University of Virginia Library

ODE.

To the Right Reverend Father in God GEORGE Lord Bishop of Winton, my very good Lord.

I.

A fair, and Vertuous Dame,
Bright as the Mid-day Sun, but more Divine,
My tender Age first overcame,
And made me to her part my Fortunes joyn.
With thoughts uncommon she my Mind inspir'd,
Then gave me Words their Image to express,
Whilst the dull World judg'd me to sloth retir'd,
Or piti'd, (which was worse) my Unhappiness,
(For such it counts those gifts, which Heav'n-born Souls possess.)
Through thousand ways she was my guide,
And changing still from what I was,
Tho her fair Eyes she with a Vail did hide,
I felt their Influence through my Liver pass;
So that for love of her I 'have undergone
Such Hardships, and such Risques have run,
That if at last I shall arrive
At th' happy Port, I hope to live
Beyond the power of Death, an Age, which She can give.

II.

'Twas many a Year, that thus She led me on,
Big with Conceit, and Youthful Fire;
For trial, as I since have known,
If I'd prove constant to my first desire,
Shewing me now her Mantle, Shade, or Vest,
But to my Fancy leaving all the rest:
With which yet well enough content,
My Youth I in her Service spent
So pleasantly, that I can scarce the Time repent.
At length, prevail'd on by my Prayers,
My Importunity, and Tears,
Her Glories She was pleas'd to show;
But then how little was't that I before did know?
“'Twas midnight with me sure, I said, till now.
And with the sight there rose a storm of Cares,
Amaz'd I at the Vision stood,
Wisht in my Arms, what yet I fear'd too good,
A Flame was in my Heart, and Ice was in my Blood.

III.

In this Surprize the heat I felt within
Gave me new Courage, and did make me bold;
Whilst the chil Fetters, which did hold
My Captive Powers, to loosen did begin,
And nearer I approacht to 'admire her Beauties yet unseen.
I came, and gazing stood, when she
Turning to mine her Heav'nly Face,
“Now, Friend, that I am Fair, said, you may see,
“Possibly Fairer than you ghest I was,
“I'm sure more Powerful, for what ever now
“Befits your Years but ask, and I'll bestow.
“'Tis a long time, Fair One, I said,
“That on you only have I placed my love,
“The Joys of which I here most truly prove,
“With Air before, and empty Shadows fed;
“But now so strangely smitte'n, that to require
“Ought but your Pleasure, were my' own ruine to desire.
With a Voice then, and look Divine,
Which chase'd my Fears, and did my Hope refine,
In this most gracious Speech, she answer'd mine.

IV.

“In your mad World, and its Impertinence,
“'Tis rare, but when my Worth is heard,
“The veriest Stock has felt some little sense,
“And my just Service for a time preferr'd:
“In love to me, and my rewards would burn;
“Only my cruel Enemy,
“That seeks what e're I build to overturn,
“Quenches the Flames I kindle with mine Eye,
“And makes all Vertue die;
“Promising largely, what he ne're can grant,
“Those Pleasures, and that ease he crys my Subjects want.
“But Love, my Friend, has said so much of you,
“And all he said I find so true,
“That you henceforth my Charge shall be,
“Unsought for Honours both to Gain, and Merit too.
“One of my choicest Friends I'll stile you now,
“And as to such, a Fairer Lady show,
“Than me you 'admire, where you more richly may your Love bestow.

V.

That can ne're be, I was about to say,
“When look she added to that Gallery,
('Twas a large Balcone rais'd on High)
“And if you can my words deny!
“Such Beauties are not seen by all, nor every Day.
I lookt, but strait inclin'd my Head,
With Wonder struck, and sacred Dread;
I lookt again, and felt within,
A new, and greater Flame begin:
Which as she saw her Railliery thus she drest,
“I well enough know where-about you are,
“And as the Sun, when he doth first appear,
“Makes every Star its twinkling ray devest,
“Perceive my Eyes now seem less bright,
“Since thus obscur'd by 'a greater Light;
“Tho to be hers, you need not me to leave,
“For to us both one Seed and Birth did being give,
“She as the Elder first, then I did mine receive.

VI.

A Strain so sweet my Tongue unloos'd,
And fearing now no more the Shame
I had conceiv'd, upon my hasty Flame,
Least my first Love should deem her self abus'd,
Thus I repli'd: “If this be true
(“And who dare doubt it once, since said by you)
“Thrice happy Father, and thrice happy Day,
“In which you two into the World were brought!
“And such from hence shall all that time be thought,
“Which others tell I' have fondly thrown away.
“'Tis now my Trouble more,
“Than e're it was my Joy before,
“That I reacht here so late, or did no sooner stray.
“But if I'm worthy, and 'tis fit to show
“Of your Condition more than what I know,
“A greater Honour you to none can ever do.
Looking me then to th' very Heart,
And with her Eye engraving there,
What e're she spake, in a deep Character,
Fixt and Compos'd she thus resum'd her part.

VII.

“Know then, 'twas our Eternal Father's Will,
“That we, like Him, should both Immortal be;
“But what's all that to you the while?
“Wretches enamour'd of your Slavery,
“For whom 'twere better, that the fault were ours,
“Of all the disrespect we find, than that 'tis only yours.
“Courted and Lov'd we were of Old,
“But now to such a Pass reduc'd,
“That she to Heav'n, and Contemplation us'd,
“Has taken Flight to reach her ancient hold:
“I stay'd behind a while, but have been so abus'd,
“That thither too I'll 'scape e're long,
“And only where she gives the ground, inspire the Song:
“For of my self I'm but her empty shade.
Then turning as about to go,
“But first receive as both our Gift, she said,
“This Wreath, which we for you together made!
And with her Hands she bound
Immortal Bays, my Temples all around.

Comiato.

To FERNHAM, Song, I'd have thee go,
Where thy great Patron at first sight will know
Both what's thy Sense, and Mystery;
Nor need'st thou Him, as thou must others show,
When they ask who these Virgins be,
That one is sacred POESY,
Th' other the Heav'nly Maid, THEOLOGY:
With whom thy Master long since deep in Love,
And destitute of Friends,
The fair One in his Suit to move,
Thee on the Message to his Palace sends.
Only remember thou his Leisure wait,
And nor intrude too soon, nor stay too late!
If He says thou art none of mine,
And so to Petrarch more incline,
Tell him our Thoughts were equal, as our Fate;
And that there lacks one Spirit to Write, and to Translate.