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] |
 | 1. |
 |
|
|
|
|
| HYMENEALS:
|
|
|
|
|
| 2. |
 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
168
HYMENEALS:
OR, Marriage Verses.
To my Lord Eland, on his Marriage and Return, &c.
Pardon, my Lord, if a poor Poet, one
That is not, and deserves not to be known,
Presume not only (hardn'd in his Crime)
To greet your safe Return with Doggrel Rhime,
But wish your Future Years may This atone,
And bless no other Country but your Own;
Which, as it griev'd to want your Presence here,
Envy'd it's Shining in another Sphere.
That is not, and deserves not to be known,
Presume not only (hardn'd in his Crime)
To greet your safe Return with Doggrel Rhime,
But wish your Future Years may This atone,
And bless no other Country but your Own;
Which, as it griev'd to want your Presence here,
Envy'd it's Shining in another Sphere.
Many there are that travel Foreign Parts,
They say, to know the Manners, Men and Arts;
Yet (tho' they boast of leaving it behind)
Bring back a Dross too course to be refin'd
Affected Body, and Affected Mind:
For such Accomplishments we need not roam,
Fools may be made with least Expence at Home.
But you, my Lord, have nobler Conduct shown,
And brought from the French Court what will adorn our Own;
A Vertuous Wife!—a thing so rare to see,
Ev'n Holy-Writ mentions but two or three.
To her own Native Soil she bids adieu
For dear Religion, and her dearer You:
Nor has she lost, but in your Arms will find
Sublimer Blessings than she leaves behind.
For early y'ave the Chace of Fame begun,
Nor are, but by a Father's Name, out done:
He, when three Parts of four in Darkness lay,
Broke the thick Scales, and made us see the Day,
And drove our Fears and Jealousies away.
False Fears and Jealousies, those useful things
To rere Usurpers, and to ruin Kings.
His Noble Image we in YOU may find,
Lively in Person, livelier in your Mind;
For both have climb'd the Mountain's Top, there sit,
He, Judge of Wisdom, You the Judge of Wit.
They say, to know the Manners, Men and Arts;
Yet (tho' they boast of leaving it behind)
Bring back a Dross too course to be refin'd
Affected Body, and Affected Mind:
For such Accomplishments we need not roam,
Fools may be made with least Expence at Home.
169
And brought from the French Court what will adorn our Own;
A Vertuous Wife!—a thing so rare to see,
Ev'n Holy-Writ mentions but two or three.
To her own Native Soil she bids adieu
For dear Religion, and her dearer You:
Nor has she lost, but in your Arms will find
Sublimer Blessings than she leaves behind.
For early y'ave the Chace of Fame begun,
Nor are, but by a Father's Name, out done:
He, when three Parts of four in Darkness lay,
Broke the thick Scales, and made us see the Day,
And drove our Fears and Jealousies away.
False Fears and Jealousies, those useful things
To rere Usurpers, and to ruin Kings.
His Noble Image we in YOU may find,
Lively in Person, livelier in your Mind;
For both have climb'd the Mountain's Top, there sit,
He, Judge of Wisdom, You the Judge of Wit.
To Sir Edward Nevil Baronet, On his Marriage.
Now, Sir, when your Good Angel does rejoice,
And look down pleas'd on your Auspicious Choice;
When Love and Beauty, drest in all their Charms,
Give up their dearest Fav'orite to your Arms,
It may be thought Impertinent, in me,
To grate your Ears with worthless Poesie:
When Hymen's sacred Musick Charms the Sense,
All other Sounds are harsh and give Offence:
And yet, alas! tho' conscious of my Crime,
I still, go on—a Slave condemn'd to Rhime.
And look down pleas'd on your Auspicious Choice;
When Love and Beauty, drest in all their Charms,
Give up their dearest Fav'orite to your Arms,
It may be thought Impertinent, in me,
To grate your Ears with worthless Poesie:
When Hymen's sacred Musick Charms the Sense,
All other Sounds are harsh and give Offence:
And yet, alas! tho' conscious of my Crime,
I still, go on—a Slave condemn'd to Rhime.
170
'Tis grown almost a Miracle to see
Two Natures form'd by Nature to agree:
Wedlock is now all Interest and Design;
Th'Affections part just where they us'd to joyn.
Your better Fate this common Ill controuls,
By making first an Union in your Souls.
Your Lovely Bride, Chast, Courte'ous, Noble, Good,
And you, Sir, Eminent in Worth as Blood;
Just, Loyal, Brave—all that can claim esteem,
And make the Poets up a Deathless Theme.
Two Natures form'd by Nature to agree:
Wedlock is now all Interest and Design;
Th'Affections part just where they us'd to joyn.
Your better Fate this common Ill controuls,
By making first an Union in your Souls.
Your Lovely Bride, Chast, Courte'ous, Noble, Good,
And you, Sir, Eminent in Worth as Blood;
Just, Loyal, Brave—all that can claim esteem,
And make the Poets up a Deathless Theme.
Hereafter (when we better may presume)
We'll jointly give your Vertues ampler room;
Dilate whole Pages on your Wit and Truth,
Her Matchless Graces and her Fau'tless Youth:
But at this Time, while we the Muse employ,
Our Duty but detains you from your Joy.
We'll jointly give your Vertues ampler room;
Dilate whole Pages on your Wit and Truth,
Her Matchless Graces and her Fau'tless Youth:
But at this Time, while we the Muse employ,
Our Duty but detains you from your Joy.
Hail happy Pair! your Race of Love's begun,
And may you still be eager to love on.
May Pleasure flow, and (because all must tast
What Sorrow is) may Sorrow ebb as fast;
That ev'ry Day, progressively, may be
A further Step into Prosperitie.
May long Life bless you, and a Health as long,
And may you, too, be Fruitful while y'are young;
That from your Loins a Loyal Race may spring,
T'adorn their Country and to serve their King.
And may you still be eager to love on.
May Pleasure flow, and (because all must tast
What Sorrow is) may Sorrow ebb as fast;
That ev'ry Day, progressively, may be
A further Step into Prosperitie.
May long Life bless you, and a Health as long,
And may you, too, be Fruitful while y'are young;
That from your Loins a Loyal Race may spring,
T'adorn their Country and to serve their King.
To an unknown Relation; Hearing he was happily Married.
'Tis, sure, the fairest Branch of Nature's LawTo love all Men, ev'n those we never saw:
171
Rejoice at their good Fate, and mourn their Ill.
Ev'n Gene'ral Charity thus much shou'd do;
But I've a nearer Tye to grieve, or joy for YOU:
Thy Sister, still Indulgent to my Ease,
And Good, as she were only made to please,
Suspends my Care, and Silences my Grief;
Which, but for her, had never hop'd Relief.
Ingrateful then, Ill-natur'd shou'd I be,
Did I not wish a like content to Thee,
Did I not wish the Consort you have chose
May think her chiefest Pleasure, thy Repose.
For Vertu'ous we will write her, tho' unknown;
Ev'n in thy Choice her Wit and Worth are shown:
What cou'd Inspire thee with a Lover's Care,
Must needs be something very Chast and Fair.
O may you long be happy in her Arms,
You never want for Love, nor she for Charms;
But smoothly glide along the Stream of Life,
A Tender Husband, and Obedient Wife.
And O may never Jealousy destroy
Your Peace of Mind, and clog your rising Joy.
May ev'n the World to thy own Wish agree,
The World, which has too often frown'd on Me.
Of Adorissa's Second Marriage with Mr. Grevil.
A sable Mantle Heav'n sometimes does place
Between our Eyes and the Sun's lovely Face;
But long that Gloominess does never stay,
Or if it shou'd, it cannot conquer Day.
Between our Eyes and the Sun's lovely Face;
But long that Gloominess does never stay,
Or if it shou'd, it cannot conquer Day.
172
Thus Sorrow, lately, did attempt to shroud
Fair Adorissa's Glories in a Cloud:
Her Mind, 'tis true, the Tyrant did invade,
But her all-bright'ning Eyes cou'd fear no Shade.
Affliction, while 'twou'd Enviously disarm
Her Looks of Darts, is made it self a Charm.
Beauty, distrest, does open to our View
A Lustre that before we never knew;
First our Concern, does then our Wonder move,
And the next Step's Inevitable Love!
In vain Eclips'd, her Eyes (us'd to subdue)
No sooner look abroad but wound anew.
Fair Adorissa's Glories in a Cloud:
Her Mind, 'tis true, the Tyrant did invade,
But her all-bright'ning Eyes cou'd fear no Shade.
Affliction, while 'twou'd Enviously disarm
Her Looks of Darts, is made it self a Charm.
Beauty, distrest, does open to our View
A Lustre that before we never knew;
First our Concern, does then our Wonder move,
And the next Step's Inevitable Love!
In vain Eclips'd, her Eyes (us'd to subdue)
No sooner look abroad but wound anew.
Around her soon her hopeless Lovers lay,
At once an easie, and a num'rous Prey.
Ah! why ye wretched Rivals? why d'ye run
With such preposte'rous Hast to be undone?
Alas! the happy Man can be but One.
See all the while how easie she appears,
How unconcern'd she their Addresses hears;
Does not, severely, all Approach forbid,
Yet guards her Fame no less than if she did.
While other Ladies, with affected Arts,
Like Fishers, angle for their Lover's Hearts,
Rob their own selves both of Esteem and Ease,
By an Inordinate Desire to please.
She from the Top of Chastity looks down
On all alike, without a Smile or Frown:
Gives no one Hope, yet gives no one Despair,
As if all Passion were beneath her Care.
At once an easie, and a num'rous Prey.
Ah! why ye wretched Rivals? why d'ye run
With such preposte'rous Hast to be undone?
Alas! the happy Man can be but One.
See all the while how easie she appears,
How unconcern'd she their Addresses hears;
Does not, severely, all Approach forbid,
Yet guards her Fame no less than if she did.
While other Ladies, with affected Arts,
Like Fishers, angle for their Lover's Hearts,
Rob their own selves both of Esteem and Ease,
By an Inordinate Desire to please.
She from the Top of Chastity looks down
On all alike, without a Smile or Frown:
Gives no one Hope, yet gives no one Despair,
As if all Passion were beneath her Care.
Mean while her Lovers thus expostulate
(Unable to conceal their Pain) with Fate.
Ah! why? why did you to her Eyes ensure
Such Pow'r to charm, when she disdains to Cure?
Once, Mighty Love, she to thy Yoke did bow,
Where are thy Darts, or her Obedience now?
By what strange Magick does she Passion move,
Yet be her self Insensible of Love?
Or because Heav'n snatch'd Damon from her Arms,
Must we all fall a Victim to her Charms?
Or was the Noble Youth depriv'd of Breath.
For us to bear him Company in Death?
Like as of old some dying General,
He has his Thousands to attend his Fall.
O cancel! cancel this severe Decree!
Or have you learnt to be as deaf as she?
(Unable to conceal their Pain) with Fate.
Ah! why? why did you to her Eyes ensure
Such Pow'r to charm, when she disdains to Cure?
173
Where are thy Darts, or her Obedience now?
By what strange Magick does she Passion move,
Yet be her self Insensible of Love?
Or because Heav'n snatch'd Damon from her Arms,
Must we all fall a Victim to her Charms?
Or was the Noble Youth depriv'd of Breath.
For us to bear him Company in Death?
Like as of old some dying General,
He has his Thousands to attend his Fall.
O cancel! cancel this severe Decree!
Or have you learnt to be as deaf as she?
This just Complaint at last did reach the Ears
Of Mighty Love, and not in vain he hears:
For now, amidst her Train a Youth she spy'd,
Who without timely Pity must have died:
More Prudent, Brave, and Lovely than the rest,
And sweet as dying Swans his Grief exprest;
Sigh'd out his Cares in such a melting Strain,
That none but he believ'd he lov'd in vain.
Mean while her Eyes, now sick'ning with Desire,
(For Excellence will Excellence admire)
Proclaim'd she cou'd not see the Youth expire:
Tun'd both alike, her Heart with his did move;
And that which was Compassion, now is Love.
Of Mighty Love, and not in vain he hears:
For now, amidst her Train a Youth she spy'd,
Who without timely Pity must have died:
More Prudent, Brave, and Lovely than the rest,
And sweet as dying Swans his Grief exprest;
Sigh'd out his Cares in such a melting Strain,
That none but he believ'd he lov'd in vain.
Mean while her Eyes, now sick'ning with Desire,
(For Excellence will Excellence admire)
Proclaim'd she cou'd not see the Youth expire:
Tun'd both alike, her Heart with his did move;
And that which was Compassion, now is Love.
Blest be the Look in which she did impart
The Pointed Charm that reach't his Noble Heart;
A Heart that ev'n thus early has its fill
Of all that Wit and Honour can instill.
And blest be she, of Cruelty affraid,
That does repair the Breach her Eyes had made.
Who wou'd not Venture the last Gasp of Breath
To be when just expiring, so redeem'd from Death!
The Pointed Charm that reach't his Noble Heart;
A Heart that ev'n thus early has its fill
Of all that Wit and Honour can instill.
And blest be she, of Cruelty affraid,
That does repair the Breach her Eyes had made.
Who wou'd not Venture the last Gasp of Breath
To be when just expiring, so redeem'd from Death!
174
Whether she sing, Discourse, or Look, or Move,
Or Smile, or Frown—her ev'ry Action's Love!
She can be nothing that we don't admire!
Yet ev'ry Minute lifts our Wonder highe'r;
Smiles as it comes, and opens to our View
Something that is Resistless, something New.
And as the Sun, in its own Essence bright,
Sends forth his Beams, the Progeny of Light,
Yet never does decrease of Lustre find,
Supply'd from the Eternal Sourse behind;
So flow the Graces from her fairer Face,
And, undiminish't, fresh ones fill the Place.
If we are rapt but gazing on her Charms,
What must he be that has her in his Arms.
Or Smile, or Frown—her ev'ry Action's Love!
She can be nothing that we don't admire!
Yet ev'ry Minute lifts our Wonder highe'r;
Smiles as it comes, and opens to our View
Something that is Resistless, something New.
And as the Sun, in its own Essence bright,
Sends forth his Beams, the Progeny of Light,
Yet never does decrease of Lustre find,
Supply'd from the Eternal Sourse behind;
So flow the Graces from her fairer Face,
And, undiminish't, fresh ones fill the Place.
If we are rapt but gazing on her Charms,
What must he be that has her in his Arms.
Long may he live, the Blessing all his own,
And sickness, Care, and Jealousy unknown.
May his Love last, her Beauties never Fade,
But be at Sarah's Age new Conquests made;
Yet not to kindle an unhallow'd Flame,
But to attest her Charms are still the same.
And as she brought her former Joy and Heir,
Let not the Blessing long be wanting here;
Inspire some Poet that his Birth be sung,
And worthy of the Blood from whence he sprung.
And sickness, Care, and Jealousy unknown.
May his Love last, her Beauties never Fade,
But be at Sarah's Age new Conquests made;
Yet not to kindle an unhallow'd Flame,
But to attest her Charms are still the same.
And as she brought her former Joy and Heir,
Let not the Blessing long be wanting here;
Inspire some Poet that his Birth be sung,
And worthy of the Blood from whence he sprung.
Hail! Hail ye Lovely, Loving, Noble Pair!
And O! accept the Muses humble Prayer:
Tho' Kneeling Kings may oft meet no Regard,
The Poor and Pious certainly are heard.
'Tis done! for see, Tranquility appears,
Nor is it come for Moments, but for Years!
And O! accept the Muses humble Prayer:
Tho' Kneeling Kings may oft meet no Regard,
The Poor and Pious certainly are heard.
'Tis done! for see, Tranquility appears,
Nor is it come for Moments, but for Years!
175
To Dr. Harding and his Lady; Some time after their Marriage.
To any other Marry'd Pair but You,
How vain, and how preposterous wou'd it shew,
In Hymen's Praise my Time and theirs to wast,
And talk of Love when the First Moon was past?
How vain, and how preposterous wou'd it shew,
In Hymen's Praise my Time and theirs to wast,
And talk of Love when the First Moon was past?
But tho' so many Myriads wretched are,
The General Rule will some Exceptions bear:
Once in an Age we may in Wedlock see
All that this Life can call Felicitie.
The General Rule will some Exceptions bear:
Once in an Age we may in Wedlock see
All that this Life can call Felicitie.
So when a Pestilential blast does fill
The Air, and blow an Epidemick Ill;
Some few the happy healing Breezes share,
As if the God of Physick cull'd the Air,
And wheresoe'er they mov'd wou'd breathe it there.
The Air, and blow an Epidemick Ill;
Some few the happy healing Breezes share,
As if the God of Physick cull'd the Air,
And wheresoe'er they mov'd wou'd breathe it there.
There's not a Joy the Marriage Life procures,
But signs and seals it self for ever Yours.
Where can we Expect with Happiness to meet,
If not with Peace and Plenty, Truth and Wit?
As in Election, so your Nuptials prove
There is as well a Chosen Race in Love.
But signs and seals it self for ever Yours.
Where can we Expect with Happiness to meet,
If not with Peace and Plenty, Truth and Wit?
As in Election, so your Nuptials prove
There is as well a Chosen Race in Love.
How strangely true our Wishes oft will fly,
Ev'n when they take their Aim above the Sky?
I saw, my Friend, the Fair you now possess,
Blooming in Sweets, and breathing Tenderness:
A wond'rous Goodness in her Eyes were fixt,
Yet with each Glance there seem'd some Terrour mixt:
So Egypt's Cloudless Sun Approach Confounds,
So Light'ning when 'tis brightest deepest Wounds.
By her discerning Conduct we might find
He much must Merit that cou'd make her Kind.
Concern'd for whom, 'twas this Reflection brought
All her Desponding Lovers to my Thought.
You, taller than the rest, elate were shown,
Like Him whose Stature rais'd him to a Throne.
I saw—and wish't you might her Heart obtain,
And there with uncontroll'd Dominion Reign;
A Sceptre which 'tis nobler far to sway,
Than Kingdoms that but Grudgingly obey.
Ev'n when they take their Aim above the Sky?
I saw, my Friend, the Fair you now possess,
Blooming in Sweets, and breathing Tenderness:
A wond'rous Goodness in her Eyes were fixt,
Yet with each Glance there seem'd some Terrour mixt:
176
So Light'ning when 'tis brightest deepest Wounds.
By her discerning Conduct we might find
He much must Merit that cou'd make her Kind.
Concern'd for whom, 'twas this Reflection brought
All her Desponding Lovers to my Thought.
You, taller than the rest, elate were shown,
Like Him whose Stature rais'd him to a Throne.
I saw—and wish't you might her Heart obtain,
And there with uncontroll'd Dominion Reign;
A Sceptre which 'tis nobler far to sway,
Than Kingdoms that but Grudgingly obey.
From the Fair Conqu'rour then I turn'd my view,
Contemplating her Happiness in You
Where can she find, cry'd I, a Worthier Youth,
So rich in Merit, and so fixt to Truth?
His Manly Aspect does command an Awe:
Like Eastern Kings that make their Nod a Law:
Yet with the strong so sweet a Mixture's joyn'd,
Like Mars, tho' daring; he's like Venus, kind.
Then in his Breast he all the Goodness shares
That Credits his Own Sex, and Conquers theirs.
What Numbers will be left to Death a Prize,
If he shou'd fall a Victim to her Eyes?
The Triumphs of his Art (our Future boast)
Not suffer'd to exist, will all be lost.
'Twill be a double Murder of the Dame
At once to rob Him both of Life and Fame.
Encline her, Heav'n, to hear her Lover's moan,
The Fair are fairer yet when Mercy's shown;
Ah! let her give him Peace, or lose her Own.
I spoke—When Lo! the Gracious Pow'rs approv'd;
And the next Glance the Loving was belov'd.
Contemplating her Happiness in You
Where can she find, cry'd I, a Worthier Youth,
So rich in Merit, and so fixt to Truth?
His Manly Aspect does command an Awe:
Like Eastern Kings that make their Nod a Law:
Yet with the strong so sweet a Mixture's joyn'd,
Like Mars, tho' daring; he's like Venus, kind.
Then in his Breast he all the Goodness shares
That Credits his Own Sex, and Conquers theirs.
What Numbers will be left to Death a Prize,
If he shou'd fall a Victim to her Eyes?
The Triumphs of his Art (our Future boast)
Not suffer'd to exist, will all be lost.
'Twill be a double Murder of the Dame
At once to rob Him both of Life and Fame.
Encline her, Heav'n, to hear her Lover's moan,
The Fair are fairer yet when Mercy's shown;
Ah! let her give him Peace, or lose her Own.
I spoke—When Lo! the Gracious Pow'rs approv'd;
And the next Glance the Loving was belov'd.
177
O Happy State! O Smooth Elezian Life!
O ever-sacred Names of Man and Wife!
When Mutually each others Care we prove,
And Wedlock walks in the smooth Paths of Love:
When nothing harsh, or hideous e'er appears,
To wound our Eyes and persecute our Ears:
When from our Looks a glowing Ardour darts,
With speaking Smiles, that Mind to Mind imparts;
The dear and silent Intercourse of Hearts!
When tun'd alike one touch both Wills does move;
O Transport scarce to be excell'd above.
O ever-sacred Names of Man and Wife!
When Mutually each others Care we prove,
And Wedlock walks in the smooth Paths of Love:
When nothing harsh, or hideous e'er appears,
To wound our Eyes and persecute our Ears:
When from our Looks a glowing Ardour darts,
With speaking Smiles, that Mind to Mind imparts;
The dear and silent Intercourse of Hearts!
When tun'd alike one touch both Wills does move;
O Transport scarce to be excell'd above.
How will this Choice thy Joyful Sire approve!
Ev'n He, no less Successful in his Love.
It will not be a mean or trivial Prayer,
That you may prove alike Auspicious Pair.
There Hymen long has laid a peaceful Head,
With the rich Banquets of Contentment fed,
And with a Gen'rous Issue blest their Bed.
Happy! that can so Good a Father boast!
And late some Lofty Genius mourn him lost.
How to my Converse will he Condescend?
With what Affection own himself my Friend?
How much he knows! how little he'll profess!
His Favours endless, and his Skill no less.
The Double Blessing be on him bestown
To give us Health, and long enjoy his own.
Ev'n He, no less Successful in his Love.
It will not be a mean or trivial Prayer,
That you may prove alike Auspicious Pair.
There Hymen long has laid a peaceful Head,
With the rich Banquets of Contentment fed,
And with a Gen'rous Issue blest their Bed.
Happy! that can so Good a Father boast!
And late some Lofty Genius mourn him lost.
How to my Converse will he Condescend?
With what Affection own himself my Friend?
How much he knows! how little he'll profess!
His Favours endless, and his Skill no less.
The Double Blessing be on him bestown
To give us Health, and long enjoy his own.
And Thou, O Thou (not less in thy Desert)
The Heir both of his Prudence and his Art;
The same Success as His attend thee still,
And Æsculapius dictate to thy Quill,
To save as fast as City-Emp'ricks kill.
The Heir both of his Prudence and his Art;
The same Success as His attend thee still,
And Æsculapius dictate to thy Quill,
To save as fast as City-Emp'ricks kill.
178
How canst thou fail to ease us of our Harms,
Blest with such Sweets in thy desiring Arms,
And influenc'd with the Magick of her Charms!
Auspicious Health attends Her Side by Side,
And thus, Methinks, Instructs Thee to Prescribe.
Blest with such Sweets in thy desiring Arms,
And influenc'd with the Magick of her Charms!
Auspicious Health attends Her Side by Side,
And thus, Methinks, Instructs Thee to Prescribe.
When a Lethargick Patient dang'rous lies,
Flash on him full the Brightness of her Eyes:
The Genuine Light; the All-Reviving Ray,
Will drive like Mists the dozing Steams away,
Unchain the Optick Pow'rs, and bring 'em back to Day.
Where a Malignance has been Pow'rful long,
Apply the Artful Musick of her Tongue;
Let her but speak, the Evil will retire,
As SAUL's Distemper fled from DAVID's Lyre.
If 'tis a stubborn, tough, Hydropick Ill,
The Sweetness of her Temper next instill;
Quick thro' the Veins it will Triumphant ride,
Change the whole Mass and Sanguify the Tyde.
But if you fear these Methods yet may fail,
And wou'd have something certain to prevail,
A never-failing Cordial—from her Breath
Extract Immortal Balm—and laugh at Death!
Flash on him full the Brightness of her Eyes:
The Genuine Light; the All-Reviving Ray,
Will drive like Mists the dozing Steams away,
Unchain the Optick Pow'rs, and bring 'em back to Day.
Where a Malignance has been Pow'rful long,
Apply the Artful Musick of her Tongue;
Let her but speak, the Evil will retire,
As SAUL's Distemper fled from DAVID's Lyre.
If 'tis a stubborn, tough, Hydropick Ill,
The Sweetness of her Temper next instill;
Quick thro' the Veins it will Triumphant ride,
Change the whole Mass and Sanguify the Tyde.
But if you fear these Methods yet may fail,
And wou'd have something certain to prevail,
A never-failing Cordial—from her Breath
Extract Immortal Balm—and laugh at Death!
In vain these pleasing Notions I pursue;
This rich Elixir's all reserv'd for You:
To us it does no other Prospect give,
But that w'are doom'd to Die, and you to Live.
While the soft Fair can such Reliefs impart,
You need not have the least recourse to Art:
But lost in Joys, and brightn'd with her Charms,
Continue always Youthful in her Arms.
This rich Elixir's all reserv'd for You:
To us it does no other Prospect give,
But that w'are doom'd to Die, and you to Live.
While the soft Fair can such Reliefs impart,
You need not have the least recourse to Art:
But lost in Joys, and brightn'd with her Charms,
Continue always Youthful in her Arms.
It shall be so—I here the Muse engage
From both your Minds to raze the Thoughts of Age.
Love, Pleasure, Mirth, and all that's Sweet and Gay,
Shall crown the Night, and hurry on the Day.
A Series of Propitious Years, in Bliss
Shall come and go, all smooth and Calm like this;
Yet leave you still behind in all your Prime,
Fixt in your Bloom, and unimpair'd by Time.
From both your Minds to raze the Thoughts of Age.
179
Shall crown the Night, and hurry on the Day.
A Series of Propitious Years, in Bliss
Shall come and go, all smooth and Calm like this;
Yet leave you still behind in all your Prime,
Fixt in your Bloom, and unimpair'd by Time.
Lo! with the Thought ev'n I my Cares forego,
When thou art blest I must be happy too.
I to thy Soul by secret Bands am ty'd,
Thy Smiles my Peace, and thy Esteem my Pride.
Friendship till now (the Life they lead above)
Has been believ'd a Nobler Flame than Love—
'Tis past—and justly you the Fair prefer;
I Yield—but I can yield to none but HER:
SHE is the only Instance that does prove
Friendship is not so dear a Name as Love.
When thou art blest I must be happy too.
I to thy Soul by secret Bands am ty'd,
Thy Smiles my Peace, and thy Esteem my Pride.
Friendship till now (the Life they lead above)
Has been believ'd a Nobler Flame than Love—
'Tis past—and justly you the Fair prefer;
I Yield—but I can yield to none but HER:
SHE is the only Instance that does prove
Friendship is not so dear a Name as Love.
On my Lord of Dorset's Marriage with the Lady Mary Compton.
If there's a Lot exempt from Human Strife,
It must be His that has a Vertu'ous Wife.
But if with Vertue Wit and Beauty joyn,
What State can we Imagine more Divine!
To Heav'n for Parallels we durst not go,
But we are Sure it is a Heav'n below.
Truth, and all else that Mortals hold so dear,
Wealth, Honour, Peace and Safety Center there.
With such a Spouse Affection ne'er decays;
Nor have her Nights more Rapture than her Days:
Her Love does these, her Duty those employ,
And she admits no Vacancy from Joy.
As at the early Dawn the Guilty Spright
Drives back, and plunges in retiring Night;
So flies Contention from her fairer Eyes;
The Fiend must vanish when those Lights arise:
If Riches come, she lessens not her Flame;
Or if Adversity, she's still the same:
Her happy Husband down in Safety lies,
Sleeps in Content, and to Content does rise.
O DORSET, she is Yours! and only You
Deserve a Joy so Great, a Faith so True.
What others Ages seek you early find,
In One th'abridg'd Endowments of the Kind.
The Vertues we describe sh' has practis'd long,
No Female e'er Perfection reach'd so young.
Her Youth's adorn'd with Nature's freshest Charms,
Her Youth she brings unblemish'd to your Arms.
Uncharm'd with the Regards of Birth and State,
She takes a surer Method to be Great:
To Vertue kind, to Vice a mortal Foe;
No Scorn of Pride did ever higher go,
Or Condescention ever stoop so low.
Meek as the Dove, whom Nature gave no Gall,
And free from Guile as Eve before the Fall:
Had she been there the Tempter cou'd not boast,
Nor had our State of Innocence been lost.
It must be His that has a Vertu'ous Wife.
But if with Vertue Wit and Beauty joyn,
What State can we Imagine more Divine!
To Heav'n for Parallels we durst not go,
But we are Sure it is a Heav'n below.
Truth, and all else that Mortals hold so dear,
Wealth, Honour, Peace and Safety Center there.
With such a Spouse Affection ne'er decays;
Nor have her Nights more Rapture than her Days:
Her Love does these, her Duty those employ,
And she admits no Vacancy from Joy.
180
Drives back, and plunges in retiring Night;
So flies Contention from her fairer Eyes;
The Fiend must vanish when those Lights arise:
If Riches come, she lessens not her Flame;
Or if Adversity, she's still the same:
Her happy Husband down in Safety lies,
Sleeps in Content, and to Content does rise.
O DORSET, she is Yours! and only You
Deserve a Joy so Great, a Faith so True.
What others Ages seek you early find,
In One th'abridg'd Endowments of the Kind.
The Vertues we describe sh' has practis'd long,
No Female e'er Perfection reach'd so young.
Her Youth's adorn'd with Nature's freshest Charms,
Her Youth she brings unblemish'd to your Arms.
Uncharm'd with the Regards of Birth and State,
She takes a surer Method to be Great:
To Vertue kind, to Vice a mortal Foe;
No Scorn of Pride did ever higher go,
Or Condescention ever stoop so low.
Meek as the Dove, whom Nature gave no Gall,
And free from Guile as Eve before the Fall:
Had she been there the Tempter cou'd not boast,
Nor had our State of Innocence been lost.
But equal Joy Fate does on both confer:
She gains in YOU no less than You by HER;
Her utmost Wish!—a Form that does impart
All that can please her Eye, or charm her Heart!
With like Content you on her Beauties look,
With equal Pleasure, equal Wonder strook;
And when Night's welcome Mantle veils her Charms,
With equal Fervor melt within her Arms.
O only, only for each other made!
O Mutual Couple! Transport undecay'd!
Your Vertue does not to her Worth submit,
Nor is her Face more wond'rous than your Wit:
So bright her Eyes! w'are lost in Rapture there,
And while you speak with equal Rapture hear!
To this a Judgment so Mature is joyn'd,
Your Praise, or Blame, determines all Mankind.
To judge of Poesie some make Pretence,
Damn what does please, and Praise what gives Offence;
But all your Approbation-Stamps, is Sense:
Currant it goes, with an unquestion'd Pride,
The Metal prov'd, the Image Dignify'd:
No Author e'er was so presuming yet,
As to appeal from your unerring Wit.
She gains in YOU no less than You by HER;
Her utmost Wish!—a Form that does impart
All that can please her Eye, or charm her Heart!
With like Content you on her Beauties look,
With equal Pleasure, equal Wonder strook;
And when Night's welcome Mantle veils her Charms,
With equal Fervor melt within her Arms.
O only, only for each other made!
O Mutual Couple! Transport undecay'd!
181
Nor is her Face more wond'rous than your Wit:
So bright her Eyes! w'are lost in Rapture there,
And while you speak with equal Rapture hear!
To this a Judgment so Mature is joyn'd,
Your Praise, or Blame, determines all Mankind.
To judge of Poesie some make Pretence,
Damn what does please, and Praise what gives Offence;
But all your Approbation-Stamps, is Sense:
Currant it goes, with an unquestion'd Pride,
The Metal prov'd, the Image Dignify'd:
No Author e'er was so presuming yet,
As to appeal from your unerring Wit.
But tho' that Blessing we so much admire,
Your Charity does raise our Wonder higher.
Since He that taught that Duty hither came,
No Mortal Breast has known so bright a Flame.
Never to One did yet a Portion fall
That came so near the Great Original,
The vast Compassion that Reliev'd us all.
So close this Vertue to your Soul does cleave,
Not starving Debtors with more Joy receive,
Than you with an ungrudging Bounty give.
Nor did you, giving, ever yet deride
The poor Receiver, such a Dole's but Pride;
We see but Little to the Alms you hide:
With secret Aid whole Families you raise,
And scarcely fly Detraction more than Praise.
The Muses Sons with like Regard you Grace,
A Craving, Insolent, and Teazing Race:
Like common Beggars, they your Doors besiege,
Ingrateful, most; so dang'rous to oblige:
They hang on Bounty just like Ticks for Blood,
And scandalize the Hand that throws 'em Food.
This Pest of Men you shou'd to starve permit,
For Impudence is ill excus'd by Wit.
Your Charity does raise our Wonder higher.
Since He that taught that Duty hither came,
No Mortal Breast has known so bright a Flame.
Never to One did yet a Portion fall
That came so near the Great Original,
The vast Compassion that Reliev'd us all.
So close this Vertue to your Soul does cleave,
Not starving Debtors with more Joy receive,
Than you with an ungrudging Bounty give.
Nor did you, giving, ever yet deride
The poor Receiver, such a Dole's but Pride;
We see but Little to the Alms you hide:
With secret Aid whole Families you raise,
And scarcely fly Detraction more than Praise.
The Muses Sons with like Regard you Grace,
A Craving, Insolent, and Teazing Race:
Like common Beggars, they your Doors besiege,
Ingrateful, most; so dang'rous to oblige:
They hang on Bounty just like Ticks for Blood,
And scandalize the Hand that throws 'em Food.
182
For Impudence is ill excus'd by Wit.
Unweary'd Goodness! Kindness unconfin'd!
O Youth to Manhood wonderfully joyn'd!
Who e'er than Buckhurst was so fam'd so young?
Or who but Dorset ever liv'd so long
Without one Slander from an Envious Tongue?
Ev'n different Parties in your Praises meet,
And so employ'd, their Mutual Feuds forget:
Ah! wou'd they joyn, our Liberties were sav'd,
But, blind with Spite, they see not those Enslav'd:
Pride, Bigottry, and Pow'r unbounded Rules,—
But such a Government is fit for Fools.
O Youth to Manhood wonderfully joyn'd!
Who e'er than Buckhurst was so fam'd so young?
Or who but Dorset ever liv'd so long
Without one Slander from an Envious Tongue?
Ev'n different Parties in your Praises meet,
And so employ'd, their Mutual Feuds forget:
Ah! wou'd they joyn, our Liberties were sav'd,
But, blind with Spite, they see not those Enslav'd:
Pride, Bigottry, and Pow'r unbounded Rules,—
But such a Government is fit for Fools.
Your Courage, Friendship, Truth, we need not name,
Nor Loyalty, so amply known to Fame,
So oft in Dangers try'd, and still the same.
'Tis not for nothing Providence does bless
All that you undertake with such Success.
Ev'n that rough Sea where most Adventu'rers fail,
That Bay of Biscay, that tears ev'ry Sail,
Has favour'd You with an Auspicious Gale:
Safe in the Port you ride (the Peace design'd)
And looking back, Your careless Followers find
Driving on Rocks, and fighting with the Wind.
There, unconcern'd You sit, and daily see
The Wrecks of Marriage, from the Danger free:
Clasp'd in the Magick Circle of her Arms,
Melting in Joys, and guarded with her Charms,
Y'ave nothing now to fear of Human Harms.
Nor Loyalty, so amply known to Fame,
So oft in Dangers try'd, and still the same.
'Tis not for nothing Providence does bless
All that you undertake with such Success.
Ev'n that rough Sea where most Adventu'rers fail,
That Bay of Biscay, that tears ev'ry Sail,
Has favour'd You with an Auspicious Gale:
Safe in the Port you ride (the Peace design'd)
And looking back, Your careless Followers find
Driving on Rocks, and fighting with the Wind.
There, unconcern'd You sit, and daily see
The Wrecks of Marriage, from the Danger free:
Clasp'd in the Magick Circle of her Arms,
Melting in Joys, and guarded with her Charms,
Y'ave nothing now to fear of Human Harms.
Slow let the Time go on, ye Gracious Pow'rs,
Their happy Moments lengthen into Hours,
Their Hours to Days, their Days to Years convert;
Such Lovers seldom meet, and shou'd not quickly part.
Be such a Buckhurst the next Ages Bliss,
As HE that was the Ornament of this.
Like Comfort in him let his Parents have,
As Dorset to his happy Parents gave:
A Liberal Patron may he like Him be,
And by his Worth assert his Family.
Hark how the General Shout approves my Prayer!
The Omen's good; the Gracious Pow'r does hear,
And as the FATHER, such shall be his HEIR.
Their happy Moments lengthen into Hours,
Their Hours to Days, their Days to Years convert;
Such Lovers seldom meet, and shou'd not quickly part.
183
As HE that was the Ornament of this.
Like Comfort in him let his Parents have,
As Dorset to his happy Parents gave:
A Liberal Patron may he like Him be,
And by his Worth assert his Family.
Hark how the General Shout approves my Prayer!
The Omen's good; the Gracious Pow'r does hear,
And as the FATHER, such shall be his HEIR.
On my Lord of Abingdon's Marriage with the Lady Wenman.
'Tis done! Triumphant Accents rend the Air,
And Hymen never made a Happier Pair:
Delight does ev'ry Heart and Tongue Employ,
And the Consenting Nation gives 'em Joy!
And Hymen never made a Happier Pair:
Delight does ev'ry Heart and Tongue Employ,
And the Consenting Nation gives 'em Joy!
Thus Heav'n afflicted Vertue makes it's Care,
And when our Suffer'ings seem beyond Repair,
Raises Relief ev'n from our Own Despair.
Born for each others Joy; no Way but this
Cou'd reinstate 'em in their Former Bliss.
His Love her Widow'd Hours has overpaid;
Ev'n by her Loss she is but happier made.
And He cou'd have for years in Sorrow led,
And all the Tears for dear Mirana shed,
No Recompence but Beauteous Wenman's Bed:
Equal in Worth, and equal in her Charms,
And he once more does clasp an Angel in his Arms!
And when our Suffer'ings seem beyond Repair,
Raises Relief ev'n from our Own Despair.
Born for each others Joy; no Way but this
Cou'd reinstate 'em in their Former Bliss.
His Love her Widow'd Hours has overpaid;
Ev'n by her Loss she is but happier made.
And He cou'd have for years in Sorrow led,
And all the Tears for dear Mirana shed,
No Recompence but Beauteous Wenman's Bed:
Equal in Worth, and equal in her Charms,
And he once more does clasp an Angel in his Arms!
184
As when the Sole Arabian Phœnix dies,
Another from the Spicy Urn does rise,
And with it's wond'rous Perfume fill the Skies:
So from their very Grief their Pleasure Springs;
Tow'ring aloft, with Riches on her Wings,
She higher Sores and more Divinely Sings.
Another from the Spicy Urn does rise,
And with it's wond'rous Perfume fill the Skies:
So from their very Grief their Pleasure Springs;
Tow'ring aloft, with Riches on her Wings,
She higher Sores and more Divinely Sings.
Thus at the last Discriminating Day
(The Dross of Human Nature purg'd away)
The op'ning Graves our Bodies shall restore,
Their Beauty, Glory, and Perfection more
Than all their Prime of Youth cou'd boast before:
But yet more happy is this Mutual Pair;
Preceding what again will happen there,
Their Joys have found a Resurrection here.
(The Dross of Human Nature purg'd away)
The op'ning Graves our Bodies shall restore,
Their Beauty, Glory, and Perfection more
Than all their Prime of Youth cou'd boast before:
But yet more happy is this Mutual Pair;
Preceding what again will happen there,
Their Joys have found a Resurrection here.
When such bright Omens such a Work attend,
As 'tis commenc'd in Joy, so late 'twill end.
All just like this (so 'tis in Time decreed)
Shall be the happy Moments that succeed:
Soft as the Spheres on their smooth Axles move,
The Hours shall run Perpetual Rounds of Love!
Encreasing Mut'ual Comforts as they come,
As Figures added still augment the Sum.
As 'tis commenc'd in Joy, so late 'twill end.
All just like this (so 'tis in Time decreed)
Shall be the happy Moments that succeed:
Soft as the Spheres on their smooth Axles move,
The Hours shall run Perpetual Rounds of Love!
Encreasing Mut'ual Comforts as they come,
As Figures added still augment the Sum.
Where Love alone cements the Marriage Tye
The Knot may soon dissolve, and Passion dye;
Who only Beauty weds, when Beauty goes
No Conjugal Endearment longer shows:
Hence Love at Twenty, is at Thirty Strife,
And Hony-moons but bode a Wretched Life.
But there where Beauty does with Honour meet,
And Vertue joyns to make the Work compleat,
There Peace does dwell, and ever new Delight,
And Joys that terminate beyond our Sight:
The rest is vain:—Only where Vertue's given,
Entitles Marriage for the Work of Heav'n.
The Knot may soon dissolve, and Passion dye;
Who only Beauty weds, when Beauty goes
No Conjugal Endearment longer shows:
Hence Love at Twenty, is at Thirty Strife,
And Hony-moons but bode a Wretched Life.
But there where Beauty does with Honour meet,
And Vertue joyns to make the Work compleat,
There Peace does dwell, and ever new Delight,
And Joys that terminate beyond our Sight:
185
Entitles Marriage for the Work of Heav'n.
Not as of Old; but, each by each betray'd,
Wedlock a Snare is to the Wedded made,
And grown a Cheat like ev'ry other Trade.
This only Match redeems the Credit lost;
One such Example is an Age's boast.
Wedlock a Snare is to the Wedded made,
And grown a Cheat like ev'ry other Trade.
This only Match redeems the Credit lost;
One such Example is an Age's boast.
But now, Methinks, the City Consort's drown'd,
Tho' in less artful, yet a happier sound;
For with his Oaten Reed th'exulting Swain
(As if 'twou'd be the Golden Age again)
Spreads Peace and Love and Gladness thro' the Plain.
The happy news has reach'd their Rural Cells,
And Fame aloud her Gratefull Message tells.
Rejoyce, you Shepherds! and you Nymphs, rejoyce!
Vertue is pleas'd, and Beauty has her Choice.
Thoughtless of ill, and hating all Disguise,
Your Hearts are ever open'd in your Eyes,
Esteeming to be Honest more than Wise:
Into your humble Dwellings Care can find
No Entrance; Care, the Gangrene of the Mind.
Safe in your Circles Trouble you defy,
It glares aloof, or else stalks sullen by;
Ill can't approach and Innocence so Nigh.
Now speak your Joy! and welcome to your Groves
The Chastest Flame that ever sprung from Loves.
You with this happy Pair will most be blest,
Friends from their Childhood to your Shades profest;
O for their Plenty still return 'em Rest!
In Cities (gilded with expensive Pride)
Let Fool and Knave the Rural Life deride:
Let Ladies, too, thro' their false Opticks see,
And, name but Country, cry—Barbaritie!
When yet in Courts they shall no higher Climb
Than to turn lewd, and Rot before their Time.
These, better knowing, build the Halcyon's Nest
Where only, only Man from Strifes can rest.
In Peaceful Shades and in the Silent Bow'rs,
Ceres with Fruits, and Flora hid in Flow'rs,
What thankless Wretch cou'd misemploy his Hours?
There, Seeing how to Vertue still they tend,
We look, admire; we Imitate, and Mend;
And once Astræa does again descend!
Tho' in less artful, yet a happier sound;
For with his Oaten Reed th'exulting Swain
(As if 'twou'd be the Golden Age again)
Spreads Peace and Love and Gladness thro' the Plain.
The happy news has reach'd their Rural Cells,
And Fame aloud her Gratefull Message tells.
Rejoyce, you Shepherds! and you Nymphs, rejoyce!
Vertue is pleas'd, and Beauty has her Choice.
Thoughtless of ill, and hating all Disguise,
Your Hearts are ever open'd in your Eyes,
Esteeming to be Honest more than Wise:
Into your humble Dwellings Care can find
No Entrance; Care, the Gangrene of the Mind.
Safe in your Circles Trouble you defy,
It glares aloof, or else stalks sullen by;
Ill can't approach and Innocence so Nigh.
Now speak your Joy! and welcome to your Groves
The Chastest Flame that ever sprung from Loves.
You with this happy Pair will most be blest,
Friends from their Childhood to your Shades profest;
O for their Plenty still return 'em Rest!
In Cities (gilded with expensive Pride)
Let Fool and Knave the Rural Life deride:
Let Ladies, too, thro' their false Opticks see,
And, name but Country, cry—Barbaritie!
When yet in Courts they shall no higher Climb
Than to turn lewd, and Rot before their Time.
186
Where only, only Man from Strifes can rest.
In Peaceful Shades and in the Silent Bow'rs,
Ceres with Fruits, and Flora hid in Flow'rs,
What thankless Wretch cou'd misemploy his Hours?
There, Seeing how to Vertue still they tend,
We look, admire; we Imitate, and Mend;
And once Astræa does again descend!
If such are pleas'd who but at Distance see,
What must their near Relation's Transport be?
Those who their Blood from the same Fountains drew,
And clearly see what these but darkly view;
Who in like Acts their happy Time employ,
And whose Alliance gives 'em ampler Joy.
What must their near Relation's Transport be?
Those who their Blood from the same Fountains drew,
And clearly see what these but darkly view;
Who in like Acts their happy Time employ,
And whose Alliance gives 'em ampler Joy.
By Contemplation of what Theirs may be,
We yet climb higher 'toward Felicitie:
A Nobler Object now our Duty claims,
Norreys! tho' Young, an Elder Son of Fame's.
Nor can he hide the Transport; 'twill arise,
Dance on his Tongue, and Triumph in his Eyes.
His Parents Happiness is his Content,
And theirs Augmenting make his own Augment.
Scarce e'er before Heav'n to a Father gave
An Heir so Prudent, Dutyful and Brave.
Most elder Sons a diffe'rent Gale does drive,
Mourning but while their Parents are alive;
Only to Women, Wit and Wine devout,
Merc'ry within drives all their Rev'rence out:
He, chaster, only fills his Consort's Arms,
Nor has a wish on Earth beyond her Charms:
Or if he had, cou'd hardly higher rear
Imagin'd Graces than the Real there.
Lovely as Innocence in Truth's attire!
Her Vertue all that Precept can require,
And fixt, like Heav'n's, not to be mounted higher;
Her wond'rous Sweetness (to the meanest kind)
Her Ample Fortune and her Wealthier Mind;
Are Blessings that we strive withal to bear!
Oppressing Pleasure!—but the coming Heir
Will lighten half the happy Burden there.
We yet climb higher 'toward Felicitie:
A Nobler Object now our Duty claims,
Norreys! tho' Young, an Elder Son of Fame's.
Nor can he hide the Transport; 'twill arise,
Dance on his Tongue, and Triumph in his Eyes.
His Parents Happiness is his Content,
And theirs Augmenting make his own Augment.
Scarce e'er before Heav'n to a Father gave
An Heir so Prudent, Dutyful and Brave.
Most elder Sons a diffe'rent Gale does drive,
Mourning but while their Parents are alive;
Only to Women, Wit and Wine devout,
Merc'ry within drives all their Rev'rence out:
He, chaster, only fills his Consort's Arms,
Nor has a wish on Earth beyond her Charms:
Or if he had, cou'd hardly higher rear
Imagin'd Graces than the Real there.
187
Her Vertue all that Precept can require,
And fixt, like Heav'n's, not to be mounted higher;
Her wond'rous Sweetness (to the meanest kind)
Her Ample Fortune and her Wealthier Mind;
Are Blessings that we strive withal to bear!
Oppressing Pleasure!—but the coming Heir
Will lighten half the happy Burden there.
Nor less his Gene'rous Brothers bless the Day;
Nor less the Muse cou'd of their Vertues say,
Had she but Leisure on the Theme to stay.
Great is the Hope their Country on 'em builds,
Nor less the Promise of their Courage yields.
O more than happy in a Parents Name!
And in his Matchless Sons their Sire the same!
Who can Six Brothers of that Substance find,
Equally strong in Body and in Mind,
And yet their Fathers Years no more declin'd?
Arriv'd but little past the Middle Stage,
Fix'd from of old to be the Bound of Age.
Healthy and Vig'rous, Chearful, Strong and Gay,
As if h' had Number'd no more Years than they.
In Copying Him they'll be secure of Fame,
And make their own, like his, a Deathless Name.
Their Birth ensures their Vertue; to be Good,
They need but trace the Dictates of their Blood.
Magnetick, it does Nature's Pow'r controul,
To ev'ry Vertuous Way encline the Soul,
As Needles touch'd are sure to find the Pole.
Brave and yet Pious, just their Father's make,
From whose Example they th'Infusion take.
From what vast Sourse can all this Goodness flow!
The Sun, that does perpetual Light bestow,
Remains the same, and does not brighter grow:
But while the Bounty of his Worth is shown,
He, still bestowing, still augments his own.
Nor less the Muse cou'd of their Vertues say,
Had she but Leisure on the Theme to stay.
Great is the Hope their Country on 'em builds,
Nor less the Promise of their Courage yields.
O more than happy in a Parents Name!
And in his Matchless Sons their Sire the same!
Who can Six Brothers of that Substance find,
Equally strong in Body and in Mind,
And yet their Fathers Years no more declin'd?
Arriv'd but little past the Middle Stage,
Fix'd from of old to be the Bound of Age.
Healthy and Vig'rous, Chearful, Strong and Gay,
As if h' had Number'd no more Years than they.
In Copying Him they'll be secure of Fame,
And make their own, like his, a Deathless Name.
Their Birth ensures their Vertue; to be Good,
They need but trace the Dictates of their Blood.
Magnetick, it does Nature's Pow'r controul,
To ev'ry Vertuous Way encline the Soul,
As Needles touch'd are sure to find the Pole.
Brave and yet Pious, just their Father's make,
From whose Example they th'Infusion take.
From what vast Sourse can all this Goodness flow!
The Sun, that does perpetual Light bestow,
Remains the same, and does not brighter grow:
188
He, still bestowing, still augments his own.
Three Sisters next their Beauteous Faces show,
And Love around 'em plants th'unerring Bow:
The Shafts already he begins to whet,
And wheresoe'er they look their Points are set.
Who can from their Meridian Glory run,
That at their Rising cast so warm a Sun!
Their charming Mother shines in ev'ry Part,
Flames in their Eyes, and fixes in the Heart:
That wond'rous Pattern, shou'd they Practise right,
Will make 'em Vertue's Boast, and Man's delight.
'Tis done! the Muse, that future Worth can tell,
Sees how they all the Charming Race excell.
Mean while their Father's happy Nuptial-Night
They Celebrate with Triumph and Delight;
Delight that only will be Greater known
That Happier Night they Celebrate their own.
I see, methinks, the Youths, whose Future Care
Will be to pay their Adoration there;
I see, at last, how they Successful prove,
Truth crown'd with Truth, and Love return'd with Love!
And Love around 'em plants th'unerring Bow:
The Shafts already he begins to whet,
And wheresoe'er they look their Points are set.
Who can from their Meridian Glory run,
That at their Rising cast so warm a Sun!
Their charming Mother shines in ev'ry Part,
Flames in their Eyes, and fixes in the Heart:
That wond'rous Pattern, shou'd they Practise right,
Will make 'em Vertue's Boast, and Man's delight.
'Tis done! the Muse, that future Worth can tell,
Sees how they all the Charming Race excell.
Mean while their Father's happy Nuptial-Night
They Celebrate with Triumph and Delight;
Delight that only will be Greater known
That Happier Night they Celebrate their own.
I see, methinks, the Youths, whose Future Care
Will be to pay their Adoration there;
I see, at last, how they Successful prove,
Truth crown'd with Truth, and Love return'd with Love!
O Wenman! in this Noble Consort joyn,
And with like Accents own the Match Divine.
Your Gain's the same; and so the same shou'd be
Your thanks to Heav'n for their Felicitie.
The few whose Veins are fill'd with Noble Blood,
Have double Obligation to be Good:
They shou'd not less than their Fore-fathers shine,
But still be lending Lustre to the Line;
That Fame, Successively, may higher rise,
By just Gradations, till she reach the Skies.
And with like Accents own the Match Divine.
Your Gain's the same; and so the same shou'd be
Your thanks to Heav'n for their Felicitie.
The few whose Veins are fill'd with Noble Blood,
Have double Obligation to be Good:
They shou'd not less than their Fore-fathers shine,
But still be lending Lustre to the Line;
That Fame, Successively, may higher rise,
By just Gradations, till she reach the Skies.
189
Nor fail thy Blooming Sisters, tho' they're Young,
To give us Hope they'll once inspire our Song:
While a more moving Joy our Cares beguile,
They know no other Pleasure but to smile:
But what more happy Omen can commence
With Wedlock than the Smiles of Innocence?
O were they to the Muse but better known,
Their Praises (which wou'd soon advance her own)
She'd sing aloud to the Succeeding Age,
Invite their Wonder, and their Hearts engage;
And by the Bud of Beauty, blushing shown,
Prepare our Youth against 'twas fully blown.
To give us Hope they'll once inspire our Song:
While a more moving Joy our Cares beguile,
They know no other Pleasure but to smile:
But what more happy Omen can commence
With Wedlock than the Smiles of Innocence?
O were they to the Muse but better known,
Their Praises (which wou'd soon advance her own)
She'd sing aloud to the Succeeding Age,
Invite their Wonder, and their Hearts engage;
And by the Bud of Beauty, blushing shown,
Prepare our Youth against 'twas fully blown.
What sacred Hand cou'd thus Divinely strike,
At once to Tune these diff'rent Strings alike?
Make various Int'rests with one Soul agree,
And without Discord cause such Harmonie?
A Harmony that lasting Joy imparts:
O Wond'rous Musick of agreeing Hearts!
No other Skill this Concord cou'd inspire,
But what presides in the Celestial Quire:
Nor less th'effect cou'd of the Union be
Of all her Charms with all his Pietie.
At once to Tune these diff'rent Strings alike?
Make various Int'rests with one Soul agree,
And without Discord cause such Harmonie?
A Harmony that lasting Joy imparts:
O Wond'rous Musick of agreeing Hearts!
No other Skill this Concord cou'd inspire,
But what presides in the Celestial Quire:
Nor less th'effect cou'd of the Union be
Of all her Charms with all his Pietie.
Cou'd we describe Him 'twere a Noble Toil,
A Work on which succeeding Times might smile:
'Tis true, a Happier Pen has led the Way,
Yet we'll endeavour at a faint Essay.
A Work on which succeeding Times might smile:
'Tis true, a Happier Pen has led the Way,
Yet we'll endeavour at a faint Essay.
His wond'rous Youth did early Promise give
To what a Pitch his Worth wou'd once arrive:
His Riper Vertues are a Proof how near
Man may attain to a Perfection here.
So Good, as if alone for good design'd!
Nor is his Form less Charming than his Mind:
A Manly Loveliness his Look does wear;
The Sweet and Strong are justly mingl'd there.
Nor others, nor himself he e'er deceives;
And nothing's left unpractis'd he believes.
More than his Foes he for their Error mourns,
And Good for Evil constantly returns.
What e'er his Anger, or what e'er his Wrong,
He ne'er cou'd carry his Resentment long;
But Pardon ask, it bears from thence it's Date;
No Criminal cou'd ever come too late:
Quite from his Memory you raze th'Offence,
So like a God he smiles on Penitence.
While we can think on Wrongs w'are yet not ev'n,
And Copy ill the Precept taught by Heav'n;
For he that's not forgot is not forgiv'n.
Thus a strict Eye he o'er his Conscience keeps,
And he will be at Peace before he sleeps.
Nor has he but one Way arriv'd at Fame;
In Publick and in Private he's the same.
In Storms that did the Barque of State o'erwhelm,
And threw th'unhappy Pilot from the Helm;
When Pow'rful Faction did the Land divide;
When boundless Lust and Arbitrary Pride
O'erflow'd our Laws with an Impetuous Tyde;
When plucking down the State but half wou'd do,
And the next Step was to Unchurch us too,
Then did our Hero in the Breach abide,
Constant to Truth, and faithful to his Side,
When Loyalty was never Nicelier try'd;
When Conscience stood confounded at the Sight,
And trim'd, it self, between the Wrong and Right.
To what a Pitch his Worth wou'd once arrive:
His Riper Vertues are a Proof how near
Man may attain to a Perfection here.
So Good, as if alone for good design'd!
Nor is his Form less Charming than his Mind:
190
The Sweet and Strong are justly mingl'd there.
Nor others, nor himself he e'er deceives;
And nothing's left unpractis'd he believes.
More than his Foes he for their Error mourns,
And Good for Evil constantly returns.
What e'er his Anger, or what e'er his Wrong,
He ne'er cou'd carry his Resentment long;
But Pardon ask, it bears from thence it's Date;
No Criminal cou'd ever come too late:
Quite from his Memory you raze th'Offence,
So like a God he smiles on Penitence.
While we can think on Wrongs w'are yet not ev'n,
And Copy ill the Precept taught by Heav'n;
For he that's not forgot is not forgiv'n.
Thus a strict Eye he o'er his Conscience keeps,
And he will be at Peace before he sleeps.
Nor has he but one Way arriv'd at Fame;
In Publick and in Private he's the same.
In Storms that did the Barque of State o'erwhelm,
And threw th'unhappy Pilot from the Helm;
When Pow'rful Faction did the Land divide;
When boundless Lust and Arbitrary Pride
O'erflow'd our Laws with an Impetuous Tyde;
When plucking down the State but half wou'd do,
And the next Step was to Unchurch us too,
Then did our Hero in the Breach abide,
Constant to Truth, and faithful to his Side,
When Loyalty was never Nicelier try'd;
When Conscience stood confounded at the Sight,
And trim'd, it self, between the Wrong and Right.
Devout as Hermits, and as oft at Prayer;
The Church's Champion, and her Sons his Care.
Bounteous as Heav'n, that to him largely gives,
And largely 'tis diffus'd as he receives.
His Favours, once conferring, know no end;
The noblest Master, and the fastest Friend!
His Word so Sacred, none cou'd e'er upbraid
He ever broke the smallest Vow he made.
Like Truth sincere, as sweet in his Address,
And ever means the Thing he does profess.
Unfit for Towns where Flatt'ry does preside,
Where Worth to Vice, and Prudence bends to Pride;
But O most fit! were Lewdness banish'd thence,
And Courts encourag'd Honesty and Sense.
O Live, Bertudor! Live in Blackmore's Lays!
I, who want Wing so high a Pitch to raise,
Stoop humbly for the Leavings of thy Praise:
He is not wrong'd, or of Applause bereft,
To let me take the Gleanings he has left:
His Noble Harvest ne'er the less appears,
Because I pick the loose and scatter'd Ears.
The Church's Champion, and her Sons his Care.
Bounteous as Heav'n, that to him largely gives,
And largely 'tis diffus'd as he receives.
191
The noblest Master, and the fastest Friend!
His Word so Sacred, none cou'd e'er upbraid
He ever broke the smallest Vow he made.
Like Truth sincere, as sweet in his Address,
And ever means the Thing he does profess.
Unfit for Towns where Flatt'ry does preside,
Where Worth to Vice, and Prudence bends to Pride;
But O most fit! were Lewdness banish'd thence,
And Courts encourag'd Honesty and Sense.
O Live, Bertudor! Live in Blackmore's Lays!
I, who want Wing so high a Pitch to raise,
Stoop humbly for the Leavings of thy Praise:
He is not wrong'd, or of Applause bereft,
To let me take the Gleanings he has left:
His Noble Harvest ne'er the less appears,
Because I pick the loose and scatter'd Ears.
What Consort for such Matcheless Worth was fit
But She that does enjoy, and merit it?
She that his Comforts cou'd retrieve alone,
And, by Improving his, restore her own.
A Virgin, Mother, Wife, and Widows Name
So well discharg'd, is sure to meet with Fame.
No Reputation e'er was earlier rais'd,
More truly Honour'd, or more justly Prais'd.
Her Worth (the Theme of all the Learned Swains)
Sounds high as Heav'n in the Oxonian Plains.
Her Name is known wherever Goodness dwells;
Belov'd she lives, unenvy'd she excells.
Thus to his Arms she comes, like Autumn, round
With Plenty hung, and Num'rous Beauties crown'd:
O charm on charm! Rich in her Earthly Store,
But in her Graces and her Vertues more.
But She that does enjoy, and merit it?
She that his Comforts cou'd retrieve alone,
And, by Improving his, restore her own.
A Virgin, Mother, Wife, and Widows Name
So well discharg'd, is sure to meet with Fame.
No Reputation e'er was earlier rais'd,
More truly Honour'd, or more justly Prais'd.
Her Worth (the Theme of all the Learned Swains)
Sounds high as Heav'n in the Oxonian Plains.
Her Name is known wherever Goodness dwells;
Belov'd she lives, unenvy'd she excells.
Thus to his Arms she comes, like Autumn, round
With Plenty hung, and Num'rous Beauties crown'd:
O charm on charm! Rich in her Earthly Store,
But in her Graces and her Vertues more.
192
Where can we such another Instance see;
Of Mutual truth in Modern Qualitie?
Design and Flatt'ry, Nonsense, Chance and Noise,
Bring but the Marry'd to polluted Joys.
Here Vertue only does the Spousals bind,
And Angels are but in that Union joyn'd.
Of Mutual truth in Modern Qualitie?
Design and Flatt'ry, Nonsense, Chance and Noise,
Bring but the Marry'd to polluted Joys.
Here Vertue only does the Spousals bind,
And Angels are but in that Union joyn'd.
Hail happy Pair! and from the Humble Muse
Accept this Wreath, and her Delay excuse:
Tho' no Addition to your Joy she brings,
Do not despise her that in Duty sings:
She has not yet with Flatt'ry so deceiv'd,
As when she Praises not to be believ'd:
From the strong Holds of Truth none shall Entice
Her forth, tho' us'd the worse for scourging Vice:
Clos'd in her Cell, and Quiet all her Aim,
She neither covets, courts, or cares for Fame;
But in Contented Poverty does sit,
And laughs at those that think to thrive by Wit.
Accept this Wreath, and her Delay excuse:
Tho' no Addition to your Joy she brings,
Do not despise her that in Duty sings:
She has not yet with Flatt'ry so deceiv'd,
As when she Praises not to be believ'd:
From the strong Holds of Truth none shall Entice
Her forth, tho' us'd the worse for scourging Vice:
Clos'd in her Cell, and Quiet all her Aim,
She neither covets, courts, or cares for Fame;
But in Contented Poverty does sit,
And laughs at those that think to thrive by Wit.
To his Grace the Duke of Beaufort on his Marriage with the Lady Mary Sackville.
My LORD,
Let one unknown his willing Homage pay,
To sing your CHOICE, and celebrate the Day
That will to Thousands more Auspic'ous prove,
With Beauty crown'd, and smiling all with Love!
To sing your CHOICE, and celebrate the Day
That will to Thousands more Auspic'ous prove,
With Beauty crown'd, and smiling all with Love!
I see, Methinks, the Nuptial Pomp appear,
But yet too distant to distinguish clear:
All Glitt'ring as with Stars the Milky-Way;
But those of Night, and these are Gemms of Day.
Yet soon, alas! they vanish from our Sight,
All Lost in Sackvill's Purer Globe of Light,
Just as Aurora, when the Sun does rise,
Melts into Paleness, and deserts the Skies.
But yet too distant to distinguish clear:
All Glitt'ring as with Stars the Milky-Way;
But those of Night, and these are Gemms of Day.
193
All Lost in Sackvill's Purer Globe of Light,
Just as Aurora, when the Sun does rise,
Melts into Paleness, and deserts the Skies.
Here let our Praises fix; and on the Bride
Propitious to her Fame, with Joy reside:
The Bride! the softest of her Beaute'ous Kind!
Her Form as much a Wonder as her Mind!
Whom Providence to Noble Beaufort gave,
To let him here of Bliss a foretast have!
O Goodness that we never can express!
For all Description makes Perfection less.
Never did yet the Marriage Tye Commence
With so much Sweetness, youth and Innocence.
Not Eve, just finish'd by th'Almighty Pow'r,
And led by Angels to the Nuptial Bow'r,
Had Chaster Thoughts; or, blest with Greater Charms,
Receiv'd a Nobler Consort to her Arms.
Propitious to her Fame, with Joy reside:
The Bride! the softest of her Beaute'ous Kind!
Her Form as much a Wonder as her Mind!
Whom Providence to Noble Beaufort gave,
To let him here of Bliss a foretast have!
O Goodness that we never can express!
For all Description makes Perfection less.
Never did yet the Marriage Tye Commence
With so much Sweetness, youth and Innocence.
Not Eve, just finish'd by th'Almighty Pow'r,
And led by Angels to the Nuptial Bow'r,
Had Chaster Thoughts; or, blest with Greater Charms,
Receiv'd a Nobler Consort to her Arms.
Oh on her Face behold the Mother rise!
Bloom in her Cheeks! and Brighten in her Eyes!
I see her there with all Her Graces on,
As then, when first She was to Dorset known;
When Crowds of Lovers did their Cares express,
But only, only His cou'd find Access.
Hard is the Heart, and deaf must be the Ear,
When so much Worth Approaches, not to hear.
But Ah! a Mist of Fate extinguish'd quite
That Beam of Heav'n, and snatch't Her from our Sight:
A better Fortune may the Daughter boast,
And doubly live the years that Angel lost.
Ah! how did then Northampton's Countess stand,
Raving with Grief, and deaf to Heav'n's Command!
Patience! that makes all other Sorrow less,
What cou'd it help in such a vast Distress!
When to the Soul the Piercing Anguish drove,
And there again had fresh Supplies from Love:
What cou'd her Wisdom, what her Vertues do!
How cou'd they close the Intellectual view,
And heal a Grief which Thought wou'd still renew?
For such a Blessing, and so early gone,
Only this Happy Union cou'd atone.
Bloom in her Cheeks! and Brighten in her Eyes!
I see her there with all Her Graces on,
As then, when first She was to Dorset known;
When Crowds of Lovers did their Cares express,
But only, only His cou'd find Access.
Hard is the Heart, and deaf must be the Ear,
When so much Worth Approaches, not to hear.
But Ah! a Mist of Fate extinguish'd quite
That Beam of Heav'n, and snatch't Her from our Sight:
A better Fortune may the Daughter boast,
And doubly live the years that Angel lost.
Ah! how did then Northampton's Countess stand,
Raving with Grief, and deaf to Heav'n's Command!
Patience! that makes all other Sorrow less,
What cou'd it help in such a vast Distress!
194
And there again had fresh Supplies from Love:
What cou'd her Wisdom, what her Vertues do!
How cou'd they close the Intellectual view,
And heal a Grief which Thought wou'd still renew?
For such a Blessing, and so early gone,
Only this Happy Union cou'd atone.
But hide, my Muse, that Prospect from our Sight,
Nor follow Fancy when she leaves Delight.
The Daughter lives, and Dorset lives to see
That Loss repair'd in Her Felicitie!
With Joyful Eyes He does the Rites Survey,
And gives to Heav'n the Praise of the Auspicious Day.
O Gene'rous Hand! that spreads like Nile his Store,
And wou'd, if Possible, have none be Poor.
Whole Families he does in secret raise;
Performs the Duty, but prevents the Praise.
Never before were Wealth and Honours giv'n
To one so Grateful in Returns to Heav'n.
For these and for a Thousand Deeds of Fame,
Aloud the Poets Celebrate his Name:
Nor less they owe to his deserv'd Applause,
That tries their Ore, and Constitutes their Laws.
Happy the Life and Labours of the Bard
Since Dorset writ, and Dorset did Reward.
By his Example He their Fury fires,
And with his Hand gives all their Need requires.
Ah long may Fate th'Æthereal Call delay!
For how will they Subsist and he away?
He is the Mirror, His the solid Name,
And they but live in a Reflected Fame.
Nor follow Fancy when she leaves Delight.
The Daughter lives, and Dorset lives to see
That Loss repair'd in Her Felicitie!
With Joyful Eyes He does the Rites Survey,
And gives to Heav'n the Praise of the Auspicious Day.
O Gene'rous Hand! that spreads like Nile his Store,
And wou'd, if Possible, have none be Poor.
Whole Families he does in secret raise;
Performs the Duty, but prevents the Praise.
Never before were Wealth and Honours giv'n
To one so Grateful in Returns to Heav'n.
For these and for a Thousand Deeds of Fame,
Aloud the Poets Celebrate his Name:
Nor less they owe to his deserv'd Applause,
That tries their Ore, and Constitutes their Laws.
Happy the Life and Labours of the Bard
Since Dorset writ, and Dorset did Reward.
By his Example He their Fury fires,
And with his Hand gives all their Need requires.
Ah long may Fate th'Æthereal Call delay!
For how will they Subsist and he away?
He is the Mirror, His the solid Name,
And they but live in a Reflected Fame.
And in that Mirror well the Muses see
What their lov'd Theme, their Buckhurst once will be:
Buckhurst! design'd for the next Ages Bliss,
As Heaven did his Propitious Sire for this.
Vast are the Hopes of his Meridian store,
For never yet a Morning Promis'd more!
All sweet his Temper! as 'twere fram'd to fit
The Mothers Vertues, and the Father's Wit.
With double Joy this Day to Him is shown,
As 'tis a Call to Introduce his Own,
When to his Arm some yielding Fair retires;
And He Enjoys what all the World admires.
What their lov'd Theme, their Buckhurst once will be:
195
As Heaven did his Propitious Sire for this.
Vast are the Hopes of his Meridian store,
For never yet a Morning Promis'd more!
All sweet his Temper! as 'twere fram'd to fit
The Mothers Vertues, and the Father's Wit.
With double Joy this Day to Him is shown,
As 'tis a Call to Introduce his Own,
When to his Arm some yielding Fair retires;
And He Enjoys what all the World admires.
One half we of the Noble Train have view'd;
On Beaufort's Side 'twill be again renew'd:
A Race fram'd for the Best and Noblest Things,
Of serving Nations, and obliging Kings:
Witness the Marquess who in Civil-War
Advanc'd his Worth and Loyalty so far:
To his Immortal Fame our Annals shew
He Nobly Fought, and did what Man cou'd do
(Tho' forc'd to Balance an Unequal Weight)
To save the Church, and prop a Sinking State.
Beaufort was next, who, to his Prince Sincere,
When a Deserting Nation left him bare,
Convey'd this best of Counsels to his Ear.
O Stop your Course! nor Pow'r by Arms affect;
Your People will Obey, if you'll Protect:
But if on Gallia's Friendship You rely,
And with your Consort,and Her Priests comply,
You'll live Exil'd; and, last, unpitied die.
In vain he spoke; the Wretched Prince aspir'd
To all their Pride and Bigottry requir'd;
When Beaufort to the Rural Shades retir'd:
Where soon He found the Country's sweet Repose
A Nobler Joy than Court, or King bestows.
Free from Tumultuous Strifes and loose Excess,
'Tis only there we relish Happiness.
There did he Plough, and Sow, and Plant and Build,
And Triumph in the Labours of the Field;
As if no End of Living he enjoy'd,
But to do Good, and keep the Poor employ'd.
On Beaufort's Side 'twill be again renew'd:
A Race fram'd for the Best and Noblest Things,
Of serving Nations, and obliging Kings:
Witness the Marquess who in Civil-War
Advanc'd his Worth and Loyalty so far:
To his Immortal Fame our Annals shew
He Nobly Fought, and did what Man cou'd do
(Tho' forc'd to Balance an Unequal Weight)
To save the Church, and prop a Sinking State.
Beaufort was next, who, to his Prince Sincere,
When a Deserting Nation left him bare,
Convey'd this best of Counsels to his Ear.
O Stop your Course! nor Pow'r by Arms affect;
Your People will Obey, if you'll Protect:
But if on Gallia's Friendship You rely,
And with your Consort,and Her Priests comply,
You'll live Exil'd; and, last, unpitied die.
In vain he spoke; the Wretched Prince aspir'd
To all their Pride and Bigottry requir'd;
When Beaufort to the Rural Shades retir'd:
Where soon He found the Country's sweet Repose
A Nobler Joy than Court, or King bestows.
Free from Tumultuous Strifes and loose Excess,
'Tis only there we relish Happiness.
196
And Triumph in the Labours of the Field;
As if no End of Living he enjoy'd,
But to do Good, and keep the Poor employ'd.
Of these, some Ceres to the Garners bore;
Some for the Cattle Reek their Winter's Store:
Some turn the hardn'd Glebe, and lay it bare,
To render't Pregnant for the following Year.
There to the Clouds the Falcon wings her Way!
Here runs the Tim'rous Hare, and there the Stag's at Bay:
Nor yet does Reynard scape th'unequal Strife,
But with his Death compensates for his Life.
The Shepherd there his Flocks to washing brings,
The Shearer here his Rich Employment sings;
The Pride of Foreign Courts, and Wear of Kings!
The Fatting Ox, the Loving Kine and Deer,
For all their Wants have all Attendants near.
Some in the Cooling Grots, and Fragrant Bow'rs,
Like the First Pair, employ their happy Hours,
To prune the Trees Luxurious Growth, and prop the bending Flow'rs.
Some on the Verdant Lap of Flora lie,
To root the Suckers that obtrude too nigh.
Here Vistoe's, cut for many Miles out-right,
Open the distant Country to our Sight,
And fill the Eye with Wonder and Delight.
O happy Stage of sweet and various Scenes!
O Fountains, Wildernesses, Walks and Greens!
So just your Order, and dispos'd so ev'n,
To Eden scarce were greater Beauties giv'n,
Tho' Cast, and Planted by the Hand of Heav'n!
Some for the Cattle Reek their Winter's Store:
Some turn the hardn'd Glebe, and lay it bare,
To render't Pregnant for the following Year.
There to the Clouds the Falcon wings her Way!
Here runs the Tim'rous Hare, and there the Stag's at Bay:
Nor yet does Reynard scape th'unequal Strife,
But with his Death compensates for his Life.
The Shepherd there his Flocks to washing brings,
The Shearer here his Rich Employment sings;
The Pride of Foreign Courts, and Wear of Kings!
The Fatting Ox, the Loving Kine and Deer,
For all their Wants have all Attendants near.
Some in the Cooling Grots, and Fragrant Bow'rs,
Like the First Pair, employ their happy Hours,
To prune the Trees Luxurious Growth, and prop the bending Flow'rs.
Some on the Verdant Lap of Flora lie,
To root the Suckers that obtrude too nigh.
Here Vistoe's, cut for many Miles out-right,
Open the distant Country to our Sight,
And fill the Eye with Wonder and Delight.
O happy Stage of sweet and various Scenes!
O Fountains, Wildernesses, Walks and Greens!
So just your Order, and dispos'd so ev'n,
To Eden scarce were greater Beauties giv'n,
Tho' Cast, and Planted by the Hand of Heav'n!
How cou'd such Numbers, by his Bounty sed,
Eat on without a Miracle of Bread!
But Prudence solely all his Actions sway'd,
And Hundreds more had readily been paid:
Nor ever was he better Temper'd found,
Than when his Workmen spread the Country round,
Walling his Trees, and managing his Ground.
Thus did he Glorious live; and last expir'd,
At once Belov'd, Lamented, and Admir'd.
Hapless in only this;—first to survey
His eldest Son relentless torn away,
Then Die himself before this happy Day:
That Son whose Vertues did the Age adorn,
And whom it yet has not forgot to Mourn.
I see, Methinks, th'Affrighted Steeds appear,
Whirling along the Trembling Charioteer:
With broken Reins the steepy Clift they take,
And, Rattling down, a wild Confusion make:
Entangl'd in their Harness, high they rear,
Their threat'ning Hoofs, and shoot their Foam into the Air.
The Marquess by this time Concern'd appear'd,
But, leaping out, Receiv'd the Ill he fear'd:
Pull'd by his Garments back, his Flesh and Bones
Are Crush'd and Ground between the Wheels and Stones.
His wretched Lady sees—She shrieks! she cries!
She prays!—and cast to Heav'n her beaute'ous Eyes!
In vain!—the Accents never reach'd the Skies!
Some cruel Pow'r had, sure, the Passage barr'd,
Or so much Worth and Sweetness had been heard!—
But whither has my heedless Duty stray'd!—
O drop the Pencil!—there's too much display'd!
Be quick! and cast the rest into a Shade!
Eat on without a Miracle of Bread!
But Prudence solely all his Actions sway'd,
And Hundreds more had readily been paid:
197
Than when his Workmen spread the Country round,
Walling his Trees, and managing his Ground.
Thus did he Glorious live; and last expir'd,
At once Belov'd, Lamented, and Admir'd.
Hapless in only this;—first to survey
His eldest Son relentless torn away,
Then Die himself before this happy Day:
That Son whose Vertues did the Age adorn,
And whom it yet has not forgot to Mourn.
I see, Methinks, th'Affrighted Steeds appear,
Whirling along the Trembling Charioteer:
With broken Reins the steepy Clift they take,
And, Rattling down, a wild Confusion make:
Entangl'd in their Harness, high they rear,
Their threat'ning Hoofs, and shoot their Foam into the Air.
The Marquess by this time Concern'd appear'd,
But, leaping out, Receiv'd the Ill he fear'd:
Pull'd by his Garments back, his Flesh and Bones
Are Crush'd and Ground between the Wheels and Stones.
His wretched Lady sees—She shrieks! she cries!
She prays!—and cast to Heav'n her beaute'ous Eyes!
In vain!—the Accents never reach'd the Skies!
Some cruel Pow'r had, sure, the Passage barr'd,
Or so much Worth and Sweetness had been heard!—
But whither has my heedless Duty stray'd!—
O drop the Pencil!—there's too much display'd!
Be quick! and cast the rest into a Shade!
And just in Time; for now in View I find
His Noble Mother, whose aspiring Mind
Does take the Skies, and soar above her Kind.
O Pattern, ev'ry Lady long shou'd read!
But nothing, nothing ever will exceed!
If 'tis such Glory to be Vertuous Young,
What must it be to live a Saint so long!
In all our Annals where's a Female Name
So truly Great, and well secur'd to Fame?
Where can we find, if it as num'rous be
As this, so well a govern'd Family?
True as a Watch she does the whole dispose,
And ev'ry little Wheel it's Office knows:
No Jangle, or Confusion e'er is found;
So smooth the Motion that does turn 'em round.
What Servant ever was Incourag'd there,
Intemp'rate, or neglecting Hours of Prayer?
Most of our Noble Houses are become
Odious abroad, and Schools for Vice at Home:
But here a different Method still did shew
We may be Nobly born, and Vertuous too;
That Pow'r it self may yet Oppression shun,
And Dignity and Honesty be ONE.
Who ever saw the needy Tradesmen wait,
Shaking their Heads, and crowding to the Gate,
But coming still too Early, or too Late?
Who ever saw the Poor and Needy Soul
Derided? or Dismiss'd without a Dole?
O Vertue that we ever must admire!
In view of Heav'n, and yet advancing higher!
Such Prudence has not till our Age been shown;
Nor will again to Future Times be known,
Unless the Beaute'ous Bride convey it down:
Yes, Madam, all we in this PATTERN see,
Her Management, her Wit, and Piety,
The Coming Age expects will all revive in Thee.
His Noble Mother, whose aspiring Mind
Does take the Skies, and soar above her Kind.
198
But nothing, nothing ever will exceed!
If 'tis such Glory to be Vertuous Young,
What must it be to live a Saint so long!
In all our Annals where's a Female Name
So truly Great, and well secur'd to Fame?
Where can we find, if it as num'rous be
As this, so well a govern'd Family?
True as a Watch she does the whole dispose,
And ev'ry little Wheel it's Office knows:
No Jangle, or Confusion e'er is found;
So smooth the Motion that does turn 'em round.
What Servant ever was Incourag'd there,
Intemp'rate, or neglecting Hours of Prayer?
Most of our Noble Houses are become
Odious abroad, and Schools for Vice at Home:
But here a different Method still did shew
We may be Nobly born, and Vertuous too;
That Pow'r it self may yet Oppression shun,
And Dignity and Honesty be ONE.
Who ever saw the needy Tradesmen wait,
Shaking their Heads, and crowding to the Gate,
But coming still too Early, or too Late?
Who ever saw the Poor and Needy Soul
Derided? or Dismiss'd without a Dole?
O Vertue that we ever must admire!
In view of Heav'n, and yet advancing higher!
Such Prudence has not till our Age been shown;
Nor will again to Future Times be known,
Unless the Beaute'ous Bride convey it down:
Yes, Madam, all we in this PATTERN see,
Her Management, her Wit, and Piety,
The Coming Age expects will all revive in Thee.
199
'Tis fit, my Lord, we stop our Courser here;
There is no Moving now the Bride's so near;
No Creature can be blam'd for Gazing there!
Abroad w'ave been, and took a spacious Ring,
And now Return Your Mutual Flame to sing:
O Sweetness!—but no more!—for Language fails
Where such unusual Excellence prevails,
And flashing round us more than Human Light,
Confounds the Utt'rance equal with the Sight.
I see You view her with a Lover's Eye,
Darting their Beams, and melting into Joy.
While others Beauties on the Stalk decay,
You see Your BRIDE's advancing ev'ry Day;
O may it Root, and never wear away!
There may the Heav'nly Colours long be born;
The very same that are by Angels worn,
Or those in which Aurora dips the Morn.
And may you yet this further Kindness prove,
As She in Beauty, to advance in Love,
Till we than HER can nothing fairer view,
And Guardian Angels prove less kind than YOU.
There is no Moving now the Bride's so near;
No Creature can be blam'd for Gazing there!
Abroad w'ave been, and took a spacious Ring,
And now Return Your Mutual Flame to sing:
O Sweetness!—but no more!—for Language fails
Where such unusual Excellence prevails,
And flashing round us more than Human Light,
Confounds the Utt'rance equal with the Sight.
I see You view her with a Lover's Eye,
Darting their Beams, and melting into Joy.
While others Beauties on the Stalk decay,
You see Your BRIDE's advancing ev'ry Day;
O may it Root, and never wear away!
There may the Heav'nly Colours long be born;
The very same that are by Angels worn,
Or those in which Aurora dips the Morn.
And may you yet this further Kindness prove,
As She in Beauty, to advance in Love,
Till we than HER can nothing fairer view,
And Guardian Angels prove less kind than YOU.
Where is the Mirth that to the Day belongs?
Where are the Flutes, the Dances and the Songs?
Summon ye Master Shepherds of the Plains,
Summon together all the Nymphs and Swains,
That ev'ry Soul, and loud that Heav'n may hear,
May bless the Happy, Loving, Lovely Pair!
'Tis done!—the Hearty, General Shout I hear,
It rends the Mountains, and it deafs the Air!
See! how in Crowds Obsequiously they move
To welcome Beauty, and to Honour Love.
Among the rest, O deign but to Receive
This Chaplet which the Rural Muse does weave;
If but with Smiles her Present You Regard,
She humbly here withdraws, and asks no more Reward.
Where are the Flutes, the Dances and the Songs?
Summon ye Master Shepherds of the Plains,
Summon together all the Nymphs and Swains,
That ev'ry Soul, and loud that Heav'n may hear,
May bless the Happy, Loving, Lovely Pair!
'Tis done!—the Hearty, General Shout I hear,
It rends the Mountains, and it deafs the Air!
See! how in Crowds Obsequiously they move
To welcome Beauty, and to Honour Love.
Among the rest, O deign but to Receive
This Chaplet which the Rural Muse does weave;
If but with Smiles her Present You Regard,
She humbly here withdraws, and asks no more Reward.
200
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.
202
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:
204
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 | |