The Shamrock or, Hibernian Cresses. A Collection of Poems, Songs, Epigrams, &c. Latin as well as English, The Original Production of Ireland. To which are subjoined thoughts on the prevailing system of school education, respecting young ladies as well as gentlemen: with practical proposals for a reformation [by Samuel Whyte] |
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 | The Shamrock |  |
141
THE RECANTATION.
AN ODE.
By Love too long depriv'd of Rest,
(Fell Tyrant of the human Breast!)
His Vassal long, and worn with Pain,
Indignant, late, I spurn'd the Chain;
In Verse, in Prose, I sung and swore
No Charms should e'er enslave me more,
Nor Neck, nor Hair, nor Lip, nor Eye,
Again should force one tender Sigh.
(Fell Tyrant of the human Breast!)
His Vassal long, and worn with Pain,
Indignant, late, I spurn'd the Chain;
In Verse, in Prose, I sung and swore
No Charms should e'er enslave me more,
Nor Neck, nor Hair, nor Lip, nor Eye,
Again should force one tender Sigh.
As, taught by Heaven's informing Power,
From every Fruit, and every Flower,
That Nature opens to the View,
The Bee extracts the Nectar-Dew;
A Vagrant thus, and free to change,
From Fair to Fair I vow'd to range,
And part from each, without Regret,
As pleas'd, and happy, as I met.
From every Fruit, and every Flower,
That Nature opens to the View,
The Bee extracts the Nectar-Dew;
A Vagrant thus, and free to change,
From Fair to Fair I vow'd to range,
And part from each, without Regret,
As pleas'd, and happy, as I met.
142
Then Freedom's Praise inspir'd my Tongue,
With Freedom's Praise the Vallies rung,
And every Night, and every Day,
My Heart thus pour'd the enraptur'd Lay:
“My Cares are gone; my Sorrows cease;
“My Breast regains it's wonted Peace;
“And Joy, and Hope, returning, prove
“That Reason is too strong for Love.”
With Freedom's Praise the Vallies rung,
And every Night, and every Day,
My Heart thus pour'd the enraptur'd Lay:
“My Cares are gone; my Sorrows cease;
“My Breast regains it's wonted Peace;
“And Joy, and Hope, returning, prove
“That Reason is too strong for Love.”
Such was my Boast—but, ah! how vain!
How short was Reason's vaunted Reign!
The firm Resolve I form'd ere-while
How weak, oppos'd to Clara's Smile!
Chang'd is the Strain—the Vallies round
With Freedom's Praise no more resound;
But, every Night, and every Day,
My full Heart pours the alter'd Lay.
How short was Reason's vaunted Reign!
The firm Resolve I form'd ere-while
How weak, oppos'd to Clara's Smile!
Chang'd is the Strain—the Vallies round
With Freedom's Praise no more resound;
But, every Night, and every Day,
My full Heart pours the alter'd Lay.
Offended Deity! whose Power
My Rebel Tongue but now forswore,
Accept my Penitence sincere,
My Crime forgive, and grant my Prayer!
Let not thy Slave, condemn'd to mourn,
With unrequited Passion burn;
With Love's soft Thoughts her Breast inspire,
And kindle there an equal Fire!
My Rebel Tongue but now forswore,
Accept my Penitence sincere,
My Crime forgive, and grant my Prayer!
Let not thy Slave, condemn'd to mourn,
With unrequited Passion burn;
With Love's soft Thoughts her Breast inspire,
And kindle there an equal Fire!
It is not Beauty's gaudy Flower,
(The empty Triumph of an Hour)
Nor practis'd Wiles of female Art,
That now subdue my destin'd Heart;
O no!—'Tis Heaven, whose wondrous Hand
A Transcript of itself hath plann'd,
And to each outward Grace hath join'd
Each lovelier Feature of the Mind.
(The empty Triumph of an Hour)
Nor practis'd Wiles of female Art,
That now subdue my destin'd Heart;
O no!—'Tis Heaven, whose wondrous Hand
A Transcript of itself hath plann'd,
143
Each lovelier Feature of the Mind.
These Charms shall last, when others fly,
When Roses fade, and Lillies die;
When that dear Eye's declining Beam
It's living Fire no more shall stream:
Blest then, and happy in my Chain,
The Song of Freedom flows in vain;
Nor Reason's harsh Reproof I fear,
For Reason's self is Passion, here.
When Roses fade, and Lillies die;
When that dear Eye's declining Beam
It's living Fire no more shall stream:
Blest then, and happy in my Chain,
The Song of Freedom flows in vain;
Nor Reason's harsh Reproof I fear,
For Reason's self is Passion, here.
O dearer far than Wealth, or Fame!
My daily Thought, my nightly Dream,
If yet no Youth's successful Art,
(Sweet Hope) hath touch'd thy gentle Heart,
If yet no Swain hath bless'd thy Choice,
Indulgent hear thy Damon's Voice;
From Doubts, from Fears, his Bosom free;
And bid him live—for Love, and thee.
My daily Thought, my nightly Dream,
If yet no Youth's successful Art,
(Sweet Hope) hath touch'd thy gentle Heart,
If yet no Swain hath bless'd thy Choice,
Indulgent hear thy Damon's Voice;
From Doubts, from Fears, his Bosom free;
And bid him live—for Love, and thee.
An EPITAPH.
God works Wonders now and then;Here lies a Lawyer, and an honest Man.
ANSWERED.
This is a mere Law-Quibble, not a Wonder:Here lies a Lawyer, and—his Client under.
144
LINES, PRESENTED WITH A ROSE-BUD, TO A VERY YOUNG LADY,
Who appeared at the FANCY-BALL, at the Castle, in the Character of Flora.
Sweet Bud, whose forward Bloom displays
The Promise of a beauteous Flower,
May no rude Blight thy Freshness seize!
No Worm thy tender Leaf devour!
The Promise of a beauteous Flower,
May no rude Blight thy Freshness seize!
No Worm thy tender Leaf devour!
Light fall the Rains upon thy Head,
Safe be thy Beauty from the Storm,
'Till Spring's soft Breath thy Blossom spread,
And May unfold thy perfect Form!
Safe be thy Beauty from the Storm,
'Till Spring's soft Breath thy Blossom spread,
And May unfold thy perfect Form!
So, sweet to smell, and fair to view,
Thy ripen'd Glow shall long be seen;
And every Flower that drinks the Dew
Shall bow in Homage to it's Queen.
Thy ripen'd Glow shall long be seen;
And every Flower that drinks the Dew
Shall bow in Homage to it's Queen.
145
ON THREE BEAUTIFUL SISTERS, AT THE FANCY-BALL, FRIDAY, March 16th, 1769.
Three Forms like these had Paris seen,
Of old, on Ida's fabled Brow,
The lovely Preference, I ween,
Had scarcely been decided now:
Of old, on Ida's fabled Brow,
The lovely Preference, I ween,
Had scarcely been decided now:
For, sure, 'twere difficult to say,
On whom the envy'd Lot should fall,
When each could boast (as each here may)
The blended Excellence of all.
On whom the envy'd Lot should fall,
When each could boast (as each here may)
The blended Excellence of all.
Yet, Truth to speak, had I the Fruit,
Lest Rage in Sister-Hearts should glow,
I'd end at once the whole Dispute,
And give the Apple to Munro.
Lest Rage in Sister-Hearts should glow,
I'd end at once the whole Dispute,
And give the Apple to Munro.
146
RESPONSES OF THE PRIESTESS OF APOLLO, AT THE FANCY-BALL.
I.
Idly curious, would you knowWhat To-morrow shall bestow?
Hark! the Delphic Shrine replies,
'Tis now the Minute to be wise:
To Heaven's disposing Care resign'd,
'Grave this Lesson on thy Mind:
Employ aright the present Hour;
To-morrow is beyond thy Power.
II.
While
Pleasure's gay delusive Train
Attends thy Life's unfolding Spring,
While Flattery pours the welcome Strain,
And Love displays his gilded Wing;
Attends thy Life's unfolding Spring,
While Flattery pours the welcome Strain,
And Love displays his gilded Wing;
147
‘What Youth’ (you ask the Pythia's Art)
‘Shall next the soothing Tale supply?
‘What slighted Maid, with grief-swoln Heart,
‘Shall curse the Triumphs of your Eye?’
‘Shall next the soothing Tale supply?
‘What slighted Maid, with grief-swoln Heart,
‘Shall curse the Triumphs of your Eye?’
Enquire no more—To other Cares
Attend—From Earth thy Thoughts sublime:
Winter steals on; nor Beauty's Prayers
Avail to stay the Spoiler Time.
Attend—From Earth thy Thoughts sublime:
Winter steals on; nor Beauty's Prayers
Avail to stay the Spoiler Time.
Forsaken, then, by Pleasure's Train,
The yellow Leaf shall cloud thy Spring:
Truth then shall pour th'unwelcome Strain,
And Love for Flight expand his Wing.
The yellow Leaf shall cloud thy Spring:
Truth then shall pour th'unwelcome Strain,
And Love for Flight expand his Wing.
If, led by Vanity, or Pride,
In Folly's Maze you wildly stray,
What Hand thy parting Steps shall guide?
What Joy shall gild thy closing Day?
In Folly's Maze you wildly stray,
What Hand thy parting Steps shall guide?
What Joy shall gild thy closing Day?
Then think betimes—Obey the God—
To Virtue turn thy adoring Eyes;
She points through Life the unerring Road,
And marks thy Passage to the Skies.
To Virtue turn thy adoring Eyes;
She points through Life the unerring Road,
And marks thy Passage to the Skies.
148
III.
The general Question of the Day,Shall the Commons meet in May?
Broghill, who peeps behind the Curtain,
Smiles, and tells ye, “Yes, for certain.”
Syndercombe, at least as wise,
Frowns, and swears, “The Rascal lies.”—
The Delphic God (but not on Oath)
Agrees with neither, yet with both;
And, like King Phyz in Sheffield's Play,
At once pronounces, Ay, and Nay.—
Mortals, revere the mystic Rhyme,
Nor think Apollo deals in Fiction:—
Events yet in the Womb of Time
Must solve the present Contradiction.
Further seek not to explore;
Townshend's self can tell no more.
Two Writers, under these Signatures, who published Letters in The Freeman's Journal; the former, in Defence of, and the latter, in Opposition to, Administration.
A Phrase made use of, by a certain great Person, on an Application relating to the Meeting of P---ment, to which the above alludes.
149
STANZAS, WRITTEN On a blank Leaf of WEBB's Beauties of Poetry, Painting, &c.
PRESENTED TO The Right Hon. Lady ELIZABETH BIRMINGHAM.
To cultivate the Arts inclin'd,
Their Beauties skill'd to trace,
Bespeaks a liberal polish'd Mind;
Exists not in the base.
Their Beauties skill'd to trace,
Bespeaks a liberal polish'd Mind;
Exists not in the base.
Perusing Shakespear's lofty Thought,
Or what a Raphael drew,
By something Heavenly are we caught,
And learn to be so too.
Or what a Raphael drew,
By something Heavenly are we caught,
And learn to be so too.
Alike, when Handel's magic Strains
The listening Soul invite,
Delight in every Bosom reigns,
And Virtue with Delight.
The listening Soul invite,
Delight in every Bosom reigns,
And Virtue with Delight.
This, Webb in every Page displays,
Himself the living Test;
And, rendering others ample Praise,
His own stands forth confess'd.
Himself the living Test;
And, rendering others ample Praise,
His own stands forth confess'd.
150
By thee, Eliza, all are lov'd;
By thee in Practice grac'd;
Thy noble Mind by all improv'd,
In Virtue, Judgement, Taste.
By thee in Practice grac'd;
Thy noble Mind by all improv'd,
In Virtue, Judgement, Taste.
To Greatness born, and form'd to shine,
Be still the Arts thy Care;
Nor let meek Industry repine,
Nor modest Worth despair.
Be still the Arts thy Care;
Nor let meek Industry repine,
Nor modest Worth despair.
Desert shall raise her grateful Head,
To hail thy wish'd Approach;
And Orphans' Blessings, round thee spread,
Drive Envy from thy Coach.
To hail thy wish'd Approach;
And Orphans' Blessings, round thee spread,
Drive Envy from thy Coach.
Nor let the Widow's asking Tear,
In vain, assail thine Eye;
For Heaven respects the Widow's Prayer,
Repays the kind Supply.
In vain, assail thine Eye;
For Heaven respects the Widow's Prayer,
Repays the kind Supply.
Secure I plead, nor doubt Success;
Thy Fame my great Concern;
For, where the Lesson is, to bless,
I know thee apt to learn.
Thy Fame my great Concern;
For, where the Lesson is, to bless,
I know thee apt to learn.
Swift, on the Wings of radiant Truth,
Abroad thy Merit flies;
Thy Praise, sweet Maid, fills every Mouth;
Thy Charms engage all Eyes.
Abroad thy Merit flies;
Thy Praise, sweet Maid, fills every Mouth;
Thy Charms engage all Eyes.
And honest Pride dilates my Heart,
While Plaudits crown thy Name;
My Boast, all Goodness as thou art,
I blew the glorious Flame.
While Plaudits crown thy Name;
My Boast, all Goodness as thou art,
I blew the glorious Flame.
Waterstown, Tuesday, Dec. 25th, 1770.
151
THE LAST BOTTLE. WITH A RECEIPT for making PUNCH.
To a FRIEND.
One Bottle of Arrack, the last of my Store,
(For your Sake, and mine, I could wish it were more)
From the Cave, where quite bury'd in Saw-dust it lay,
Restor'd once again to the Light of the Day,
To the Friends of the Muse, whose benevolent Care
Our Labours rewards with a Plumb, or a Pear,
The Poet presents—and, lest you mistake it,
He sends you, moreover, Instructions to make it—
As the Bottle is large, and the Liquor is rough,
Four Lemons, I doubt, will be little enough:
For Sugar, you know it depends upon Taste;
But 'twill take, in my Mind, Half a Pound at the least:
Let your Water be boil'd; and, when it is cool,
Pour in just two Quarts—an infallible Rule—
Then stir it three Times; the Business is done.
(If you have not a Ladle, make use of a Spoon)
Fill your Glasses all round; and—you know what should follow—
Long Life, and good Health to the Sons of Apollo!
152
To a Lady.
While brisk Champagne, and those bright Eyes,By Turns my Joys improve;
Love, changing Sides, the Bumper plies,
And Bacchus glows with Love.
Another.
[While thro' my Veins brisk Claret flows]
While thro' my Veins brisk Claret flows,And I behold those Eyes,
Cupid an arrant Drunkard grows,
And Bacchus love-sick lies.
153
THE CHOICE OF A WIFE.
To G. H. Esq;
Whene'er, my Friend, you chance to find
A Female who attracts your Mind,
Your Choice awhile suspend;
Examine nicely first her Heart,
If incorrupt, if free from Art;
To that, be sure, attend:
A Female who attracts your Mind,
Your Choice awhile suspend;
Examine nicely first her Heart,
If incorrupt, if free from Art;
To that, be sure, attend:
For Beauty soon familiar grows,
Or fades, as hourly fades the Rose,
Frail Tenant of Decay!
But Virtue, Life's extremest Length,
Improving, shines, and grows in Strength,
With each succeeding Day.
Or fades, as hourly fades the Rose,
Frail Tenant of Decay!
But Virtue, Life's extremest Length,
Improving, shines, and grows in Strength,
With each succeeding Day.
This is the Beauty worth your Care,
And not the Cheek, the Lip, the Hair,
The Eye, the Teeth, the Mien;
If no Deformity disgrace,
You 'll soon think that a lovely Face,
Where Truth, and Honour reign.
And not the Cheek, the Lip, the Hair,
The Eye, the Teeth, the Mien;
If no Deformity disgrace,
You 'll soon think that a lovely Face,
Where Truth, and Honour reign.
154
Be then the Purpose of her Heart,
Whom of yourself you'd make a Part,
Confirm'd and well inform'd
In all Things moral, and divine;
The Virtues more attractive shine,
By true Devotion warm'd.
Whom of yourself you'd make a Part,
Confirm'd and well inform'd
In all Things moral, and divine;
The Virtues more attractive shine,
By true Devotion warm'd.
Those Virtues still have least Allay,
And best will bear the strict Assay,
That on Religion grow:
Others to Fear, or Interest, yield,
Or shrink, or meanly quit the Field,
When Storms of Passion blow.
And best will bear the strict Assay,
That on Religion grow:
Others to Fear, or Interest, yield,
Or shrink, or meanly quit the Field,
When Storms of Passion blow.
Let no vain superstitious Fears
Create imaginary Cares;
For those, who mean the best,
Who 've only honest Ends in View,
Will carefully those Ends pursue,
And leave to Heaven the Rest.
Create imaginary Cares;
For those, who mean the best,
Who 've only honest Ends in View,
Will carefully those Ends pursue,
And leave to Heaven the Rest.
If Gratitude her Bosom swell;
If there, kind generous Pity dwell,
Meekness, and manly Sense;
If no Desire for Dress, or Play,
Can lead her steady Heart away,
Fear not her Innocence.
If there, kind generous Pity dwell,
Meekness, and manly Sense;
If no Desire for Dress, or Play,
Can lead her steady Heart away,
Fear not her Innocence.
Fair Virtue, Honour, Candour, Truth,
Alone maintain the Charms of Youth
Through every Stage of Life:
These with new Lustre ever glow,
And, every Day, new Charms bestow
Upon the Friend—the Wife.
Alone maintain the Charms of Youth
Through every Stage of Life:
These with new Lustre ever glow,
And, every Day, new Charms bestow
Upon the Friend—the Wife.
155
Those light the Lamp of pure Desire,
These fan the clear celestial Fire,
Bright Flame of lasting Love;
While practis'd Looks, and Airs and Smiles,
And Art, that thoughtless Men beguiles,
But Flashes—Meteors prove.
These fan the clear celestial Fire,
Bright Flame of lasting Love;
While practis'd Looks, and Airs and Smiles,
And Art, that thoughtless Men beguiles,
But Flashes—Meteors prove.
THE BIRD OF PARADISE.
A BALLAD.
While hungry Bards, from Garret high,
To Myra's Cheek, or Stella's Eye,
Their amorous Sonnets pen;
Unpractis'd in the Arts of Verse,
In simple Strain let me rehearse
The Praise of Molly Henn.
To Myra's Cheek, or Stella's Eye,
Their amorous Sonnets pen;
Unpractis'd in the Arts of Verse,
In simple Strain let me rehearse
The Praise of Molly Henn.
It was, alas! the first of May
(I never shall forget the Day)
I saw her first; and, then,
Such modest Worth, such winning Ease—
I could do nothing else but gaze
On lovely Molly Henn.
(I never shall forget the Day)
I saw her first; and, then,
Such modest Worth, such winning Ease—
I could do nothing else but gaze
On lovely Molly Henn.
156
Whiter her Skin than Mountain Snow;
Her Eyes are black as any Sloe;
Her Lips are red—but when,
O when she opes those Lips to speak,
The Smile of Hebe's dimpled Cheek
Is seen in Molly Henn!
Her Eyes are black as any Sloe;
Her Lips are red—but when,
O when she opes those Lips to speak,
The Smile of Hebe's dimpled Cheek
Is seen in Molly Henn!
An hundred Times I vow'd, I swore
An hundred Oaths, I'm sure, and more,
And I would swear again,
That, should I live to Nestor's Age,
No Charms should e'er my Heart engage,
But those of Molly Henn.
An hundred Oaths, I'm sure, and more,
And I would swear again,
That, should I live to Nestor's Age,
No Charms should e'er my Heart engage,
But those of Molly Henn.
To prove the Truth of what I say,
If any one should doubt, I'll lay
An hundred Pounds to ten,
In none of all the Sex he'll find
A fairer Face, or better Mind,
Than those of Molly Henn
If any one should doubt, I'll lay
An hundred Pounds to ten,
In none of all the Sex he'll find
A fairer Face, or better Mind,
Than those of Molly Henn
Nay more, though some may think I lie,
I'll swear (and let who will deny,
Poor, unbelieving Men!)
An Eden blooms where e'er she treads,
And Paradise its Fragrance sheds
Round lovely Molly Henn.
I'll swear (and let who will deny,
Poor, unbelieving Men!)
An Eden blooms where e'er she treads,
And Paradise its Fragrance sheds
Round lovely Molly Henn.
157
SYLVIA: A CHARACTER.
Inscribed to Miss MONTGOMERY.
For every Station of a Woman fit,
Sylvia has Spirit, sparkling Eyes, and Wit:
Nor let her Want of Stature raise a Strife;
In less of Matter there is more of Life.
Thus, Diamonds, lessen'd into Brilliants, rise,
And gain in Lustre, what they lose in Size.
Once, we must own, deluded by the Throng,
She lean'd to Folly; but she lean'd not long:
Prancing, and pert, she bounc'd into the World;
She talk'd, she titter'd, toss'd the Head, and curl'd;
By Nature lively, she grew wild by Art;
(‘For, sure, it was so pretty to be smart:’)
But, soon recovering, flush'd with Mirth, and Youth,
Contented she came Home to Sense, and Truth;
Of every foreign, idle Grace disarm'd,
She grew herself; she reason'd, and she charm'd:
Yet, though she reasons, she can trifle still,
With equal Spirit, and superior Skill;
Though with some Change of Manners, and of Stiles;
(For Folly laughs, but Wisdom only smiles)
The Pertness fled, the Sprightliness remains;
She, then, diverted; now, she entertains;
158
With lively Humour, and with easy Sense;
With nice Reflections on her present cast,
Or graceful Censures on her Follies past.
Shy to decide, though ready to discern,
Fond to improve, and not asham'd to learn,
For Reason, with the Charms of Fancy grac'd,
She feels a Relish, and she shews a Taste:
Her Life, by Principles, and Truth, she steers;
Not turn'd by every Whistle that she hears,
Like Half the Sex, from Matrons down to Girls,
With Eyes that twinkle, and an Head that twirls,
With Soul and Body every in a Dance,
The Slave of Fashion, or the Sport of Chance;
Now, light, and giddy; now, demure, and prim;
All Pride, and Passion, Prejudice, and Whim:
Her Heart, still regularly taught to beat,
Is warm with Nature's, not with Passion's Heat;
With her own Sorrows apt to swell, or flow
With generous Softness for another's Woe,
Which Friendship, Piety, Compassion move,
And every tender Sentiment, but Love:
Yet Love may get Admittance, too, but slow;
As yet a Stranger, only, not a Foe:
Her Heart is to be won; but, at her Price,
And is not so insensible, as nice.
Thus, every Virtue shining in its Place,
And, every Virtue follow'd by a Grace,
She claims our Praises. Are our Praises due?
The Picture charms us—Is the Picture true?
All Poets rant; their Fancy is their Law;
They colour brightly what they falsely draw:
Or, grant that one in twenty speaks his Mind,
He may not flatter; but, he may be blind:
159
And many flourish well, who reason ill.
Sylvia, your Worth the Writer's Fame ensures:
He drew the Picture; make that Picture your's:
Shew to the Women, how their Glories sink;
Shew to the Men, that Women dare to think;
'Till all confess, discovering whom I paint,
The Image faithful, though the Copy faint.
ELEGIAC STANZAS, To the Memory of A YOUNG GENTLEMAN,
Who died in the nineteenth Year of his Age.
Thine Eyes, dear Youth, are clos'd in Night;
Thy Thread, alas! is spun;
Cut off, at once, from Life, and Light,
Ere Half thy Sands were run!
Thy Thread, alas! is spun;
Cut off, at once, from Life, and Light,
Ere Half thy Sands were run!
How short the Date of human Things!
How transient are the Joys!
The Flower, that in the Morning springs,
The Evening Blast destroys!
How transient are the Joys!
The Flower, that in the Morning springs,
The Evening Blast destroys!
See where, absorb'd in silent Grief,
The childless Mother stands!
Some pitying Angel bring Relief,
And hold her frantic Hands!—
The childless Mother stands!
Some pitying Angel bring Relief,
And hold her frantic Hands!—
160
O lost too soon, lamented Shade!
Just opening into Man,
While Custom rul'd, and Passion sway'd,
Ere Reason's Power began—
Just opening into Man,
While Custom rul'd, and Passion sway'd,
Ere Reason's Power began—
Yet,—let me here the Word recall,
These rash Repinings shun—
'Twas Heaven's high Will decreed his Fall;
And let Heaven's Will be done!
These rash Repinings shun—
'Twas Heaven's high Will decreed his Fall;
And let Heaven's Will be done!
Let all, who lov'd his Worth, his Truth,
Remember them with Groans!
And all the Frailties of his Youth
Be buried with his Bones!
Remember them with Groans!
And all the Frailties of his Youth
Be buried with his Bones!
LINES, PRESENTED To a YOUNG LADY, with a SILVER THIMBLE.
A dame the Abbey's Tombs contain,By Puncture of a Needle slain.
Lest thee so dire a Fate betide,
This Armour, Nancy, I provide:
Nor wonder, that so small a Cause
Should open Death's devouring Jaws;
The Wound, my Heart receiv'd from you,
Is full as small, and fatal, too.
161
THE CHOICE OF A HUSBAND. WRITTEN BY A YOUNG LADY.
Inscribed to Miss COOPER.
You ask, if the Thing to my Choice were submitted,
You ask how I'd wish in a Man to be fitted?
I'll answer you freely, but beg you to mind him,
Your Friendship, perhaps, may assist me to find him.
You ask how I'd wish in a Man to be fitted?
I'll answer you freely, but beg you to mind him,
Your Friendship, perhaps, may assist me to find him.
His Age, and Condition shall first be consider'd—
The Rose on his Cheek should be blown, but not wither'd;
He should be, then—but, hark ye! a Word in your Ear,
Don't you think Five-and-twenty would fit to a Hair?
The Rose on his Cheek should be blown, but not wither'd;
He should be, then—but, hark ye! a Word in your Ear,
Don't you think Five-and-twenty would fit to a Hair?
His Fortune, from Debts and Incumbrances clear,
Unsaddled with Jointures, a Thousand a Year:
Though, to shew you, at once, my good Sense, and good Nature,
I'd not quarrel much, should it chance to be greater.
Unsaddled with Jointures, a Thousand a Year:
Though, to shew you, at once, my good Sense, and good Nature,
I'd not quarrel much, should it chance to be greater.
162
The Qualities, next, of his Heart, and his Head—
Good-natur'd, and friendly, sincere, and well-bred;
With Wit, when he pleas'd, on all Subjects to shine,
And Sense, not too great to set Value on mine:
Good-natur'd, and friendly, sincere, and well-bred;
With Wit, when he pleas'd, on all Subjects to shine,
And Sense, not too great to set Value on mine:
His Learning, and Judgement, shou'd seldom appear;
And his Courage be shewn, but when Danger is near;
With an Eye, that can melt at another Man's Woe;
A Heart, to forgive; and a Hand, to bestow.
And his Courage be shewn, but when Danger is near;
With an Eye, that can melt at another Man's Woe;
A Heart, to forgive; and a Hand, to bestow.
No Coxcomb who boasts of his Knowledge, or Arts;
Nor stiff with his Learning, nor proud of his Parts;
No dull, solemn Blockhead, who 'd fain be thought wise;
For, a Fool I detest, and a Fop I despise.
Nor stiff with his Learning, nor proud of his Parts;
No dull, solemn Blockhead, who 'd fain be thought wise;
For, a Fool I detest, and a Fop I despise.
Thus I've try'd to mark out, in these whimsreal Lays,
The Partner I wish for the Rest of my Days:
Go find out the Lad that is form'd to my Plan;
And, him I will marry—I mean if I can.
The Partner I wish for the Rest of my Days:
Go find out the Lad that is form'd to my Plan;
And, him I will marry—I mean if I can.
But, if it should chance—there's a Proverb, you know,
That Marriage, and Hanging, by Destiny go—
Should it happen that Fate has some other in Store,
The Reverse of the Picture I gave you before,
That Marriage, and Hanging, by Destiny go—
Should it happen that Fate has some other in Store,
The Reverse of the Picture I gave you before,
Should I chance to be curst with a Fop, or a Fool,
Too perverse to be rul'd, yet too silly to rule,
What, then, could be done?—Without fighting, or arguing,
I think I would e'en make the best of my Bargain:
Too perverse to be rul'd, yet too silly to rule,
What, then, could be done?—Without fighting, or arguing,
I think I would e'en make the best of my Bargain:
I'd sit down content with the Lot that was mine,
And, though I might smart, yet I would not repine.—
You may laugh, if you please: But I 'll swear that I would
Do all I have told you—I mean if I could.
And, though I might smart, yet I would not repine.—
You may laugh, if you please: But I 'll swear that I would
Do all I have told you—I mean if I could.
163
THE HUE AND CRY.
To Miss R. at Channel-Row.
Know all—I speak it to my Cost—
Last Wednesday Night a Heart was lost;
And—but I hope it is not so—
I hear the Thief's in Channel-Row:
As many more may chance to stray,
And take the same clandestine Way,
To prove my own, beyond a Doubt,
I'll give you Marks to find it out.
Last Wednesday Night a Heart was lost;
And—but I hope it is not so—
I hear the Thief's in Channel-Row:
As many more may chance to stray,
And take the same clandestine Way,
To prove my own, beyond a Doubt,
I'll give you Marks to find it out.
A Heart it is of such a Kind,
Another such 'twere hard to find!
A faithful, foolish Thing, I vow,
That never stray'd away 'till now;
There, Honour holds her spotless Throne,
And Truth hath mark'd it for her own:
If such a Heart amongst you be,
The Toy, indeed, belongs to me.
Another such 'twere hard to find!
A faithful, foolish Thing, I vow,
That never stray'd away 'till now;
There, Honour holds her spotless Throne,
And Truth hath mark'd it for her own:
If such a Heart amongst you be,
The Toy, indeed, belongs to me.
O yes! Whichever of the Tribe
Hath got the Trifle I describe,
And sends it back, before 'tis dark,
To-morrow Evening, to the Park,
Secure, and whole, and free from Chains,
Shall be rewarded for her Pains:—
But, should she chuse to keep it still,
(As, who can guess a Woman's Will?)
The Owner hopes she 'll have the Grace
To send another in its Place.
Hath got the Trifle I describe,
164
To-morrow Evening, to the Park,
Secure, and whole, and free from Chains,
Shall be rewarded for her Pains:—
But, should she chuse to keep it still,
(As, who can guess a Woman's Will?)
The Owner hopes she 'll have the Grace
To send another in its Place.
A SECOND PROCLAMATION.
To Miss M. M. at Channel-Row.
Whereas—poor, giddy, thoughtless Elf,
Too innocent, alas! myself,
To guard against another's Art—
Last Wednesday Night I lost my Heart;
And thinking (though, I fear, in vain)
To get the Trifle back again,
I got a Letter fairly penn'd,
And sent to one I thought a Friend;
Offering, of my own free Accord,
Not only Pardon, but Reward:—
But she, without or Rhyme, or Reason,
(Which speaks her Party in the Treason)
Has, lest the Theft should come to Light,
Suppress'd my Proclamation quite.
Too innocent, alas! myself,
To guard against another's Art—
Last Wednesday Night I lost my Heart;
And thinking (though, I fear, in vain)
To get the Trifle back again,
I got a Letter fairly penn'd,
And sent to one I thought a Friend;
Offering, of my own free Accord,
Not only Pardon, but Reward:—
But she, without or Rhyme, or Reason,
(Which speaks her Party in the Treason)
165
Suppress'd my Proclamation quite.
Now—certain of my Friends insist,
And they were present when 'twas miss'd,
(I speak with equal Shame and Grief)
That M--- M--- is the Thief.
And they were present when 'twas miss'd,
(I speak with equal Shame and Grief)
That M--- M--- is the Thief.
Last Thursday Morn, 'twixt two and three,
(A heavy Hour, God knows, to me)
One Friend assures me, he can swear
He saw it with her in her Chair:
Another, who, at first, was loth,
Has offer'd to depose on Oath,
That, ere she left the Room above,
He saw her hide it in her Glove:
A third is ready to protest,
(Though not so strongly as the Rest)
That, Friday Evening, in the Way
Between Ringsend, and Aston's Quay,
He saw it fluttering 'neath her Coat,
As he sat by her in the Boat.
(A heavy Hour, God knows, to me)
One Friend assures me, he can swear
He saw it with her in her Chair:
Another, who, at first, was loth,
Has offer'd to depose on Oath,
That, ere she left the Room above,
He saw her hide it in her Glove:
A third is ready to protest,
(Though not so strongly as the Rest)
That, Friday Evening, in the Way
Between Ringsend, and Aston's Quay,
He saw it fluttering 'neath her Coat,
As he sat by her in the Boat.
Now, notwithstanding I can shew,
As clear as Day, that Things are so;
Although, by Men of Truth and Honour,
The Fact is fairly prov'd upon her,
In every Circumstance so plain,
That, to deny it, would be vain;
If she submits herself in Time,
And prays Forgiveness of her Crime,
On this Condition, I once more
Repeat the Offer made before:
As clear as Day, that Things are so;
Although, by Men of Truth and Honour,
The Fact is fairly prov'd upon her,
In every Circumstance so plain,
That, to deny it, would be vain;
If she submits herself in Time,
And prays Forgiveness of her Crime,
On this Condition, I once more
Repeat the Offer made before:
166
But, if before To-morrow Morning,
Neglecting this my second Warning,
She neither will the Toy resign,
Nor send her own instead of mine;
If with her Theft she will not part,
But still persists to keep the Heart;
In such a Case—the Law is clear,
As by the Records may appear,
Consult them all, you 'll find it true—
She e'en must take the Body too.
Neglecting this my second Warning,
She neither will the Toy resign,
Nor send her own instead of mine;
If with her Theft she will not part,
But still persists to keep the Heart;
In such a Case—the Law is clear,
As by the Records may appear,
Consult them all, you 'll find it true—
She e'en must take the Body too.
In ANSWER to the FOREGOING.
Whereas—about the Hour of Three,
This Afternoon, was brought to me
A Proclamation, setting forth,
That a small Bauble, little worth,
A Heart, I think, was stolen, or stray'd,
Lost, or some other how mislaid;
With some Insinuation, too,
That me the Thief some People knew:
This Afternoon, was brought to me
A Proclamation, setting forth,
That a small Bauble, little worth,
A Heart, I think, was stolen, or stray'd,
Lost, or some other how mislaid;
With some Insinuation, too,
That me the Thief some People knew:
Now, by these Presents, I declare—
And, if it be requir'd, I'll swear—
That such a Heart I never stole,
As is described in that Scroll;
Thousands I have in my Possession,
'Tis true; but few are of that Fashion,
Of which, in's Proclamation he
Declares the Heart he lost to be.
And, if it be requir'd, I'll swear—
That such a Heart I never stole,
As is described in that Scroll;
Thousands I have in my Possession,
'Tis true; but few are of that Fashion,
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Declares the Heart he lost to be.
Last Week, indeed, I can't tell how,
There follow'd me to Channel-Row
A Heart, I know not whence it came,
Nor will it tell its Owner's Name;
It is a rattling, foolish Thing,
Does Nothing else, but rhyme, and sing:
If 'tis for this the Hubbub's rais'd,
To give it up, I 'll be well pleas'd;
Nor shall I sorry be at parting
With such a Heart, while my Name's Martin.
There follow'd me to Channel-Row
A Heart, I know not whence it came,
Nor will it tell its Owner's Name;
It is a rattling, foolish Thing,
Does Nothing else, but rhyme, and sing:
If 'tis for this the Hubbub's rais'd,
To give it up, I 'll be well pleas'd;
Nor shall I sorry be at parting
With such a Heart, while my Name's Martin.
The same Evening, the supposed Author of the two former Pieces received the above, written in a fair Italian Hand.
THE HAPPY UNION.
Inscribed to Miss BOYD.
Pallas, and Venus, long at Strife,
For once, in Friendship join'd;
One undertook to draw a Face;
And one, to form a Mind:
For once, in Friendship join'd;
One undertook to draw a Face;
And one, to form a Mind:
Around, with Pencils in their Hands,
The Loves, and Graces wait,
Pencils in heavenly Colours dipp'd,
To render all compleat.
The Loves, and Graces wait,
Pencils in heavenly Colours dipp'd,
To render all compleat.
168
Pallas, with an attentive View,
All Nature's Stores survey'd;
Selecting, only, such as Bards
Give to the blue-ey'd Maid.
All Nature's Stores survey'd;
Selecting, only, such as Bards
Give to the blue-ey'd Maid.
Soon shone the Soul, an Essence pure,
That might with Angels vie;
Which Venus temper'd into Form,
And painted in the Eye:
That might with Angels vie;
Which Venus temper'd into Form,
And painted in the Eye:
The Eye, that Orb of Light, which shews
The Features of the Mind,
Distinct, as faithful Mirrours yield
The Forms of human Kind.
The Features of the Mind,
Distinct, as faithful Mirrours yield
The Forms of human Kind.
The finish'd Piece before them lay;
Each view'd the curious Frame:
Then said, ‘Go forth, thou Work divine;
‘Alethea be thy Name:
Each view'd the curious Frame:
Then said, ‘Go forth, thou Work divine;
‘Alethea be thy Name:
‘Go forth, thou Pattern of the Fair,
‘Thou Love of Gods, and Men;
‘Be thine, to charm the World below;
‘And visit us again.’
‘Thou Love of Gods, and Men;
‘Be thine, to charm the World below;
‘And visit us again.’
This said, uprose the living Form,
In all its Parts refin'd;
Venus gave Beauty to the Face;
And Pallas, to the Mind.
In all its Parts refin'd;
Venus gave Beauty to the Face;
And Pallas, to the Mind.
Poeticè: We have it on the Authority of Homer, and all the great Ancients, that superior Natures were known in Heaven, and amongst Mortals, by different Names.
169
TWO LOVE ELEGIES.
Argelitanas mavis habitare Tabernas,
Cum tibi, parve Liber, Scrinia nostra vacent.
Nescis, heu! nescis Dominæ Fastidia Romæ:
Crede mihi, nimium martia Turba sapit.
Ætherias, lascive, cupis volitare per Auras:
I, fuge; sed poteras tutior esse Domi.
Martial.
Cum tibi, parve Liber, Scrinia nostra vacent.
Nescis, heu! nescis Dominæ Fastidia Romæ:
Crede mihi, nimium martia Turba sapit.
Ætherias, lascive, cupis volitare per Auras:
I, fuge; sed poteras tutior esse Domi.
Martial.
ELEGY I.
['Tis Night, dead Night; and o'er the Plain]
'Tis Night, dead Night; and o'er the Plain
Darkness extends her ebon Ray,
While wide along the gloomy Scene
Deep Silence holds her solemn Sway:
Darkness extends her ebon Ray,
While wide along the gloomy Scene
Deep Silence holds her solemn Sway:
Throughout the Earth no chearful Beam
The melancholic Eye surveys,
Save where the Worm's fantastic Gleam
The 'nighted Traveller betrays;
The melancholic Eye surveys,
Save where the Worm's fantastic Gleam
The 'nighted Traveller betrays;
170
The savage Race (so Heaven decrees)
No longer through the Forest rove;
All Nature rests, and not a Breeze
Disturbs the Stillness of the Grove:
No longer through the Forest rove;
All Nature rests, and not a Breeze
Disturbs the Stillness of the Grove:
All Nature rests; in Sleep's soft Arms
The Village Swain forgets his Care:
Sleep, that the Sting of Sorrow charms,
And heals all Sadness, but Despair:
The Village Swain forgets his Care:
Sleep, that the Sting of Sorrow charms,
And heals all Sadness, but Despair:
Despair, alone, her Power denies;
And, when the Sun withdraws his Rays,
To the wild Beach, distracted, flies,
Or, chearless, through the Desart strays.
And, when the Sun withdraws his Rays,
To the wild Beach, distracted, flies,
Or, chearless, through the Desart strays.
Or, to the Church-yard's Horrors led,
While fearful Echoes burst around,
On some cold Stone he leans his Head,
Or throws his Body on the Ground.
While fearful Echoes burst around,
On some cold Stone he leans his Head,
Or throws his Body on the Ground.
To some such drear and solemn Scene,
Some friendly Power direct my Way,
Where pale Misfortune's haggard Train,
Sad Luxury! delight to stray:
Some friendly Power direct my Way,
Where pale Misfortune's haggard Train,
Sad Luxury! delight to stray:
Wrapp'd in the solitary Gloom,
Retir'd from Life's fantastic Crew,
Resign'd I 'll wait my final Doom,
And bid the busy World adieu.
Retir'd from Life's fantastic Crew,
Resign'd I 'll wait my final Doom,
And bid the busy World adieu.
The World has, now, no Joy for me;
Nor can Life now one Pleasure boast;
Since all my Eyes desir'd to see,
My Wish, my Hope, my All, is lost;
Nor can Life now one Pleasure boast;
Since all my Eyes desir'd to see,
My Wish, my Hope, my All, is lost;
171
Since she, so form'd to please, and bless,
So wise, so innocent, so fair,
Whose Converse sweet made Sorrow less,
And brighten'd all the Gloom of Care,
So wise, so innocent, so fair,
Whose Converse sweet made Sorrow less,
And brighten'd all the Gloom of Care,
Since she is lost:—Ye Powers divine!
What have I done, or thought, or said?
O say! what horrid Act of mine,
Has drawn this Vengeance on my Head?
What have I done, or thought, or said?
O say! what horrid Act of mine,
Has drawn this Vengeance on my Head?
Why should Heaven favour Lycon's Claim?
Why are my Heart's best Wishes crost?
What fairer Deeds adorn his Name?
What nobler Merit can he boast?
Why are my Heart's best Wishes crost?
What fairer Deeds adorn his Name?
What nobler Merit can he boast?
What higher Worth in him was found,
My true Heart's Service to outweigh?
A senseless Fop!—a dull Compound
Of scarcely animated Clay!
My true Heart's Service to outweigh?
A senseless Fop!—a dull Compound
Of scarcely animated Clay!
He dress'd, indeed, he danc'd with Ease,
And charm'd her, by repeating o'er
Unmeaning Raptures in her Praise,
That twenty Fools had said before:
And charm'd her, by repeating o'er
Unmeaning Raptures in her Praise,
That twenty Fools had said before:
But I, alas! who thought all Art
My Passion's Force would meanly prove,
Could only boast an honest Heart,
And claim'd no Merit but my Love.
My Passion's Force would meanly prove,
Could only boast an honest Heart,
And claim'd no Merit but my Love.
Have I not sate—Ye conscious Hours
Be Witness—while my Stella sung,
From Morn to Eve, with all my Powers
Rapt in the Enchantment of her Tongue!
Be Witness—while my Stella sung,
From Morn to Eve, with all my Powers
Rapt in the Enchantment of her Tongue!
172
Ye conscious Hours, that saw me stand,
Entranc'd in Wonder, and Surprize,
In silent Rapture press her Hand,
With Passion bursting from my Eyes,
Entranc'd in Wonder, and Surprize,
In silent Rapture press her Hand,
With Passion bursting from my Eyes,
Have I not lov'd?—O Earth, and Heaven!
Where, now, is all my youthful Boast?
The dear Exchange I hop'd was given
For slighted Fame, and Fortune lost!
Where, now, is all my youthful Boast?
The dear Exchange I hop'd was given
For slighted Fame, and Fortune lost!
Where, now, the Joys that once were mine?
Where all my Hopes of future Bliss?
Must I those Joys, these Hopes resign?
Is all her Friendship come to this?
Where all my Hopes of future Bliss?
Must I those Joys, these Hopes resign?
Is all her Friendship come to this?
Must, then, each Woman faithless prove;
And each fond Lover be undone?
Are Vows no more!—Almighty Love!
The sad Remembrance let me shun!
And each fond Lover be undone?
Are Vows no more!—Almighty Love!
The sad Remembrance let me shun!
It will not be—my honest Heart
The dear, sad Image still retains;
And, spight of Reason, spight of Art,
The dreadful Memory remains.
The dear, sad Image still retains;
And, spight of Reason, spight of Art,
The dreadful Memory remains.
Ye Powers divine, whose wonderous Skill
Deep in the Womb of Time can see,
Behold, I bend me to your Will,
Nor dare arraign your high Decree!
Deep in the Womb of Time can see,
Behold, I bend me to your Will,
Nor dare arraign your high Decree!
Let her be bless'd with Health, with Ease,
With all your Bounty has in Store;
Let Sorrow cloud my future Days,
Be Stella bless'd!—I ask no more.
With all your Bounty has in Store;
Let Sorrow cloud my future Days,
Be Stella bless'd!—I ask no more.
173
But lo! where, high in yonder East,
The Star of Morning mounts apace!
Hence—let me fly the unwelcome Guest,
And bid the Muse's Labour cease.
The Star of Morning mounts apace!
Hence—let me fly the unwelcome Guest,
And bid the Muse's Labour cease.
ELEGY II.
[When, young, Life's Journey I began]
When, young, Life's Journey I began,
The glittering Prospect charm'd my Eyes,
I saw along the extended Plan
Joy after Joy successive rise:
The glittering Prospect charm'd my Eyes,
I saw along the extended Plan
Joy after Joy successive rise:
And Fame her golden Trumpet blew;
And Power display'd her gorgeous Charms;
And Wealth engag'd my wandering View;
And Pleasure woo'd me to her Arms:
And Power display'd her gorgeous Charms;
And Wealth engag'd my wandering View;
And Pleasure woo'd me to her Arms:
To each, by Turns, my Vows I paid,
As Folly led me to admire;
While Fancy magnify'd each Shade;
And Hope increas'd each fond Desire.
As Folly led me to admire;
While Fancy magnify'd each Shade;
And Hope increas'd each fond Desire.
But, soon, I found 'twas all a Dream;
And learn'd the fond Pursuit to shun,
Where few can reach their purpos'd Aim,
And thousands, daily, are undone:
And learn'd the fond Pursuit to shun,
Where few can reach their purpos'd Aim,
And thousands, daily, are undone:
174
And Fame, I found, was empty Air;
And Wealth had Terror for her Guest;
And Pleasure's Path was strewn with Care;
And Power was Vanity at best.
And Wealth had Terror for her Guest;
And Pleasure's Path was strewn with Care;
And Power was Vanity at best.
Tir'd of the Chace, I gave it o'er;
And, in a far sequester'd Shade,
To Contemplation's sober Power
My Youth's next Services I paid.
And, in a far sequester'd Shade,
To Contemplation's sober Power
My Youth's next Services I paid.
There Health and Peace adorn'd the Scene;
And oft, indulgent to my Prayer,
With mirthful Eye, and frolic Mien,
The Muse would deign to visit there:
And oft, indulgent to my Prayer,
With mirthful Eye, and frolic Mien,
The Muse would deign to visit there:
There would she oft, delighted, rove
The flower-enamell'd Vale along;
Or wander with me through the Grove,
And listen to the Wood-lark's Song;
The flower-enamell'd Vale along;
Or wander with me through the Grove,
And listen to the Wood-lark's Song;
Or, 'mid the Forest's awful Gloom,
Whilst wild Amazement fill'd my Eyes,
Recal past Ages from the Tomb,
And bid ideal Worlds arise.
Whilst wild Amazement fill'd my Eyes,
Recal past Ages from the Tomb,
And bid ideal Worlds arise.
Thus, in the Muse's Favour blest,
One Wish alone my Soul could frame,
And Heaven bestow'd, to crown the Rest,
A Friend, and Thyrsis was his Name.
One Wish alone my Soul could frame,
And Heaven bestow'd, to crown the Rest,
A Friend, and Thyrsis was his Name.
For manly Constancy, and Truth,
And Worth, unconscious of a Stain,
He bloom'd, the Flower of Britain's Youth,
The Boast and Wonder of the Plain.
And Worth, unconscious of a Stain,
He bloom'd, the Flower of Britain's Youth,
The Boast and Wonder of the Plain.
175
Still, with our Years, our Friendship grew;
No Cares did then my Peace destroy;
Time brought new Blessings, as he flew;
And every Hour was wing'd with Joy:
No Cares did then my Peace destroy;
Time brought new Blessings, as he flew;
And every Hour was wing'd with Joy:
But soon the blissful Scene was lost;
Soon did the sad Reverse appear;
Love came, like an untimely Frost,
To blast the Promise of my Year.
Soon did the sad Reverse appear;
Love came, like an untimely Frost,
To blast the Promise of my Year.
I saw young Daphne's Angel Form,
(Fool that I was, I bless'd the Smart)
And, while I gaz'd, nor thought of Harm,
The dear Infection seiz'd my Heart:
(Fool that I was, I bless'd the Smart)
And, while I gaz'd, nor thought of Harm,
The dear Infection seiz'd my Heart:
She was—at least in Damon's Eyes—
Made up of Loveliness, and Grace;
Her Heart a Stranger to Disguise;
Her Mind as perfect as her Face:
Made up of Loveliness, and Grace;
Her Heart a Stranger to Disguise;
Her Mind as perfect as her Face:
To hear her speak, to see her move,
(Unhappy I, alas! the While)
Her Voice was Joy, her Look was Love,
And Heaven was open'd in her Smile!
(Unhappy I, alas! the While)
Her Voice was Joy, her Look was Love,
And Heaven was open'd in her Smile!
She heard me breathe my amorous Prayers,
She listen'd to the tender Strain,
She heard my Sighs, she saw my Tears,
And seem'd, at length, to share my Pain:
She listen'd to the tender Strain,
She heard my Sighs, she saw my Tears,
And seem'd, at length, to share my Pain:
She said she lov'd—and I, poor Youth!
(How soon, alas! can Hope persuade!)
Thought all she said no more than Truth,
And all my Love was well repaid.
(How soon, alas! can Hope persuade!)
Thought all she said no more than Truth,
And all my Love was well repaid.
176
In Joys unknown to Courts, or Kings,
With her I sate the live-long Day,
And said, and look'd such tender Things,
As none beside could look, or say!
With her I sate the live-long Day,
And said, and look'd such tender Things,
As none beside could look, or say!
How soon can Fortune shift the Scene,
And all our earthly Bliss destroy?—
Care hovers round, and Grief's fell Train
Still treads upon the Heels of Joy.
And all our earthly Bliss destroy?—
Care hovers round, and Grief's fell Train
Still treads upon the Heels of Joy.
My Age's Hope, my Youth's best Boast,
My Soul's chief Blessing, and my Pride,
In one sad Moment, all were lost;
And Daphne chang'd; and Thyrsis dy'd.
My Soul's chief Blessing, and my Pride,
In one sad Moment, all were lost;
And Daphne chang'd; and Thyrsis dy'd.
O, who, that heard her Vows ere-while,
Could dream these Vows were insincere?
Or, who could think, that saw her smile,
That Fraud could find Admittance there?
Could dream these Vows were insincere?
Or, who could think, that saw her smile,
That Fraud could find Admittance there?
Yet, she was false!—my Heart will break!
Her Frauds, her Perjuries were such—
Some other Tongue than mine must speak—
I have not Power to say how much!
Her Frauds, her Perjuries were such—
Some other Tongue than mine must speak—
I have not Power to say how much!
Ye Swains, hence warn'd, avoid the Bait;
O shun her Paths, the Traitress shun!
Her Voice is Death, her Smile is Fate,
Who hears, or sees her, is undone.
O shun her Paths, the Traitress shun!
Her Voice is Death, her Smile is Fate,
Who hears, or sees her, is undone.
And, when Death's Hand shall close my Eye,
(For soon, I know, the Day will come)
O chear my Spirit with a Sigh;
And grave these Lines upon my Tomb.
(For soon, I know, the Day will come)
O chear my Spirit with a Sigh;
And grave these Lines upon my Tomb.
177
THE EPITAPH.
[Consign'd to Dust, beneath this Stone]
Consign'd to Dust, beneath this Stone,
In Manhood's Prime, is Damon laid;
Joyless he liv'd, and dy'd unknown
In bleak Misfortune's barren Shade.
In Manhood's Prime, is Damon laid;
Joyless he liv'd, and dy'd unknown
In bleak Misfortune's barren Shade.
Lov'd by the Muse, but lov'd in vain—
'Twas Beauty drew his Ruin on;
He saw young Daphne on the Plain;
He lov'd, believ'd, and was undone:
'Twas Beauty drew his Ruin on;
He saw young Daphne on the Plain;
He lov'd, believ'd, and was undone:
His Heart then sunk beneath the Storm,
(Sad Meed of unexampled Truth)
And Sorrow, like an envious Worm,
Devour'd the Blossom of his Youth.
(Sad Meed of unexampled Truth)
And Sorrow, like an envious Worm,
Devour'd the Blossom of his Youth.
Beneath this Stone the Youth is laid—
O greet his Ashes with a Tear!
May Heaven with Blessings crown his Shade,
And grant that Peace he wanted here!
O greet his Ashes with a Tear!
May Heaven with Blessings crown his Shade,
And grant that Peace he wanted here!
178
STANZAS, To ------, with the FOREGOING ELEGIES.
Since you permit the lowly Muse
This Offering at your Feet to lay,
Her Flight with Ardour she renews,
Nor heeds the Perils of the Way:
This Offering at your Feet to lay,
Her Flight with Ardour she renews,
Nor heeds the Perils of the Way:
If, in the Poet's artless Lays,
Late warbled in his native Grove,
You find, perchance, one Line to praise,
Or should one Sentiment approve;
Late warbled in his native Grove,
You find, perchance, one Line to praise,
Or should one Sentiment approve;
Let Critics babble, o'er and o'er,
Of Figures false, and Accent wrong,
Blest in thy Smile, he asks no more—
There must be Merit in the Song.
Of Figures false, and Accent wrong,
Blest in thy Smile, he asks no more—
There must be Merit in the Song.
But, when of Epitaph, and Worm,
Of Death, and Tombs, the Bard doth rave,
You 'll ask, How 'scap'd he from the Storm?
What Power hath snatch'd him from the Grave?
Of Death, and Tombs, the Bard doth rave,
You 'll ask, How 'scap'd he from the Storm?
What Power hath snatch'd him from the Grave?
The Muse the Secret will impart;
(For what avails it to disguise?)
A Speck he saw in Daphne's Heart,
That dimm'd the Lustre of her Eyes.
(For what avails it to disguise?)
A Speck he saw in Daphne's Heart,
That dimm'd the Lustre of her Eyes.
179
But, had the Maid thy Power possess'd,
To bind and strengthen Beauty's Charm;
The Virtues glowing in thy Breast;
The Graces breathing in thy Form:
To bind and strengthen Beauty's Charm;
The Virtues glowing in thy Breast;
The Graces breathing in thy Form:
Of Manners gentle, and sincere,
Had Daphne been what—is,
And had Misfortune's Stroke severe
Then robb'd him of the promis'd Bliss,
Had Daphne been what—is,
And had Misfortune's Stroke severe
Then robb'd him of the promis'd Bliss,
Too big for Words, the deep Distress
Had quickly stopp'd the Poet's Tongue:
O'er-borne by Passion's wild Excess,
His Heart had sunk, unwept, unsung.
Had quickly stopp'd the Poet's Tongue:
O'er-borne by Passion's wild Excess,
His Heart had sunk, unwept, unsung.
The Youth, too sure, had dy'd unknown;
No Lover's Sigh his Shade had bless'd;
No rude Memorial on his Stone
Had mark'd his Ashes from the Rest;
No Lover's Sigh his Shade had bless'd;
No rude Memorial on his Stone
Had mark'd his Ashes from the Rest;
Unless, perchance, with one kind Tear,
The pitying Maid his Fate should mourn,
And bid some happier Servant's Care
To throw a Laurel on his Urn.
The pitying Maid his Fate should mourn,
And bid some happier Servant's Care
To throw a Laurel on his Urn.
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