A Pindarick poem on the happy coronation Of His most Sacred Majesty James II And his Illustrious Consort Queen Mary. By Mrs. Behn |
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A Pindarick poem on the happy coronation Of His most Sacred Majesty James II | ||
X.
And now the Nymphs ply all their Female artsTo dress Her for Her victory of hearts;
A Thousand little LOVES descend!
Young waiting Cupids with officious care
In smiling order all attend:
This, decks Her Snowy Neck, and that Her Ebon Hair.
The Trophies which the Conqueress must adorn,
Are by the busie wantons born;
Who at Her Feet the shining burdens lay,
The Goddess pleas'd to see their Toyls,
Scatters Ten Thousand Graces from Her Smiles;
While the wing'd Boys catch ev'ry flying Ray.
This bears the valu'd Treasure of the East,
And lugs the Golden casket on His Breast;
Anothers little hand sustains
The weight of Oriental Chains;
And in the flowing jetty curles
They weave and braid the luced Pearls;
Round Her bright Face their nimble fingers play,
And ev'ry touch gives the young Gods a joy!
They gaze and hov'r round Her wond'rous Eyes,
Where a vast Heav'n of Wit and Beauty lies;
They point their Darts, and make their Arrows fine,
From the eternal Rays with which they shine;
From Her fair rising Breasts soft sighs they take,
To keep young tortur'd Lovers still awake.
From ev'ry Charm and Grace they bear,
Uneasie wishes, and despair;
From Her alone the Bankrupt Loves supply,
Their rifl'd Quivers with Artillery.
Fatal to All but Her Lov'd-Monarchs heart,
Who of the same Divine Materials wrought;
Cou'd equally exchange the dart,
Receive the wound with Life, with Life the wound impart;
And mixt the Soul as gently as the thought;
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Whil'st only Juno cou'd embrace the God!
A Pindarick poem on the happy coronation Of His most Sacred Majesty James II | ||