Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems on Several Occasions

By Mary Masters

Masters, Mary (ca. 1706-ca. 1759)

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TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE Earl of BURLINGTON.

The Female Triumph.

AN ANSWER TO A PANEGYRICK,

To Marinda, at Parting.

A Question to Marinda.

On Marinda's Marriage.

The Defense of my self.

Clemene's Character.

To Clemene.

The 139th Psalm.

To a Gentleman who questioned my being the Author of the foregoing Verses.

On the Death of Miss Molly Lombe.

To the same, on the Birth of her Son.

To the Sun, in a cold dry Season.

Defence of Myrtillo .

Sent to a Lady with Myrtillo's Poems.

To Clemene, leaving the Country in Autumn.

On Beauty.

To Bellaria, looking at Philander, as he counterfeited Sleep in an Alcove.

A Petition to a Steel Thimble, which a Lady usually wore in her Bosom; wrote at the Request of a Gentleman.

To Marinda, on the New-year, being the first Year of her Marriage.

Another on the same.

Upon his late Majesty's going to Sea, in June 1724.

To Myrtillo, desiring him to write a Poem on the Coronation of their present Majesties.

The Heir of Arthington,

To Belinda, a Love Epistle, wrote at the Request of a Gentleman.

To the same.

Occasion'd by Clemene's refusing a Request.

On the Marriage of Captain C.

To Mrs. Barker of York,

At taking Leave of a Lady, who was reading Norris's Poems.

To a Lady on her Birth-Day.

The 39th Psalm.

The Resolution broke.

To Mrs. Masters, occasion'd by her Resolution to write no more.

The Answer to the foregoing Verses.

Maria in Affliction.

The Consolations of Friendship.

On a White-Rose presented me on the 10th of June. Extempore.

Sent to a Friend on Valentine-day.

On Oriana's Marriage.

To Clemene on her Birth-day.

To Guardian Angels.

On changing my Lodgings.

Emblems of Clemene.

To Mrs. M. E. who gave me a Plaister of her own making, when I had wrench'd my Ancle.

An Answer to Mr. G's Invitation to the Fields and Groves.

Sent to Marinda from the North of England.

SELF-DECEIT.

To Mrs. B.

An Imitation of a Poem in Dryden's Collections, entitled Anacreontick.

On a Gnat flying about a Candle.

To a Lady going to Church.

Nocturnal Thoughts.

To Clemene on the New Year.

On hearing some Reflections upon a deceas'd Lady.

The 29th Psalm.

To my Infant Niece; her little Sister dying the Instant she was born.

Upon the same.

A Journey from Otley to Wakefield.

To Olinda, taken ill with a Fever at the same time that I recover'd of one.

To the same; enquiring why I wept.

On a Nosegay made by Clemene.

To Mr. J. P. on his Marriage.

To Lucinda.

To Clemene, leaving the Country in a gloomy Day.

To the same weeping.

To a Lady, who ask'd my Opinion of an old Gentleman she design'd to marry.

On seeing a Lady with a new fashion'd Riding-Dress, and a Hat cock'd up.

To Clemene, on her Birth-day.

Verses occasion'd by a Lady being extremely ill one Night, and perfectly well the next Day.

A Reflection upon my own Formation.

A Morning Hymn.

The Penitent.

To my Self.

A Prayer for a sick Friend.

On Her Death.

The 37th Psalm.

A Meditation upon these Words, Arise, ye Dead, and come to Judgment.

The Vanity of Human Life.

Reasons against deifying the Fair Sex.

The Morning Frolick.

The Dedication to Manlius.

To Mrs. Masters, upon reading the 139th Psalm turned into Verse by her.

An Epistle to my Wife.

Verses on the Coronation.

Verses to the Memory of Mr. Addison.

The XC Psalm, translated from the Original.

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136

To my Infant Niece; her little Sister dying the Instant she was born.

Welcome sweet Innocence to Light,
Which Thou behold'st with wat'ry Eyes:
Too potent Rays oppress thy Sight,
And early Sorrows urge thy Cries.

Thou weep'st alas! and know'st not why,
Yet ev'ry Day the Cause will show:
More Knowledge will more Tears supply,
Thou com'st into a World of Woe.

Thy Sister not a year had stay'd,
Hardly attain'd a Gleam of Sense:

137

Yet at thy Entrance, Child, she fled,
She took a happy Journey hence.

Tho' young she dy'd, she had her share
Of Life's too certain painful Ills:
Torments, as great as Flesh can bear,
When sharp Disease relentless kills.

But, now, by Death, she's kindly freed
From the unequal, cruel Strife.
Blest be the Pow'r, that has decreed
A Period to this wretched Life.