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University of Virginia Library

Poems on Several Occasions

By Mary Masters

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

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TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE Earl of BURLINGTON.

The Female Triumph.

AN ANSWER TO A PANEGYRICK,

To Marinda, at Parting.

A Question to Marinda.

On Marinda's Marriage.

The Defense of my self.

Clemene's Character.

The 139th Psalm.

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

On the Death of Miss Molly Lombe.

To the same, on the Birth of her Son.

To the Sun, in a cold dry Season.

Defence of Myrtillo .

Sent to a Lady with Myrtillo's Poems.

To Clemene, leaving the Country in Autumn.

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

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

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

Another on the same.

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

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

The Heir of Arthington,

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

Occasion'd by Clemene's refusing a Request.

On the Marriage of Captain C.

To Mrs. Barker of York,

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

To a Lady on her Birth-Day.

The 39th Psalm.

The Resolution broke.

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

The Answer to the foregoing Verses.

Maria in Affliction.

The Consolations of Friendship.

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

Sent to a Friend on Valentine-day.

On Oriana's Marriage.

To Clemene on her Birth-day.

To Guardian Angels.

On changing my Lodgings.

Emblems of Clemene.

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

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

Sent to Marinda from the North of England.

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

On a Gnat flying about a Candle.

To a Lady going to Church.

Nocturnal Thoughts.

To Clemene on the New Year.

On hearing some Reflections upon a deceas'd Lady.

The 29th Psalm.

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

A Journey from Otley to Wakefield.

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

To the same; enquiring why I wept.

On a Nosegay made by Clemene.

To Mr. J. P. on his Marriage.

To Clemene, leaving the Country in a gloomy Day.

To the same weeping.

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

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

To Clemene, on her Birth-day.

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

A Reflection upon my own Formation.

A Morning Hymn.

A Prayer for a sick Friend.

The 37th Psalm.

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

The Vanity of Human Life.

Reasons against deifying the Fair Sex.

The Morning Frolick.

The Dedication to Manlius.

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

An Epistle to my Wife.

Verses on the Coronation.

Verses to the Memory of Mr. Addison.

The XC Psalm, translated from the Original.

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104

The Consolations of Friendship.

Address'd to Calista.

Few Days are past, since my unquiet Breast
Was with conflicting Agonies opprest.
Contesting Passions in a Torrent rose,
My Bosom swell'd with its o'erflowing Woes:
Grief and Despair the Pow'rs of Thought controul,
And sadly triumph o'er my wounded Soul.

Thus rack'd alternately by diff'rent Care,
With aking Heart, I to a Friend repair;
Whose healing Counsel might relieve my Pain,
'Twas thus I hop'd; nor did I hope in vain:
Calista was her Name, a Virgin fair,
And kind as interceding Angels are.

105

No lawless Passion can her Reason blind,
Whose Aspect shews her inward Peace of Mind.
Soon as I was with her sweet Presence blest,
'Twas Peace, 'twas Joy, 'twas Heav'n within my Breast:
Grief and her gloomy Train were banish'd thence,
As I approach'd her purer Excellence.

Say, my Calista, by what wondrous Art
Didst thou allay the Torments of my Heart?
How was it done? say, by what Pow'r Divine?
And where was lodg'd the precious Anodyne?
Thou only could'st Tranquillity restore,
And change me from the Wretch I was before.
My Bosom is from ev'ry Passion free;
Mild, calm, serene, I now resemble Thee.