captiv'd Foe Fully instruct in what he 'd have him do And can it be my Celia that Love Less kind than War shou'd to the vanquish't prove Say cruel Fair then would you that my flame Shou'd for a while move under Friendship 's Name Or may it boldly like it self appear And its own Tale deliver to your Ear Or must it in my tortur'd Bosome live Like Fire in quiet Flints and no Light give And only then humbly send forth a small Spark when your self does on that Subject fall My Passion can with any Laws comply And for your sake do any thing but Die TO CHLORIS By the same Author CHloris I justly am betray'd By a Design my self had laid Like an old Rook whom in his Cheat A Run of Fortune does defeat I thought at first with a small Sum Of Love thy heap to overcome Presuming on thy want of Art Thy gentle and unpractis'd Heart But naked Beauty can prevail Like open force when Plots do fail Instead of that thou hast all mine And I have not one Stake of thine And like all Winners do'st discover A willingness to give me over And though I beg thou wilt not now 'T were better thou should'st do so too For I so far in Debt shall run Even thee I shall be forc't to shun My Hand alas is no more mine Else it had long ago been thine My Heart I give thee and we call No Man unjust that parts with all What a Priest says moves not the mind Souls are by Love not Words combin'd To a Lady who told him he could not Love By the same Author MAdam though meaner Beauties might Perhaps have need of some such slight Who to excuse their Rigour must Say they our Passions do mistrust And that they wou'd more pity shew Were they but sure our Loves were true You shou'd those petty Arts despise Secure of what is once your Prize We to our Slaves no Frauds address But as they are our Minds express Tell me not then I cannot Love Say rather you it ne'er can move Who can no more doubt of your Charms Than I resist such pow'rful Arms Whose numerous force that I withstood So long was not through any hope I cou'd Escape their pow'r but through despair Which oft makes Courage out of fear I trembling saw how you us'd those Who tamely yielded without blows Had you but one of all them spar'd I might perhaps have been ensnar'd And not have thus e're I did yield Call'd Love's whole Force into the Field Yet now I 'm Conquer'd I will prove Faithful as they that
all Tests A Poet should instruct or please or both Let all your Precepts be succinct and clear That ready Wits may comprehend them soon And faithful Memories retain them long For superfluities are soon forgot Never be so conceited of your Parts To think you may perswade us what you please Or venture to bring in a Child alive That Canibals have murther'd and devour'd Old Age explodes all but Morality Austerity offends aspiring Youths But he that joyns instructions with delight Profit with pleasure carries all the Votes These are the Volumes that enrich the Shops These pass with admiration through the World And bring their Author an Eternal fame Be not too rigidly Censorious A string may jar in the best Master's hand And the most skilful Archer miss his aim But in a Poem elegantly writ I will not quarrel with a slight mistake Such as our Natures frailty may excuse But he that hath been often told his fault And still persists is as impertinent As a Musician that will always play And yet is always out at the same Note When such a positive abandon'd Fop Among his numerous Absurdities Stumbles upon some tolerable Line I fret to see them in such company And wonder by what Magick they came there But in long Works Sleep will sometimes surprize Homer himself hath been observ'd to nod Poems like Pictures are of different forts Some better at a distance others near Some love the dark some chuse the clearest light And boldly challenge the most piercing Eye Some please for once some will for ever please But Piso tho' your own Experience Joyn'd with your Fathers Precepts make you wise Remember this as an important truth Some things admit of Mediocrity A Counsellor or Pleader at the Bar May want Messala's powerful Eloquence Or be less read than deep Cassellius Yet this indifferent Lawyer is esteem'd But no authority of Gods nor Men Allow of any mean in Poesie As an ill Consort and a course Perfume Disgrace the Delicacy of a Feast And might with more discretion have been spar'd So Poesie whose end is to delight Admits of no Degrees but must be still Sublimely good or despicably ill In other things Men have some reason left And one that cannot Dance or Fence or Run Despairing of success forbears to Try But all without consideration write Some thinking that th' omnipotence of Wealth Can turn them into Poets when they please But Piso you are of too quick a sight Not to discern which way your Talent lies Or vainly struggle with your Genius Yet if it ever be your fate to Write Let your Productions pass the strictest hands Mine and your Fathers and not see the light Till time and care have rip'ned every Line What you keep by you you may change mend But words once spoke can never be recall'd Orpheus inspir'd by more than humane power Did not as Poets feign tame savage Beasts But Men as lawless and as wild as they And first disswaded them from rage and blood Thus when Amphion built the Theban Wall They feign'd the Stones obey'd his Magick Lute Poets the first Instructers of Mankind Brought all things to their proper native Use Some they appropriated to the Gods And some to publick some to private ends Promiscuous Love by Marriage was restrain'd Cities were built and useful Laws were made So ancient is the pedigree of Verse And so Divine a Poet's Function Then Homer's and Tyrtaeus Martial Muse Waken'd the World and sounded loud Alarms To Verse we owe the Sacred Oracles And our best Precepts of Morality Some have by Verse obtain'd the love of Kings Who with the Muses ease their wearied minds Then blush not Noble Piso to protect What Gods inspire and Kings delight to hear Some think that Poets may be form'd by Art Others maintain that Nature makes them so I neither see what Art without a vein Nor Wit without the help of Art can do But mutually they need each others aid He that intends to gain th' Olympick Prize Must use himself to hunger heat and cold Take leave of Wine and the soft joys of Love And no Musician dares pretend to skill Without a great Expence of time and pains But every little busie Scribler now Swells with the praises which he gives himself And taking Sanctuary in the Croud Brags of his Impudence and scorns to mend A wealthy Poet takes more pains to hire A flattering Audience than poor Tradesmen do To perswade Customers to buy their Goods 'T is hard to find a Man of great Estate That can distinguish Flatterers from Friends Never delude your self nor read your Book Before a brib'd and fawning Auditor For he 'll commend and feign an Ecstasie Grow pale or weep do any thing to please True friends appear less mov'd than Counterfeit As Men that truly grieve at Funerals Are not so loud as those that cry for hire Wise were the Kings who never chose a Friend Till with full Cups they had unmask'd his Soul And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts You cannot arm your self with too much care Against the smiles of a designing Knave Quintilius if his advice were ask'd Would freely tell you what you should correct Or if you could not bid you blot it out And with more care supply the vacancy But if he found you fond and obstinate And apter to defend than mend your faults With silence leave you to admire your self And without Rival hug your darling Book The prudent care of an Impartial Friend Will give you notice of each idle Line Shew what sounds harsh and what wants ornament Or where it is too lavishly bestowed Make you explain all that he finds Obscure And with a strict Enquiry mark your faults Nor for these trifles fear to lose your love Those things which now seem frivolous and slight Will be of serious consequence to you When they have made you once Ridiculous A Mad Dog's foam th' Infection of the Plague And all the Judgments of the angry Gods We are not all more heedfully to shun Than Poetasters in their raging fits Follow'd and pointed at by Fools and Boys But dreaded and proscrib'd by Men of Sense If in the Raving of a frantick Muse And minding more his Verses than his Way Any of these should drop into a Well Tho' he might burst his Lungs to call for help No Creature would assist or pity him But seem to think he fell on purpose in Hear how an old Sicilian Poet died Empedocles mad to be thought a God In a cold fit leap'd into Aetna's Flames Give Poets leave to make themselves away Why should it be a greater sin to kill Than to keep Men alive against their will Nor was this chance But a deliberate choice For if Empedocles were now reviv'd He would be at his Frolick once again And his pretensions to Divinity 'T is hard to say whether for Sacrilege Or Incest or some more unheard of Crime The Rhyming Fiend is sent into these Men
blow Swift Executors of his holy Word Whirlwinds and Tempest praise the Almighty Lord Mountains who to your Maker's View Seem less than Mole-Hills do to you Remember how when first Jehovah spoke All Heaven was Fire and Sinai hid in Smoak Praise him sweet Off-spring of the Ground With Heavenly Nectar yearly Crown'd And ye tall Cedars celebrate his Praise That in his Temple Sacred Altars raise Idle Musicians of the Spring Whose only cares to Love and Sing Fly thro the World and let your trembling Throat Praise your Creatour with the sweetest Note Praise him each Salvage Furious Beast That on his Stores do daily feast And you tame Slaves of the Laborious Plow Your weary Knees to your Creatour bow Majestick Monarchs Mortal Gods Whose Power hath here no Periods May all Attempts against your Crown be vain But still remember by whose power you Raign Let the wide World his Praises sing Where Tagus and Euphrates spring And from the Danube frosty Banks to those Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows You that dispose of all our Lives Praise him from whom your power derives Be True and Just like him and fear his Word As much as Malefactors do your Sword Praise him old Monuments of Time O praise him in your Youthful prime Praise him fair Idols of our greedy Sence Exalt his Name sweet Age of Innocence Jehovah's Name shall only last When Heaven Earth and all is past Nothing Great God is to be found in Thee But Unconceivable Eternity Exalt O Jacob's Sacred Race The God of Gods the God of Grace Who will above the Stars your Empire raise And with His Glory Recompence your Praise TO ORINDA An Imitation of HORACE By the Earl of Roscommon Integer vitae c. Carm. Lib. 1. Od. 22. I. VIrtue dear Friend needs no defence No Arms but it s own Innocence Quivers and Bows and poison'd Darts Are only us'd by guilty Hearts II. An honest mind safely alone May travel through the burning Zone Or through the deepest Scythian Snows Or where the fam'd Hydaspes flows III. While rul'd by a resistless fire Our Great ORINDA I Admire The hungry Wolves that see me stray Unarm'd and single run away IV. Set me in the remotest place That ever Neptune did embrace When there her Image fills my Breast Helicon is not half so blest V. Leave me upon some Libyan Plain So she my Fancy entertain And when the thirsty Monsters meet They 'll all pay homage to my Feet VI. The Magick of ORINDA's Name Not only can their fierceness tame But if that mighty word I once rehearse They seem submissively to roar in Verse THE GROVE By the same Author AH happy Grove Dark and secure retreat Of Sacred silence Rest's Eternal Seat How well your cool and unfrequented shade Suits with the chaste retirements of a Maid Oh! If kind Heavâ—n had been so much my friend To make my Fate upon my choice depend All my ambition I would here confine And only this Elyzium should be mine Fond Men by Passion wilfully betray'd Adore those Idols which their fancy made Purchasing Riches with our time and care We lose our freedom in a gilded Snare And having all all to our selves refuse Opprest with Blessings which we fear to use Fame is at best but an inconstant good Vain are the boasted Titles of our Blood We soonest lose what we most highly prise And with our Youth our short-liv'd Beauty dies In vain our Fields and Flocks increase our store If our abundance makes us wish for more How happy is the harmless Country Maid Who rich by Nature scorns superfluous aid Whose modest Cloaths no wanton eyes invite But like her Soul preserves the Native White Whose little store her well-taught Mind does please Not pinch'd with want nor cloyd with wanton ease Who free from Storms which on the Great Ones fall Makes but few Wishes and enjoys them all No care but Love can discompose her Breast Love of all Cares the sweetest and the best Whil'st on sweet Grass her bleating Charge does lie Our happy Lover feeds upon her eye Not one on whom or Gods or Men impose But one whom Love has for this Lover chose Under some favourite Myrtle's shady Boughts They speak their Passions in repeated Vows And whilst a Blush confesses how she burns His faithful heart makes as sincere returns Thus in the Arms of Love and Peace they lie And whilst they Live their flames can never die THE DUEL OF THE STAGS Written by the Honourable Sir ROBERT HOWARD IN Windsor Forest before War destroy'd The harmless Pleasures which soft Peace injoy'd A mighty Stag grew Monarch of the Heard By all his Savage Slaves obey'd and fear'd And while the Troops about their Soveraign fed They watch't the awful nodding of his Head Still as he passeth by they all remove Proud in Dominion Prouder in his Love And while with Pride and Appetite he swells He courts no chosen object but compels No Subject his lov'd Mistress dares deny But yields his hopes up to his Tyranny Long had this Prince imperiously thus sway'd By no set Laws but by his Will obey'd His fearful Slaves to full Obedience grown Admire his strength and dare not use their own One Subject most did his suspicion move That show'd least Fear and counterfeited Love In the best Pastures by his side he fed Arm'd with two large Militia's on his head As if he practis'd Majesty he walk't And at his Nod he made not haste but stalk't By his large shade he saw how great he was And his vast Layers on the bended Grass His thoughts as large as his proportion grew And judg'd himself as fit for Empire too Thus to rebellious hopes he swell'd at length Love and Ambition growing with his strength This hid Ambition his bold Passion shows And from a Subject to a Rival grows Sollicits all his Princes fearful Dames And in his sight Courts with rebellious flames The Prince sees this with an inflamed Eye But Looks are only signs of Majesty When once a Prince's Will meets a restraint His Power is then esteem'd but his Complaint His Head then shakes at which th' affrighted Heard Start to each side his Rival not afear'd Stands by his Mistress side and stirs not thence But bids her own his Love and his Defence The Quarrel now to a vast height is grown Both urg'd to fight by Passion and a Throne But Love has most excuse for all we find Have Passions tho' not Thrones alike assign'd The Soveraign Stag shaking his loaded head On which his Scepters with his Arms were spread Wisely by Nature there together fix't Where with the Title the Defence was mixt The Pace which he advanc'd with to engage Became at once his Majesty and Rage T'other stands still with as much confidence To make his part seem only his defence Their heads now meet and at one blow each strikes As many strokes as if a Rank of Pikes Grew on his Brows as thick their
will seign Though I break my Heart disdain But lest I too unkind appear For ev'ry Frown I 'll shed a Tear And if in vain I court thy Love Let mine at least thy pity move Ah while I scorn vouchsafe to woo Methinks you may dissemble too Streph. Ah Phillis that you wou'd contrive A way to keep my Love alive But all your other Charms must fail When Kindness ceases to prevail Alas No less than you I grieve My dying flame has no reprieve For I can never hope to find Shou'd all the Nymphs I Court be kind One Beauty able to renew Those Pleasures I enjoy in you When Love and Youth did both conspire To fill our Breasts and Veins with fire 'T is true some other Nymph may gain That Heart which merits your Disdain But second Love has still allay The Joys grow aged and decay Then blame me not for losing more Than Love and Beauty can restore And let this truth thy comfort prove I wou'd but can no longer Love THE DIVIDED HEART By the same Author AH Celia that I were but sure Thy Love like mine cou'd still endure That Time and Absence which destroy The Cares of Lovers and their Joy Cou'd never rob me of that part Which you have giv'n me of your Heart Others unenvy'd might possess Whole Hearts and boast that Happiness 'T was Nobler Fortune to divide The Roman Empire in her Pride Than on some low and barb'rous Throne Obscurely plac'd to rule alone Love only from thy Heart exacts The several Debts thy Face contracts And by that new and juster way Secures thy Empire and his sway Fav'ring but one he might compel The hopeless Lover to rebel But shou'd he other Hearts thus share That in the whole so worthless are Shou'd into several Squadrons draw That strength which kept entire cou'd awe Men would his scatter'd Powers deride And conqu'ring Him those spoils divide To Mr. J. N. on his Translations out of French and Italian By the same Author WHile others toil our Country to supply With what we need only for Luxury Spices and Silk in the rich East provide To glut our Avarice and feed our Pride You Foreign Learning prosperously transmit To raise our Virtue and provoke our Wit Such brave Designs your Gen'rous Soul inflame To be a bold Adventurer for Fame How much oblig'd are Italy and France While with your Voice their Musick you advance Your growing Fame with Envy can oppose Who sing with no less Art than they Compose In these Attempts so few have had success Their Beauties suffer in our English Dress By Artless Hands spoil'd of their Native Ayr They seldom pass from moderately fair As if you meant these Injuries to atone You give them Charms more Conqu'ring than their own Not like the dull laborious Flatterer With secret Art those Graces you confer The skilful Painters with slight stroaks impart That subtil Beauty which affects the Heart There are who publickly profess they hate Translations and yet all they Write Translate So proud they scorn to drive a Lawful Trade Yet by their Wants are shameless Pirates made These you incense while you their Thefts reveal Or else prevent in what they meant to steal From all besides you are secure of praise But you so high our Expectation raise A gen'ral Discontent we shall declare If such a Workman only should repair You to the Dead your Piety have shewn Adorn'd their Monuments now build your own Drawn in the East we in your Lines may trace That Genius which of old inspir'd the place The banish'd Muses back to Greece you bring Where their best Airs you so Divinely sing The World must own they are by you restor'd To sacred shades where they were first ador'd Virtue 's Urania By the same Author HOpeless I languish out my Days Struck with Vrania's Conqu'ring Eyes The Wretch at whom she darts these rays Must feel the Wound until he dies Though endless be her Cruelty Calling her Beauties to my Mind I bow beneath her Tyranny And dare not murmur she 's unkind Reason this tameness does upbraid Proff'ring to arm in my defence But when I call her to my aid She 's more a Traytor than my sense No sooner I the War declare But strait her succour she denies And joyning Forces with the Fair Confirms the Conquest of her Eyes SYLVIA By the same Author THe Nymph that undoes me is Fair and Unkind No less than a Wonder by Nature design'd She 's the Grief of my Heart the Joy of my Eye And the cause of a Flame that never can die Her Mouth from whence Wit still obligingly flows Has the Beautiful Blush and the Smell of the Rose Love and Destiny both attend on her Will She wounds with a Look with a Frown she can kill The Desperate Lover can hope no redress Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess In Sylvia they meet so unhappy am I Who sees her must Love and who Loves her must die TO CELIA By Sir Charles Sedley AS in those Nations where they yet adore Marble and Cedar and their aid implore 'T is not the Workman nor the precious Wood But 't is the Worshipper that makes the God So cruel Fair tho Heaven has giv'n thee all We Mortals Virtue or can Beauty call 'T is we that give the Thunder to your Frowns Darts to your Eyes and to our selves the Wounds Without our Love which proudly you deride Vain were your Beauty and more vain your Pride All envy'd Beings that the World can shew Still to some meaner thing their greatness owe. Subjects make Kings and we the numerous Train Of Humble Lovers Constitute thy Reign This difference only Beauties Realm may boast Where most it favours it enslaves the most And they to whom it is indulgent found Are ever in the rudest Fetters bound What Tyrant yet but thee was ever known Cruel to those that serv'd to make him one Valour 's a Vice if not with Honour joyn'd And Beauty a Disease when 't is not kind THE SUBMISSION By the same Author AH Pardon Madam if I ever thought Your smallest Favours could too dear be bought And the just greatness of your Servant's Flame I did the poorness of their Spirits Name Calling their due attendance Slavery Your power of Life and Death flat Tyranny Since now I yield and do confess there is No way too hard that leads to such a bliss So when Hippomanes beheld the Race Where Loss was Death and Conquest but a Face He stood amazed at the fatal strife Wondring that Love shou'd dearer be than Life But when he saw the Prize no longer staid But through those very dangers sought the Maid And won her too O may his Conquest prove A happy Omen to my purer Love Which if the honour of all Victory In the resistance of the Vanquisht lie Though it may be the least regarded Prize Is not the smallest Trophy of your Eyes CONSTANCY By the same Author FEar not My Dear a
And Sacharissa shall for Venus stand Greece shall no longer Boast nor Haughty Rome But think from Britain all the Gods did come ON MYRA's Singing By the same Author THE Syrens once Deluded Vainly Charm'd Ty'd to the Mast Vlysses Sail'd un-harm'd Had Myra's Voice Entic'd his List'ning Ear The Greek had stop't and wou'd have Dy'd to hear When Myra Sings we seek th' Enchanting Sound And Bless the Notes which do so sweetly Wound What Musick needs must dwell upon that Tongue Whose Speech is Tune-full as another's Song Such Harmony such Wit a Face so fair So many pointed Arrows who can bear The Slave that from her Wit or Beauty flies If she but reach him with her Voice he Dies Like Soldiers so in Battle we succeed One Peril scaping by another Bleed In vain the Dart or glittering Sword we shun Condemn'd to Perish by the Slaughtering Gun IN Praise of MYRA. By the same Author I. TUNE the Harmonious Lyre Begin my Muse What Nymph What Queen What Goddess shall we chuse Whose Praises shall we Sing What Charmer's Name Transmit Immortal down to Fame Strike strike thy Strings let Echo take the Sound And bear it far to all the Mountains round Pyndus again shall hear again rejoyce And Haemus too as when th' Enchanting Voice Of Tuneful Orpheus Charm'd the Grove Taught Oaks to Dance and made the Cedars move II. Nor Venus nor Diana will we Name Myra is Venus and Diana too All that was feign'd of them apply'd to her is true Then Sing my Muse let Myra be our Theam As when the Shepherds do their Garland make They search with pains the Fragrant Meadows round Plucking but here and there and only take The Choicest Flow'rs with which some Nymph is Crown'd In Framing Myra so Divinely Fair Nature has taken the same care All that is Lovely Noble Good we see All-beauteous Myra all bound up in Thee III. Where Myra is there is the Queen of Love Th' Arcadian Pastures and the Cyprian Grove When Myra Walks so Charming is her Meen In every Movement every Grace is seen When Myra speaks so just's the sense and strong So Sweet the Voice 't is like the Muse's Song Place me on Mountains of Eternal Snow Where all is Ice all Winter Winds that blow Or cast me underneath the Burning Line Where everlasting Sun do's shine Where all is scorcht Whatever you decree Ye Gods whereever I shall be Myra shall still be Lov'd and still Ador'd by Me. SONG By the same Author PRepar'd to Rail Resolv'd to Part When I approach the Perjur'd Maid What is it awes my Timorous Heart Why is my Tongue afraid With the least Glance a little kind Such wondrous Pow'r have Myra's Charms She drives my Doubts Enslaves my Mind And all my Rage disarms Forgetful of her broken Vows when gazing on that Form Divine Her Injur'd Vassal trembling bows Nor dares the Slave Repine SONG By the same Author SO Smooth and so Serene but now What means this Change on Myra's Brow Her Aguish Love now glows and burns Then chills and shakes and the Cold Fit returns Mockt with deluding Vows and Smiles When on her Pity I depend My airy hope she soon beguiles And Laughs to see my Labours never end So up the Steepy Hill with pain The weighty Stone is rowl'd in vain Which having toucht the top recoils And leaves the Labourer to renew his Toils VERSES Sent from an Unknown Hand To Mr. G. GRANVILLE In the Countrey WHY G I le is thy Life confin'd To Shades Thou whom the Gods design'd In publick to do credit to Mankind Why sleeps the Noble Ardour of thy Bloud Which from thy Ancestors so many Ages past From Rollo down to Bevil Floud And then appear'd again at last In Thee whom thy Victorious Lance Bore the Disputed Prize from all the Youth of In the first Tryals which are made for Fame Those to whom Fate Success denies If taking Counsel from their Shame They modestly Retreat they 're Wise But why should you who still succeed In all you do whether with Graceful Art you lead The fiery Barb or with as Graceful Motion tread At shining Balls where all agree To give the highest Praise and the first Place to Thee So Lov'd and Prais'd whom all Admire Why why should you from Courts or Camps retire If Celia is unkind if it can be That any Nymph can be unkind to Thee If Pensive made by Love you thus retire Awake your Muse and string your Lyre Thy tender Song and thy Melodious Strain Can never be addrest in vain She needs will Love and we shall have Thee back again SONG By Sir George Etherege TELL me no more you Love in vain Fair Celia You this Passion feign Can they pretend to Love who do Refuse what Love perswades them to Who once has felt his Active Flame Dull Laws of Honour will disdain You wou'd be thought his Slave and yet You will not to his Pow'r submit More Cruel then those Beauties are Whose Coyness wounds us to despair For all the kindness which you shew Each Smile and Kiss which you bestow Are like those Cordials which we give To Dying Men to make them Live And Languish out an Hour in pain Be Kinder Celia or Disdain To Her EXCELLENCE the MARCHIONESS OF NEW-CASTLE After the Reading of Her Incomparable POEMS By the same Author Madam WIth so much Wonder we are struck When we begin to Read your matchless Book A while your own excess of Merit stays Our forward Pens and does suspend your Praise Till Time our Minds does gently recompose Allays this Wonder and our Duty shews Instructs us how your Virtues to proclaim And what we ought to pay to your Great Fame Your Fame which in your Countrey has no Bounds But wheresoever Learning 's known resounds Those Graces Nature did till now divide Your Sexes Glory and our Sexes Pride Are joyn'd in you and all to you submit The brightest Beauty and the sharpest Wit No Faction here or fiery Envy sways They give you Myrtle while we offer Bays What Mortal dares dispute those Wreaths with You Arm'd thus with Light'ning and with Thunder too This made the Great New-Castle's Heart your Prize Your Charming Soul and your Victorious Eyes Had only pow'r his Martial Mind to tame And raise in his Heroick Breast a Flame A Flame which with his Courage still aspires As if Immortal Fuel fed those Fires This Mighty Chief and your Great Self made One Together the same Race of Glory run Together in the Wings of Fame you move Like yours his Vertue And like yours his Love While we your Praise endeav'ring to rehearse Pay that great Duty in our Humble Verse Such as may justly move your Anger You Like Heaven forgive them and accept them too But what we cannot your brave Hero pays He builds those Monuments we strive to raise Such as to after Ages shall make known While he records your Deathless Fame his own So when an Artist some
Author LOVE still has something of the Sea From whence his Mother rose No time his Slaves from doubt can free Nor give their Thoughts repose They are becalm'd in clearest Days And in rough weather tost They wither under cold delays Or are in Tempests lost One while they seem to touch the Port Then straight into the Main Some angry Wind in cruel sport Their Vessel drives again At first Disdain and Pride they fear Which if they chance to scape Rivals and falshood soon appear In a more dreadful Shape By such degrees to Joy they come And are so long withstood So slowly they receive the Sum It hardly does them good 'T is Cruel to prolong a Pain And to defer a Bliss Believe me gentle Hermione No less Inhumane is And Hundred Thousand Oaths your Fears Perhaps would not remove And if I gaz'd a Thousand Years I could no deeper Love 'T is fitter much for you to guess Than for me to explain But grant O grant that Happiness Which only does remain A DIALOGUE BETWEEN AMINTAS AS and CELIA By the same Author Celia A Mintas I am come alone According as I said But whither is thy Honour flown I fear I am betray'd The Looks are chang'd and in the place Of Innocent Desires Methinks I see thy Eyes and Face Burn with unusual Fires Amintas Sees not my Celia Nature wear One Countenance in the Spring And yet another Shape prepare To bring the Harvest in Look on the Eagle how unlike He to the Egg is found When he prepares his Pownce to strike His Prey against the ground Fears might my Infant Love become 'T were want of kindness now Should Modesty my Hope benum Or check what you allow Celia Amintas hold What could you worse To worst of Women do Ah! How could you a Passion nurse So much my Honour's Foe Amintas Make not an Idol of a Toy Which every breath can shake Which all must have or none enjoy What course so e'er we take Whil'st Women hate or Men are vain You cannot be secure What makes my Celia then a pain So fruitless to endure Celia Could I the World neglect for Thee Thy Love though dear it cost In some unkind Conceit of me Would be untimely lost Thou would'st thy own Example fear And every heedless word I chance let fall beyond thy Care Would some new doubt afford Amintas If I am Jealous 't is because I know not where you Love With me fulfil Love's gentle Laws And all my Fears remove Celia Women like things at second hand Do half their Value lose But whilst all Courtship they withstand May at their Pleasure choose Amintas This were a fine Discourse my Dear If we were not alone But now Love whispers in my Ear There 's somewhat to be done She said she never would forgive He Kissing swore she should And told her she was mad to strive Against their Mutual Good What farther past I cannot tell But sure not much amiss He vow'd he Lov'd her dearly well She answered with a Kiss THE LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAH By Mrs. Wharton CHAP. I. The ARGUMENT Verse 1. The Miserable Estate of Jerusalem by reason of her Sin 12. She Complaineth of her Grief 18. And confesseth God's Judgments to be Righteous 1. HOW doth the Mournful Widow'd City bow She that was once so great Alas how low Once fill'd with Joy with Desolation now 2. Tears on her Cheeks and Sables on her Head She mourns her Lover's lost and Comfort 's Dead Alas alas lost City where are those So proud once to be Friends now turn'd her Foes 3. Judah is gone alas to Bondage gone Amongst the Heathen Judah mourns alone Griev'd and in Servitude she finds no rest Follw'd by none but those by whom opprest 4. The Feasts of Zion no one now attends Unhappy Zion destitute of Friends Her Priests still Sigh and all her Virgins Mourn Because her Gladness now finds no return 5. Her Enemies are great and ever nigh Still Fortunate because her Crimes were high Her Captiv'd Children still her guilt upbraid Who Mourn whilst their Insulting Foes Invade 6. Her Beauty which excell'd is now no more That brightness which all Nations did Adore Here Princes are like hunted Harts become Breathless and Faint whilst the Pursuit goes on Alas for Zion all their Strength is gone 7. Jerusalem then thought upon the Hour When she was Crown'd with Peace Delight and Power Thoughts once so Joyful Mournful now and Vain The Foe Insults whilst she no help fustains Mocking both at her Sabbaths and her Pains 8. Her Crims have caus'd her to be far remov'd Jerusalem who was so well belov'd All those who in her Pride admir'd her Fame Despise her now because thy've seen her Shame Sighing she turns away with Shame distrest Amaz'd Despis'd Deserted and Opprest 9. Circl'd with Guilt and Shame she cannot fly Her Comforts far remov'd her End too nigh She vainly think on that 't is now too late Behold those Griefs which no one can repeat Her Fall is steep and all her Foes are great 10. Her Sanctuary is by them betray'd All her Delights they carelesly invade Even the Heathen of whom God had said They should not in her Holy Temple tread 11. Her hungry People sigh and give away For Bread their Treasures lest their Lives decay Consider Lord see her with Gares bow'd down For I am Vile and Zion left alone 12. All you who pass this way behold and see Are my Griefs small Do others grieve like me Are not these Sorrows under which I bow With which the Lord hath brought my Soul so low Turn back and Mourn with me because my Lord In his fierce Anger doth no Peace afford 13. He from above hath Flames and Horrour sent Circling my Soul with Pain and Discontent His Snares alas my weary Feet betray Whilst Desolate and Faint I Mourn all Day For Zion lost her Glory thrown away 14. Our Sins have brought those Chains which his Command Hath fastn'd now who can his Power withstand Now they are link'd by his Almighty Hand The Lord forsakes and I am now the scorn Of Enemies because of God forlorn He was my Strength and now alas 't is gone 15. My Mighty Men are all by him cast down They 're crush'd by numbers and I 'm left alone Whilst silently thy Virgin Daughters Mourn Unhappy Mournful Judah left Forlorn 16. For this I Weep and waste my self in Tears Because her Help 's far off and Sorrow's near Ah wretched Judah where is now thy hope Thy Foes still triumph whilst thy Children droop 17. Zion spreads forth her Arms to be reliev'd But who can Comfort whom the Lord hath Griev'd Her Enemies increase and flourish still By his Command by his all-powerful Will Ah wretched City scorn'd and sham'd by all Who can enough lament thy dreadful Fall 18. Yet he is Just for I am Guilty found The Lord with Righteousness is always Crown'd Ye that pass by see me with Sorrows Drown'd My