Aedes Badmintonianae :: :: University of Virginia Library

Aedes Badmintonianae

A poem Most Humbly Presented To His Grace Henry Duke of Beaufort, &c. and To Her Grace Mary Dutchess Dowager of Beaufort, &c. Upon Their Magnificent and Delightful seat in Gloucester-shire [by Joseph Trapp]

Trapp, Joseph (1679-1747)

[section]

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

Hic locus est, quem (si verbis audacia detur)
Haud timeam magni dixisse palatia Cœli.
Metamorph. Lib. I.

To The most Illustrious and truly Noble His Grace HENRY Duke of BEAUFORT, Marquiss and Earl of Worcester, Earl of Glamorgan, Baron HERBERT of Chepstow, Ragland, and Gower, &c. AS ALSO To The Right Noble Her Grace MARY Dutchess Dowager of BEAUFORT, &c.

Ædes Badmintonianæ.

Blest Heav'nly Mind, who from Thy native Skys
Art sent to watch This blissful Paradise;
Whose Care and Hallow'd Presence guard, and grace
The Noble Somerset's Illustrious Race:
Great Thou (for sure so vast a Charge as Thine
Heav'n to no vulgar Angel would assign)
Say, did the World a lovelier Scene display,
When Nature rose all gaudy, and all gay,
And smil'd upon the New-created Day;
Than These delightful Walks, This sweet Retreat,
And all the Pleasures of This happy Seat?
Say bright Interpreter; for Thou wert by,
When God from Chaos, and wild Anarchy
Mark'd out the World with pregnant Heat made warm,
And spoke the shapeless Embryo into Form:
Thou saw'st the Earth it's Virgin Beauties wear,
And in the Youth of it's First Spring appear.
But Thou, left I with low, unequal Lays
Lessen that Greatness which I strive to praise,
Do Thou exalt my Voice, inspire my Muse,
And slide into my Breast, and gen'rous Heats infuse;
Brighten my Mind with Thy celestial Beam,
And make my Verse as Noble as my Theme.

See how the lofty Fabrick shines on high,
Scorns This low Region, and affects the Sky;
Proudly It rears it's spacious Top, o'erspread
With wide unfolded Sheets of pond'rous Lead,
Which it's blew Surface to the Sun displays,
And with strong Force retorts his scalding Rays.
Ev'n He, as oft as He his Course renews,
Scarce larger Plains of solid Metal views;
When pointed Beams through Earth's deep Caverns pass,
Ripen thick Beds of Ore, and form the sluggish Mass.

A golden Globe fix't eminently high
With gilded Lustre strikes the wond'ring Eye;
Shines opposite to the bright Orb of Sol,
And seems to emulate His radiant Ball.

The stately Pile with Front Majestick stands,
Our Admiration, and our Love commands;
Claims our Respect, and awes us with Delight,
And while It ravishes, confounds the Sight.

Such is the beauteous Outside, such is seen
The Case of that bright Pomp that shines within.

Now for a nearer View, my Muse, prepare,
But view with Rev'rence, and approach with Fear.
Be curious here; survey each Room of State,
And see the glitt'ring Honours of the Great.
What Scenes of Glory open to the Eye,
Puzzling the Mind with bright Variety!
None but the Godlike BEAUFORT could dispence
Such vast Profusion of Magnificence.

First view (if Sight can comprehend it All)
The wide Dimensions of the spacious Hall.
No little carv'd Embellishments disgrace
The unaffected Grandeur of the Place:
No figur'd Arras from the forming Loom,
Nor less'ning Paint effeminates the Room.
Greatness would here in Gayety be lost.
And Want of Ornament adorns It most.
The lofty Ceiling of the high-built Roof
Looks Majesty, and awes us from above.
Here if we speak, the long continu'd Voice
Improves it's Accents, and extends the Noise;
Repeating Echoes from each side rebound,
And the Air waving trembles into Sound.
How will gay Notes, and vocal Airs conspire
In This sonorous Room to fan the Fire
Of gentle Love, and kindle soft Desire;
When to the Youthful Hero's longing Arms
His beauteous Bride shall yield Her Virgin Charms,

When tuneful Strings shall speak the gen'ral Joy,
And num'rous Verse salute th'auspicious Day?

If from this Prospect we divert our Eyes,
New Wonders still succeed, and still surprize:
Objects so various, that they All oppress
The Soul with too redundant Pleasantness:
Expression fails us, where we need it most,
And faint Description is in Wonder lost.
Too scanty are the Bounds of Verse: Let Those
Range more licentious in unbridled Prose,
Who Hither led by Fame in Flocks repair,
And scarce Their Adoration can forbear:
Let Them on ev'ry single Object dwell,
And to Their list'ning Friends distinctly tell
How here rich Furniture delights the Eye,
With all the Pomp of Princely Luxury;
How sumptuous Tapestry they here behold,
Wrought o'er with glitt'ring Threads, and stiff with Gold;
And Paint so exquisite, and so refin'd
No Age can tarnish, nor no Pencil mend:
Figures, in which so many Charms conspire,
That ev'n Apelles might with Rage admire.

But longer are Their wond'ring Eyes detain'd
By the Performance of a Noble Hand;
A Room (all careless Females to upbraid)
By it's Great Mistresses fam'd Art array'd.
She, to express Her commendable Hate
Of restive Greatness, and unactive State,
Studious of Needle-work Her Fingers moves,
And still the Credit of the Art improves.
The various Colours of the silken Thread,
The deep-dy'd Purple, and the sprightly Red,
To the fresh Beauties of gay Flow'rs She turns,
And with whole Spring Her matchless Work adorns.
Carnations here their painted Leaves disclose,
And there th'Embroid'ry blushes in the Rose.
That Grecian Dame, whose celebrated Skill
Old Bards in antiquated Legends tell,

Who ply'd the Distaff, while Her wand'ring Lord
Regions unknown, and distant Seas explor'd;
Should She revive, and in This gaudy Room
See Work transcending Her ingenious Loom,
With envious Indignation She'd repine,
And all Pretensions to the Art resign.

Nor stops our Wonder here: The Sacred Dome,
Where All at solemn Hours devoutly come,
With costly Ornaments She richly decks,
And soars above the Practice of Her Sex.
Womanish Trifles, and vain Toys She scorns,
And with rare Skill Religion's self adorns.
Excellent Princess!—But forbear, my Muse,
Thy feeble Nerves so great a Task refuse:
Such pious Labour Heav'n it self shall praise,
And Angels warble in immortal Lays.
O! would our Brittish Ladys learn t'aspire
To such Examples, and such Praise desire,
Their Worth, and Quality They would advance,
And spurn the Niceties of Modish France.

All This, and more the glad Spectator sees,
And treasures in His Mind the beauteous Images.
How do's His Joy the vain Reward excel
Of Those, who warm'd with Superstitious Zeal
Travel to visit, with devout Intent,
The Shrine of some Imaginary Saint;
Before the Consecrated Nothing pray,
And to some musty Relick Homage pay?
Much wiser Pilgrims They, who Hither come,
And carry such August Ideas home;
See Objects that delightfully surprize,
Engage Their Wonder, and deserve Their Eyes.

But Who that Maze of Pleasure can express,
Those winding Walks, and verdant Wilderness?
O! for that Heavenly Voice, that Charming Tongue,
Which blissful Eden's flow'ry Mansions sung:
Let That great Spirit leave th'Elysian Groves,
And change for These those Shades thro' which He roves

Resume His Pen, and with harmonious Lays
Describe more Pleasures than He there enjoys.

Long even Rows of tall and slender Trees
Stand thick, and tremble with the murm'ring Breeze;
In beauteous Order rang'd they shoot on high
Their spreading Tops, and skreen the Azure Sky;
In Friendship knit th'intangling Leaves they joyn,
And curling Branches in each other twine.
Here the Variety of diff'rent Ways
Returning in Themselves at once amaze
The Mind, and with delightful Error please.
She, who the subtile Lab'rinth did explore,
And trac'd those intricate Meanders o'er,
Through such inextricable Paths was led
By the safe Conduct of the guiding Thread.
O! had that Royal Maid been here confin'd,
Her Crown She chearfully would have resign'd;
No Clue She would have ask'd for Her Release,
But here have spent Her Days in lonely Peace:
With Pleasure These smooth Walks She would have crost,
And been more Happy, as She more was lost.
For Nature here and (Her fair Rival) Art
Conspire to please, and all Their Charms impart.
Here no luxuriant Sprouts intangling meet,
Shoot cross the Paths, or clasp about the Feet;
All even stand in regular Array,
And the strict Artist's nicest Laws obey.
Hither, when Sirius scalds the Hemisphere,
And scatters Fevers thro' the sultry Air,
Hither the Heroe chooses to retreat,
Nor feels th'Inclemency of Summer's Heat,
When Sol profusely scatters radiant Streams,
And thro' the Branches darts His trembling Beams.
Here warbling Birds tune Their melodious Notes,
And in soft Consort strain Their little Throats;
And Tufts of lively Flow'rs in blooming Ranks
Adorn the Walks, and fringe the verdant Banks:

Their balmy Sweats they lavishly dispense,
Perfume the ambient Air, and bless the feasted Sense.

Here bubbling Springs thro' sounding Pipes convey'd
Emerge beneath the cool refreshing Shade.
More pleasant was no feign'd Romantick Scene,
No purling Fountain edg'd with native Green;
No fancy'd Nymph's Imaginary Throne
Fenc'd round with pendant Shades, and living Stone:
Nor could Diana and Her Virgin Train
Fatigu'd with Hunting purer Springs attain,
When near cool Grotts secure from Phæbus's Beams
They bath'd Their beauteous Limbs, and wanton'd in the Streams.

Here Waters upwards forc'd to Heav'n aspire,
Forget their Nature, and ascend like Fire:
The hollow Tubes of Lead eject afar
Long trembling Streams, and wound the passive Air.
So Whales when weary of unactive Ease,
Dispos'd for Mirth, embroil the peaceful Seas,
And to divert Themselves a Tempest raise:
Thro' Their long Trunks They spout the foaming Floods,
And add new Waters to the pregnant Clouds.

Yet Nature there exhausts not all Her Store,
But still affords one charming Prospect more;
Where all That Verdure, which for Human Use
The Third Day of Creation did produce,
Is fed with vital Warmth, and genial Juice.
Not That wise Hebrew King, whose piercing Wit
Search'd Nature's Ways, and brought Her Works to Light,
Who knew each Vegetable's hidden Pow'r,
And trac'd the secret Use of ev'ry Flow'r,
Nurs'd Gardens more deserving of a King,
Nor in His Royal Walks maintain'd a nobler Spring.
For here besides those Plants, which from Our Earth
First rose, and to This Climate owe their Birth,
Ev'n Forreign Springs enrich the pleasant Soil,
And Both the Indies flourish in our Isle.
The various Species grow in even Rows,
Unfurl their op'ning Buds, and All their Pride disclose.

Here no degen'rate Plants forsake their Prime,
Nor lose their Nature, while They change their Clime;
But spread luxuriant, and their Leaves unfold,
Nor miss th'Indulgence of their native Mold:
For She, whose Soul is still by Action blest,
Impatient of the dull Fatigue of Rest,
The Artful Princess, who still governs here,
Studys their Tempers with experienc'd Care,
And reconciles them to this Northern Air.
Here with Delight She spends Her happy Hours,
Supports each drooping Herb, and props the falling Flow'rs.
So were the First of Human Kind employ'd,
Who a calm State of sinless Peace enjoy'd,
E'er Vice Their Godlike Nature did debase,
And Lust and Pride debauch'd Their guilty Race.

And ev'n when Boreas keens His Blasts, and pours
Thick Storms of driving Sleet and wintry Show'rs,
When other Herbs shrink up and disappear,
And Frost and Hail deform th'inverted Year,
Ev'n then exempted from the common Fate
These lovely Greens prolong their vital Date:
The Season's sharp Inclemency they shun,
And flourish independent of the Sun:
Cherish'd with artificial Warmth they spread
Their thriving Leaves, and fragrant Odours shed.
In Depth of Winter Spring her Pride displays,
For for dull Nature's slow Succession stays.
[illeg.] may they long their healing Force impart,
To lengthen Life, and aid Apollo's Art,
That no malignant, bold Disease may dare
{To} approach the Noble Race, or taint This Air:
Health never interrupted may they give,
And add long Life to Those by whom they live;
That You, Illustrious Prince, whom Heav'n has rais'd
[illeg.]dorn that Pile, which we have feebly prais'd,
[illeg.]ng Ages may amidst This Grandeur shine,
[illeg.]ight'ning the Lustre of the Noble Line.

May You the Praise of after Ages share
With Him, whose Name and Dignity You bear,
And be His Honour's, and His Vertue's Heir;
Who little ow'd to His high Birth and State,
And without Wealth or Title had been Great;
Whose gen'rous Mind no Limits could controul:
And be His Fame unbounded as His Soul;
Such Praises to His Memory are due,
For such He was, and such He still survives in You.
And as You now, like Him, Your Honours wear,
Not with a haughty, tho' a graceful Air,
So future Times shall in Your Actions see
His Courage, and unshaken Constancy;
Whose stedfast Honour did all Change disclaim,
Firm to it's first Resolves, and still the Same;
Whom Fortune could no Greater make, nor Less,
Nor Good could elevate, nor Bad depress.

Long may You live Your Country to adorn
With Princely Heirs, and Heroes yet unborn:
And long may She, whose Care You yet enjoy,
Thrice Happy while Her prudent Counsels sway;
Who forms Your Youth with masculine Address,
And yet with more than female Tenderness;
Long may She live in This delightful Place,
T'admire Your growing Fame, and bless Your smiling Race
And when You Both shall late from Earth remove,
And change These Mansions here for Those above,
No Honours shall You lose; but as of old
Rome's Emp'rour was with Deities inroll'd,
Commenc'd Immortal as He put off Man,
And where the Monarch ceas'd, the God began:
So when for Heav'n This Grandeur You shall leave,
More Grandeur in Exchange You shall receive;
A happier Seat than This You there shall find,
And wear more Glories than You left behind.

FINIS.