Poems By the most deservedly Admired Mrs Katherine Philips: The matchless Orinda. To which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace Tragedies. With several other Translations out of French |
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To Mr. Henry Vaughan, Silurist, on his Poems.
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To Mr. Henry Vaughan, Silurist, on his Poems.
Had I ador'd the multitude, and thenceGot an antipathy to Wit and Sense,
And hugg'd that fate in hope the World would grant
'Twas good affection to be ignorant;
Yet the feast Ray of thy bright sandy seen,
I had converted, or excuseless been;
For each Birth of thy Muse to after times
Shall expiate for all this Age's crimes.
First shines thy Amoret, twice crown'd by thee,
Once by thy Love, next by thy Poetry:
Where thou the best of Unions dost dispence,
Truth cloth'd in Wit, and Love in Innocence.
So that the muddiest Lovers may learn here,
No Fountains can be sweet that are not clear.
There Juvenal reviv'd by thee declares
How flat man's Joys are, and how mean his Cares;
And generously upbraids the World that they
Should such a value for their Ruine pay.
But when thy sacred Muse diverts her Quill,
The Landskip to design of Leon's hill;
As nothing else was worthy her or thee,
So we admire almost t' Idolatry.
What Savage breast would not be rap'd to find
Such Jewels in such Cabinets enshrin'd
Thou (fill'd with Joys too great to see or count)
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And with a candid, yet unquestion'd aw,
Restor'st the Golden Age when Verse was Law.
Instructing us thou so secur'st thy fame,
That nothing can disturb it but my name;
Nay I have hopes that standing so near thine
'Twill lose its dross, and by degrees refine.
Live till the disabused World consent,
All Truths of Use, or Strength, or Ornament,
Are with such Harmony by thee display'd
As the whole World was first by Number made;
And from the charming rigour thy Muse brings,
Learn, there's no pleasure but in serious things.
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