Poems on Several Occasions With Anne Boleyn to King Henry VIII. An Epistle. By Mrs. Elizabeth Tollet. The Second Edition |
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To a Gentleman in Love.
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
To a Gentleman in Love.
Say, in what gentle Sounds, what healing Strain,
The friendly Muse shall sooth the wounded Swain?
Thy self, the Muses Servant, best may know
To mourn in moving Verse the latent Woe:
Such Verse where Fear and humble Passion speak,
Where crowding Thoughts in soft Confusion break,
With falt'ring Eloquence the Fair might move,
Tho' cold as Northern Snows to mutual Love.
Tho' that perhaps thou hast in vain essay'd:
The Muse, at best, is but a faithless Aid;
So Princes by Auxiliars are betray'd.
Lonely thou wander'st where the sounding Stones
Of Balliol's Walls return thy hollow Groans;
Or where Severus' Work describes the Bound
Of Roman Conquests on the British Ground.
The ruin'd Pile stood threatning o'er the Waste;
Prodigious Monument of Greatness past!
Hither perhaps the pensive Lover goes,
To shun his chearful Friends, and speak his Woes.
How art thou chang'd? Thou! who wert always known,
With modest Wit our temp'rate Mirth to crown.
What? Cannot Politicks and deep Debate
What menaces the Church, or shakes the State,
How great Eugenius clouds the waning Moon,
What Spain intends, or they who drink the Rhone,
From thy unquiet Breast these Cares remove?
This 'tis, unhappy Youth! to be in Love.
The friendly Muse shall sooth the wounded Swain?
Thy self, the Muses Servant, best may know
To mourn in moving Verse the latent Woe:
Such Verse where Fear and humble Passion speak,
Where crowding Thoughts in soft Confusion break,
With falt'ring Eloquence the Fair might move,
Tho' cold as Northern Snows to mutual Love.
Tho' that perhaps thou hast in vain essay'd:
The Muse, at best, is but a faithless Aid;
So Princes by Auxiliars are betray'd.
Lonely thou wander'st where the sounding Stones
Of Balliol's Walls return thy hollow Groans;
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Of Roman Conquests on the British Ground.
The ruin'd Pile stood threatning o'er the Waste;
Prodigious Monument of Greatness past!
Hither perhaps the pensive Lover goes,
To shun his chearful Friends, and speak his Woes.
How art thou chang'd? Thou! who wert always known,
With modest Wit our temp'rate Mirth to crown.
What? Cannot Politicks and deep Debate
What menaces the Church, or shakes the State,
How great Eugenius clouds the waning Moon,
What Spain intends, or they who drink the Rhone,
From thy unquiet Breast these Cares remove?
This 'tis, unhappy Youth! to be in Love.
Or when thy jocund Friends the Board surround,
With rural Stores and native Liquors crown'd,
Such as the British Swains, industrious, drain,
From blushing Apples, or the bearded Grain;
The love-sick Youth discovers his Surprize,
By faded Cheeks and unregarding Eyes:
By rising Sighs which heave his struggling Breast,
And wand'ring Speech with sudden Pause supprest.
All smile; and some with friendly Anger chide,
Some pity thy Distress, but most deride:
While you sit by, with careless Head reclin'd;
The Fair alone employs your absent Mind.
We by your Doctrines may perhaps improve
For we, alas! are Hereticks in Love:
We may with Vows of Constancy make bold;
But you de Jure love—to have and hold.
With rural Stores and native Liquors crown'd,
Such as the British Swains, industrious, drain,
From blushing Apples, or the bearded Grain;
The love-sick Youth discovers his Surprize,
By faded Cheeks and unregarding Eyes:
By rising Sighs which heave his struggling Breast,
And wand'ring Speech with sudden Pause supprest.
All smile; and some with friendly Anger chide,
Some pity thy Distress, but most deride:
While you sit by, with careless Head reclin'd;
The Fair alone employs your absent Mind.
We by your Doctrines may perhaps improve
For we, alas! are Hereticks in Love:
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But you de Jure love—to have and hold.
Amantem languor & silentium
Arguit, & latere
Petitus imo spiritus.
Arguit, & latere
Petitus imo spiritus.
Hor. Epod.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |