The Works of Mr. Robert Gould In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould] |
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On the Marriage of Sir James Long
Baronet, with the Honourable Madam Henrietta Greville.
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 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
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On the Marriage of Sir James Long Baronet, with the Honourable Madam Henrietta Greville.
Tho' this address we have too long delay'd,
'Tis better late, than Negligently Paid:
Th'Approaches to the Noble and the Fair
Claim this Regard,—to be Perform'd with Care;
And here in Chief: Of all the Myriads joyn'd,
Where ever yet was Hymen half so kind?
The further from the Nuptial Day they move,
The more 'tis Peace and Truth, and Joy and Love!
Of all the Worth which was before but guess'd,
He finds his Beaute'ous Bride in full possess'd;
Love in her Eyes, and Eden in her Breast!
'Tis better late, than Negligently Paid:
Th'Approaches to the Noble and the Fair
Claim this Regard,—to be Perform'd with Care;
And here in Chief: Of all the Myriads joyn'd,
Where ever yet was Hymen half so kind?
The further from the Nuptial Day they move,
The more 'tis Peace and Truth, and Joy and Love!
Of all the Worth which was before but guess'd,
He finds his Beaute'ous Bride in full possess'd;
Love in her Eyes, and Eden in her Breast!
Others, 'tis true, that Marriage Songs indite,
Take the young Pair just on the Nuptial Night,
When Love Triumphs, and ev'ry Thought's Delight!
No other Scenes are set before their view
But smiling Hours, and Joys for ever new!
All Human Blessings must their Hope attend,
And Guardian Angels at a Call descend.
Ev'n Age it self—but there alas! w'are wrong;
They're to be ever Gay, and ever young!
In short, just as the Present Hour they find,
They're made to fansie all the rest behind,
Auspicious, Charming, Easie, Soft and Kind!
Thus, while the Nuptial State so high they dress,
All Worldly Joys, by vast Degrees, are less,
And Heav'n it self but Equal Happiness!
Take the young Pair just on the Nuptial Night,
When Love Triumphs, and ev'ry Thought's Delight!
No other Scenes are set before their view
But smiling Hours, and Joys for ever new!
All Human Blessings must their Hope attend,
And Guardian Angels at a Call descend.
Ev'n Age it self—but there alas! w'are wrong;
They're to be ever Gay, and ever young!
In short, just as the Present Hour they find,
They're made to fansie all the rest behind,
Auspicious, Charming, Easie, Soft and Kind!
Thus, while the Nuptial State so high they dress,
All Worldly Joys, by vast Degrees, are less,
And Heav'n it self but Equal Happiness!
Were we dispos'd such Raptures to allow,
We never had a Juster Theme than now:
The Youth so Faithful, and the Nymph so fair,
Might fix our utmost Admiration there;
There to the Clouds we might our Musick raise,
And to their widest Stretch extend the Wings of Praise!
A Thousand Tender Things we might rehearse,
And half Transfuse their Souls into our Verse.
Back to the secret Source we might retire,
E'er yet their Hearts were Conscious of Desire,
And there behold, in the Myste'rious Frame,
Their Infant Passions Quick'ning into Flame;
While all the Vertues and the Graces wait
To aid the Birth, and make their Joys compleat.
For now the youth his Utmost Pow'r applies!
And now the Fair darts her Victorious Eyes!
O Equal Conflict! O Auspicious Doom!
Where both are Vanquish'd, both must overcome!—
But from this Scene w'are call'd in hast away
To view the Triumphs of the Nuptial Day.
Compos'd the Bride, and Thoughtful does appear,
Strugg'ling at once with Love and Hope and Fear
But all in Rapture does her Lover stand,
Nor can his Soul th'unruly Joy Command!
With Anxious Looks he chides the long Delay,
And bids Hyperion hurry on the Day.
When will (He cries) the tedious Rites be past?
What need of Vows to Souls already fast?
When will the Night, the happy Night arrive?
That I may say—'tis now, indeed, I live!
When my Fair Bride, all Lavish of her Charms,
Trembles with Joy, and dies into my Arms!
We never had a Juster Theme than now:
201
Might fix our utmost Admiration there;
There to the Clouds we might our Musick raise,
And to their widest Stretch extend the Wings of Praise!
A Thousand Tender Things we might rehearse,
And half Transfuse their Souls into our Verse.
Back to the secret Source we might retire,
E'er yet their Hearts were Conscious of Desire,
And there behold, in the Myste'rious Frame,
Their Infant Passions Quick'ning into Flame;
While all the Vertues and the Graces wait
To aid the Birth, and make their Joys compleat.
For now the youth his Utmost Pow'r applies!
And now the Fair darts her Victorious Eyes!
O Equal Conflict! O Auspicious Doom!
Where both are Vanquish'd, both must overcome!—
But from this Scene w'are call'd in hast away
To view the Triumphs of the Nuptial Day.
Compos'd the Bride, and Thoughtful does appear,
Strugg'ling at once with Love and Hope and Fear
But all in Rapture does her Lover stand,
Nor can his Soul th'unruly Joy Command!
With Anxious Looks he chides the long Delay,
And bids Hyperion hurry on the Day.
When will (He cries) the tedious Rites be past?
What need of Vows to Souls already fast?
When will the Night, the happy Night arrive?
That I may say—'tis now, indeed, I live!
When my Fair Bride, all Lavish of her Charms,
Trembles with Joy, and dies into my Arms!
All this and more we might in Num'rous Strains
Tell to the Nymphs, and Echo thro' the Plains;
But then we shou'd (just like the most that Write)
Neglect Instruction to promote Delight.
Ev'n I my self, that such a Conduct blame,
Come yet so nigh to warm me at the Flame.
From such a sweet and Mut'ual Couple joyn'd,
The Contemplations will be soft and kind:
A secret Pleasure from the Theme will rise,
Heave in the Heart, and Lighten in the Eyes.
But these, and all the soft and Am'rous Things
That Mut'ual Love Inspires, and Hymen sings,
We leave to him, and to his Dearer Part;
Nor will the Joy but equal such Desart.
Tell to the Nymphs, and Echo thro' the Plains;
But then we shou'd (just like the most that Write)
Neglect Instruction to promote Delight.
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Come yet so nigh to warm me at the Flame.
From such a sweet and Mut'ual Couple joyn'd,
The Contemplations will be soft and kind:
A secret Pleasure from the Theme will rise,
Heave in the Heart, and Lighten in the Eyes.
But these, and all the soft and Am'rous Things
That Mut'ual Love Inspires, and Hymen sings,
We leave to him, and to his Dearer Part;
Nor will the Joy but equal such Desart.
Mean while the Muse a louder Note shall sound,
Her Brows no more with Rural Myrtle bound:
Ambitious, She her Usual Stile rejects,
To sing the Vertues which She more affects;
And from this Union what the World expects.
Her Brows no more with Rural Myrtle bound:
Ambitious, She her Usual Stile rejects,
To sing the Vertues which She more affects;
And from this Union what the World expects.
First, Sir, from you it justly does require
A Mind that does to Glorious Deeds aspire,
To Grace your Line and raise its Grandeur higher:
Not that it needs a fresh Recruit of Fame;
But that you shou'd assert from whence you came,
And joyn to it another Deathless Name.
We know the Age (tho' speaking from the Sky
An Angel taught) will take a different Ply:
Most of our Youth, deriding all that's Good,
Are grown the Scandal of Illustrious Blood:
Melting in loose Delights, their Time they wast,
For Epicurus first, and Hobs at last:
Their Lives to trace exceeds a Satyr's Spite,
So much they Sin above what Rage can Write.
Ah! shun the Rock on which these Monsters split,
Nor fly from Wisdom to be thought a Wit.
A Mind that does to Glorious Deeds aspire,
To Grace your Line and raise its Grandeur higher:
Not that it needs a fresh Recruit of Fame;
But that you shou'd assert from whence you came,
And joyn to it another Deathless Name.
We know the Age (tho' speaking from the Sky
An Angel taught) will take a different Ply:
Most of our Youth, deriding all that's Good,
Are grown the Scandal of Illustrious Blood:
Melting in loose Delights, their Time they wast,
For Epicurus first, and Hobs at last:
Their Lives to trace exceeds a Satyr's Spite,
So much they Sin above what Rage can Write.
Ah! shun the Rock on which these Monsters split,
Nor fly from Wisdom to be thought a Wit.
Justice Impartially to all Dispence,
Protect the Poor and humble Insolence:
And that you may the readiest Path pursue
That leads to Fame, and Work for Fame renew,
Preserve your Grand-sire's Image fresh in view.
A Thousand Ways we may his Worth express;
And hitherto your Conduct claims no less.
Who has deliver'd down to After Days
A Nobler Name, and Happier Theme for Praise?
His Converse Nothing Human cou'd Transcend;
The Dearest Husband, and the Fastest Friend.
With Tears I yet deplore th'Unhappy Day
When from his Country he was torn away,
And at a Time that most requir'd his Stay:
Nor was he by the Muse condol'd alone,
But waited to the Grave with Gene'ral Moan;
Peace his Delight, and Justice all his own.
Nor further need your Linage be express'd;
He in his Noble and Capacious Breast
Epitomiz'd the Worth of all the rest.
Protect the Poor and humble Insolence:
203
That leads to Fame, and Work for Fame renew,
Preserve your Grand-sire's Image fresh in view.
A Thousand Ways we may his Worth express;
And hitherto your Conduct claims no less.
Who has deliver'd down to After Days
A Nobler Name, and Happier Theme for Praise?
His Converse Nothing Human cou'd Transcend;
The Dearest Husband, and the Fastest Friend.
With Tears I yet deplore th'Unhappy Day
When from his Country he was torn away,
And at a Time that most requir'd his Stay:
Nor was he by the Muse condol'd alone,
But waited to the Grave with Gene'ral Moan;
Peace his Delight, and Justice all his own.
Nor further need your Linage be express'd;
He in his Noble and Capacious Breast
Epitomiz'd the Worth of all the rest.
But for your Consort, Vertu'ous as She's Fair,
'Tis only Laureat Angels that may dare
To think, or Offer at Instruction there;
Resolv'd to Future Ages to Transmit
A Glorious Name, for Prudence, Truth and Wit.
Her Beaute'ous Mother we exactly find
Drawn in her Form, and Breath'd into her Mind.
Long has that Family the Glory worn
Of Nymphs for Love, and Sons to Honours born;
Both in their Seve'ral Classes truely Great;
The Conqu'ring Eyes of These disposing Fate,
And Those for many Ages Props of State.
'Tis only Laureat Angels that may dare
To think, or Offer at Instruction there;
Resolv'd to Future Ages to Transmit
A Glorious Name, for Prudence, Truth and Wit.
Her Beaute'ous Mother we exactly find
Drawn in her Form, and Breath'd into her Mind.
Long has that Family the Glory worn
Of Nymphs for Love, and Sons to Honours born;
Both in their Seve'ral Classes truely Great;
The Conqu'ring Eyes of These disposing Fate,
And Those for many Ages Props of State.
Yet wou'd She please on
Portia's Life to look,
She ne'er wou'd read, perhaps, a Nobler Book:
If by that Rule She does her Conduct Square,
Sweet as She is, she'll meet Improvement there,
And soon become the Pattern of the Fair.
Portia! a Name that does at once Infuse
Joy to the Heart, and Fervour to the Muse:
Portia! a Name that, wheresoe'er it comes,
Breaths Richer Fragrance than Arabian Fumes;
Portia! a Name that with Astræa vies,
That Pride of Earth, and Honour of the Skies.
Before her Eyes all Conscious Guilt retires,
And Spotted Envy with a Frown Expires;
So Pois'nous Creatures in th'Hibernian Isle
Die by a Blessing, and assert the Soil.
She ne'er wou'd read, perhaps, a Nobler Book:
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Sweet as She is, she'll meet Improvement there,
And soon become the Pattern of the Fair.
Portia! a Name that does at once Infuse
Joy to the Heart, and Fervour to the Muse:
Portia! a Name that, wheresoe'er it comes,
Breaths Richer Fragrance than Arabian Fumes;
Portia! a Name that with Astræa vies,
That Pride of Earth, and Honour of the Skies.
Before her Eyes all Conscious Guilt retires,
And Spotted Envy with a Frown Expires;
So Pois'nous Creatures in th'Hibernian Isle
Die by a Blessing, and assert the Soil.
But, foolish Muse, can you no better see
Than, after such a View of Pietie,
To think this Happy Pair have ought to learn of Thee?
Her very Casual Converse more does Teach
Than thy most Study'd Flights cou'd ever Reach:
With begging Pardon then your Crime atone,
And by her Nobler Thoughts Improve your own:
Deriving Truth from so Sublime a Spring,
You'll higher soar, and more Divinely sing.
Mean while an Offe'ring to the Mutu'al Pair
You yet may make,—but it must be by Pray'r!
And fetch it from the Heart that Heav'n may hear.
Than, after such a View of Pietie,
To think this Happy Pair have ought to learn of Thee?
Her very Casual Converse more does Teach
Than thy most Study'd Flights cou'd ever Reach:
With begging Pardon then your Crime atone,
And by her Nobler Thoughts Improve your own:
Deriving Truth from so Sublime a Spring,
You'll higher soar, and more Divinely sing.
Mean while an Offe'ring to the Mutu'al Pair
You yet may make,—but it must be by Pray'r!
And fetch it from the Heart that Heav'n may hear.
Yes, Sir, so far you may the Bard permit,
To pay in Duty what he wants in Wit.
May all your Days to come serenely flow,
Like Rivers smooth above, and clear below.
In all the Blessings you but think you need,
May ev'ry Hope and ev'ry Wish succeed:
On to old Age Obsequi'ous Health attend,
With Peace of Mind,—the dearest Bosom-Friend;
Riches cou'd never still a stormy Breast;
It is that Opiate gives the Sweetest Rest.
And You, O You! the Glory of your Kind!
May you the same Auspicious Fortune find:
May all the Happy Issue be you bear,
Brave, like the Longs; and like the Grevills, Fair.
And since the Charms of Beauty will not stay,
But soon resign to Envious Time a Prey,
Let 'em decline like a bright Ev'ning Sun,
Clear to the last, and Glorious going down;
Just as the Blushing Rose it's Fate does meet,
Fair in Decay; and in their Ruins, Sweet.
To pay in Duty what he wants in Wit.
May all your Days to come serenely flow,
Like Rivers smooth above, and clear below.
In all the Blessings you but think you need,
May ev'ry Hope and ev'ry Wish succeed:
On to old Age Obsequi'ous Health attend,
With Peace of Mind,—the dearest Bosom-Friend;
205
It is that Opiate gives the Sweetest Rest.
And You, O You! the Glory of your Kind!
May you the same Auspicious Fortune find:
May all the Happy Issue be you bear,
Brave, like the Longs; and like the Grevills, Fair.
And since the Charms of Beauty will not stay,
But soon resign to Envious Time a Prey,
Let 'em decline like a bright Ev'ning Sun,
Clear to the last, and Glorious going down;
Just as the Blushing Rose it's Fate does meet,
Fair in Decay; and in their Ruins, Sweet.
| The Works of Mr. Robert Gould | |