Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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| [MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, FROM THE
COLLECTION OF EVANS,
INCLUDING TWENTY-FOUR SONGS.] |
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 | Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works |  |
153
[MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, FROM THE COLLECTION OF EVANS, INCLUDING TWENTY-FOUR SONGS.]
I.
[Strephonetta, why d' ye fly me]
Strephonetta, why d' ye fly me,
With such rigour in your eyes?
Oh! 'tis cruel to deny me,
Since your charms I so much prize.
With such rigour in your eyes?
Oh! 'tis cruel to deny me,
Since your charms I so much prize.
But I plainly see the reason,
Why in vain I you pursu'd;
Her to gain 'twas out of season,
Who before the chaplain woo'd.
Why in vain I you pursu'd;
Her to gain 'twas out of season,
Who before the chaplain woo'd.
II. PARTING WITH FLAVIA.
Come, weep no more, for 'tis in vain;
Torment not thus your pretty heart:
Think, Flavia, we may meet again,
As well as, that we now must part.
Torment not thus your pretty heart:
Think, Flavia, we may meet again,
As well as, that we now must part.
You sigh and weep: the Gods neglect
That precious dew your eyes let fall:
Our joy and grief with like respect
They mind; and that is, not at all.
That precious dew your eyes let fall:
Our joy and grief with like respect
They mind; and that is, not at all.
We pray, in hopes they will be kind,
As if they did regard our state:
They hear; and the return we find
Is, that no prayers can alter Fate.
As if they did regard our state:
They hear; and the return we find
Is, that no prayers can alter Fate.
154
Then clear your brow, and look more gay,
Do not yourself to grief resign;
Who knows but that those powers may
The pair, they now have parted, join?
Do not yourself to grief resign;
Who knows but that those powers may
The pair, they now have parted, join?
But, since they have thus cruel been,
And could such constant lovers sever;
I dare not trust, lest now they're in,
They should divide us two for ever.
And could such constant lovers sever;
I dare not trust, lest now they're in,
They should divide us two for ever.
Then, Flavia, come, and let us grieve,
Remembering though upon what score;
This our last parting look believe,
Believe we must embrace no more.
Remembering though upon what score;
This our last parting look believe,
Believe we must embrace no more.
Yet, should our sun shine out at last;
And Fortune, without more deceit,
Throw but one reconciling cast,
To make two wandering lovers meet;
And Fortune, without more deceit,
Throw but one reconciling cast,
To make two wandering lovers meet;
How great then would our pleasure be,
To find Heaven kinder than believ'd;
And we, who had no hopes to see
Each other, to be thus deceiv'd!
To find Heaven kinder than believ'd;
And we, who had no hopes to see
Each other, to be thus deceiv'd!
But say, Heaven should bring no relief,
Suppose our sun should never rise:
Why then what's due to such a grief,
We've paid already with our eyes.
Suppose our sun should never rise:
Why then what's due to such a grief,
We've paid already with our eyes.
III.
[Let perjur'd fair Aminta know]
Let perjur'd fair Aminta know,
What for her sake I undergo;
Tell her, for her how I sustain
A lingering fever's wasting pain;
Tell her, the torments I endure,
Which only, only she can cure.
What for her sake I undergo;
Tell her, for her how I sustain
A lingering fever's wasting pain;
Tell her, the torments I endure,
Which only, only she can cure.
155
But, oh! she scorns to hear, or see,
The wretch that lies so low as me;
Her sudden greatness turns her brain,
And Strephen hopes, alas! in vain:
For ne'er 'twas found (though often try'd)
That pity ever dwelt with pride.
The wretch that lies so low as me;
Her sudden greatness turns her brain,
And Strephen hopes, alas! in vain:
For ne'er 'twas found (though often try'd)
That pity ever dwelt with pride.
IV. TO PHILLIS.
Phillis, since we have both been kind,
And of each other had our fill;
Tell me what pleasure you can find,
In forcing nature 'gainst her will.
And of each other had our fill;
Tell me what pleasure you can find,
In forcing nature 'gainst her will.
'Tis true, you may with art and pain
Keep-in some glowings of desire;
But still those glowings which remain
Are only ashes of the fire.
Keep-in some glowings of desire;
But still those glowings which remain
Are only ashes of the fire.
Then let us free each other's soul,
And laugh at the dull constant fool,
Who would Love's liberty controul,
And teach us how to whine by rule.
And laugh at the dull constant fool,
Who would Love's liberty controul,
And teach us how to whine by rule.
Let us no impositions set,
Or clogs upon each other's heart;
But, as for pleasure first we met,
So now for pleasure let us part.
Or clogs upon each other's heart;
But, as for pleasure first we met,
So now for pleasure let us part.
We both have spent our stock of love,
So consequently should be free;
Thyrsis expects you in yon' grove;
And pretty Chloris stays for me.
So consequently should be free;
Thyrsis expects you in yon' grove;
And pretty Chloris stays for me.
156
V.
[Phillis, this pious talk give o'er]
Phillis, this pious talk give o'er,
And modestly pretend no more;
It is too plain an art:
Surely you take me for a fool,
And would by this prove me so dull,
As not to know your heart.
And modestly pretend no more;
It is too plain an art:
Surely you take me for a fool,
And would by this prove me so dull,
As not to know your heart.
In vain you fancy to deceive,
For truly I can ne'er believe
But this is all a sham;
Since any one may plainly see,
You'd only save yourself with me,
And with another damn.
For truly I can ne'er believe
But this is all a sham;
Since any one may plainly see,
You'd only save yourself with me,
And with another damn.
VI.
[Still, Dorinda, I adore]
Still, Dorinda, I adore;
Think I mean not to deceive ye:
For I lov'd you much before,
And, alas! now love you more,
Though I force myself to leave ye.
Think I mean not to deceive ye:
For I lov'd you much before,
And, alas! now love you more,
Though I force myself to leave ye.
Staying, I my vows shall fail;
Virtue yields, as love grows stronger;
Fierce desires will prevail;
You are fair; and I am frail,
And dare trust myself no longer.
Virtue yields, as love grows stronger;
Fierce desires will prevail;
You are fair; and I am frail,
And dare trust myself no longer.
157
You, my love, too nicely coy,
Lest I should have gain'd the treasure,
Made my vows and oaths destroy
The pleasing hopes I did enjoy
Of all my future peace and pleasure.
Lest I should have gain'd the treasure,
Made my vows and oaths destroy
The pleasing hopes I did enjoy
Of all my future peace and pleasure.
To my vows I have been true,
And in silence hid my anguish,
But I cannot promise too
What my love may make me do,
While with her for whom I languish.
And in silence hid my anguish,
But I cannot promise too
What my love may make me do,
While with her for whom I languish.
For in thee strange magick lies,
And my heart is too, too tender;
Nothing's proof against those eyes,
Best resolves and strictest ties
To their force must soon surrender.
And my heart is too, too tender;
Nothing's proof against those eyes,
Best resolves and strictest ties
To their force must soon surrender.
But, Dorinda, you're severe,
I most doating, thus to sever;
Since from all I hold most dear,
That you may no longer fear,
I divorce myself for ever.
I most doating, thus to sever;
Since from all I hold most dear,
That you may no longer fear,
I divorce myself for ever.
VII.
[Is it, O Love, thy want of eyes]
Is it, O Love, thy want of eyes,
Or by the Fates decreed,
That hearts so seldom sympathize,
Or for each other bleed?
Or by the Fates decreed,
That hearts so seldom sympathize,
Or for each other bleed?
If thou would'st make two youthful hearts
One amorous shaft obey;
'Twould save thee the expence of darts,
And more extend thy sway.
One amorous shaft obey;
'Twould save thee the expence of darts,
And more extend thy sway.
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Forbear, alas! thus to destroy
Thyself, thy growing power;
For that which would be stretch'd by joy,
Despair will soon devour.
Thyself, thy growing power;
For that which would be stretch'd by joy,
Despair will soon devour.
Ah! wound then, my relentless fair,
For thy own sake and mine;
That boundless bliss may be my share,
And double glory thine.
For thy own sake and mine;
That boundless bliss may be my share,
And double glory thine.
VIII. A TWO PART SONG.
[Why, Harry, what ails you? why look you so sad?]
Why, Harry, what ails you? why look you so sad?To think and ne'er drink, will make you stark-mad.
'Tis the mistress, the friend, and the bottle, old boy!
Which create all the pleasure poor mortals enjoy;
But wine of the three's the most cordial brother,
For one it relieves, and it strengthens the other.
IX.
[Morella, charming without art]
Morella, charming without art,
And kind without design,
Can never lose the smallest part
Of such a heart as mine.
And kind without design,
Can never lose the smallest part
Of such a heart as mine.
Oblig'd a thousand several ways,
It ne'er can break her chains;
While passion, which her beauties raise,
My gratitude maintains.
It ne'er can break her chains;
While passion, which her beauties raise,
My gratitude maintains.
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X.
[Since my words, though ne'er so tender]
Since my words, though ne'er so tender,
With sincerest truth exprest,
Cannot make your heart surrender,
Nor so much as warm your breast:
With sincerest truth exprest,
Cannot make your heart surrender,
Nor so much as warm your breast:
What will move the springs of nature?
What will make you think me true?
Tell me, thou mysterious creature,
Tell poor Strephon what will do.
What will make you think me true?
Tell me, thou mysterious creature,
Tell poor Strephon what will do.
Do not, Charmion, rack your lover
Thus, by seeming not to know
What so plainly all discover,
What his eyes so plainly show.
Thus, by seeming not to know
What so plainly all discover,
What his eyes so plainly show.
Fair-one, 'tis yourself deceiving,
'Tis against your Reason's law[s]:
Atheist-like (th' effect deceiving)
Still to disbelieve the cause.
'Tis against your Reason's law[s]:
Atheist-like (th' effect deceiving)
Still to disbelieve the cause.
XI.
[Love! inform thy faithful creature]
Love! inform thy faithful creature
How to keep his fair-one's heart;
Must it be by truth of nature?
Or by poor dissembling art?
How to keep his fair-one's heart;
Must it be by truth of nature?
Or by poor dissembling art?
Tell the secret, shew the wonder,
How we both may gain our ends;
I am lost if we're asunder,
Ever tortur'd if we're friends.
How we both may gain our ends;
I am lost if we're asunder,
Ever tortur'd if we're friends.
160
XII.
[Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu]
Since, Moggy, I mun bid adieu,
How can I help despairing?
Let Fate its Rigour still pursue,
There's nought more worth my caring.
How can I help despairing?
Let Fate its Rigour still pursue,
There's nought more worth my caring.
'Twas she alone could calm my soul,
When racking thoughts did grieve me;
Her eyes my troubles could control,
And into joys deceive me.
When racking thoughts did grieve me;
Her eyes my troubles could control,
And into joys deceive me.
Farewel, ye brooks; no more along
Your banks mun I be walking:
No more you'll hear my pipe or song,
Or pretty Moggy's talking.
Your banks mun I be walking:
No more you'll hear my pipe or song,
Or pretty Moggy's talking.
But I by death an end will give
To grief, since we mun sever:
For who can after parting live,
Ought to be wretched ever.
To grief, since we mun sever:
For who can after parting live,
Ought to be wretched ever.
XIII.
[Once I was unconfin'd and free]
Once I was unconfin'd and free,
Would I had been so still!
Enjoying sweetest liberty,
And roving at my will.
Would I had been so still!
Enjoying sweetest liberty,
And roving at my will.
But now, not master of my heart,
Cupid does so decide,
That two she-tyrants shall it part,
And so poor me divide.
Cupid does so decide,
That two she-tyrants shall it part,
And so poor me divide.
Victoria's will I must obey,
She acts without controul:
Phillis has such a taking way,
She charms my very soul.
She acts without controul:
Phillis has such a taking way,
She charms my very soul.
161
Deceiv'd by Phillis' looks and smiles,
Into her snares I run:
Victoria shews me all her wiles,
Which yet I dare not shun.
Into her snares I run:
Victoria shews me all her wiles,
Which yet I dare not shun.
From one I fancy every kiss
Has something in 't divine;
And, awful, taste the balmy bliss,
That joins her lips with mine.
Has something in 't divine;
And, awful, taste the balmy bliss,
That joins her lips with mine.
But, when with t'other I embrace,
Though she be not a queen,
Methinks 'tis sweet with such a lass
To tumble on the green.
Though she be not a queen,
Methinks 'tis sweet with such a lass
To tumble on the green.
Thus here you see a shared heart,
But I, mean while, the fool:
Each in it has an equal part,
But neither yet the whole.
But I, mean while, the fool:
Each in it has an equal part,
But neither yet the whole.
Nor will it, if I right forecast,
To either wholly yield:
I find the time approaches fast,
When both must quit the field.
To either wholly yield:
I find the time approaches fast,
When both must quit the field.
XIV.
[Some kind angel, gently flying]
Some kind angel, gently flying,
Mov'd with pity at my pain,
Tell Corinna, I am dying,
Till with joy we meet again.
Mov'd with pity at my pain,
Tell Corinna, I am dying,
Till with joy we meet again.
Tell Corinna, since we parted,
I have never known delight:
And shall soon be broken-hearted,
If I longer want her sight.
I have never known delight:
And shall soon be broken-hearted,
If I longer want her sight.
Tell her how her lover, mourning,
Thinks each lazy day a year;
Cursing every morn returning,
Since Corinna is not here.
Thinks each lazy day a year;
Cursing every morn returning,
Since Corinna is not here.
162
Tell her too, not distant places,
Will she be but true and kind,
Join'd with time and change of faces,
E'er shall shake my constant mind.
Will she be but true and kind,
Join'd with time and change of faces,
E'er shall shake my constant mind.
XV.
[Farewel, Amynta, we must part]
Farewel, Amynta, we must part;
The charm has lost its power,
Which held so fast my captiv'd heart
Until this fatal hour.
The charm has lost its power,
Which held so fast my captiv'd heart
Until this fatal hour.
Hadst thou not thus my love abus'd,
And us'd me ne'er so ill,
Thy cruelty I had excus'd,
And I had lov'd thee still.
And us'd me ne'er so ill,
Thy cruelty I had excus'd,
And I had lov'd thee still.
But know, my soul disdains thy sway,
And scorns thy charms and thee,
To which each fluttering coxcomb may
As welcome be as me.
And scorns thy charms and thee,
To which each fluttering coxcomb may
As welcome be as me.
Think in what perfect bliss you reign'd,
How lov'd before thy fall;
And now, alas! how much disdain'd
By me, and scorn'd by all.
How lov'd before thy fall;
And now, alas! how much disdain'd
By me, and scorn'd by all.
Yet thinking of each happy hour,
Which I with thee have spent,
So robs my rage of all its power,
That I almost relent.
Which I with thee have spent,
So robs my rage of all its power,
That I almost relent.
But pride will never let me bow,
No more thy charms can move:
Yet thou art worth my pity now,
Because thou hadst my love.
No more thy charms can move:
Yet thou art worth my pity now,
Because thou hadst my love.
163
XVI. LES ESTREINES.
Accept, my love, as true a heart
As ever lover gave:
'Tis free (it vows) from any art,
And proud to be your slave.
As ever lover gave:
'Tis free (it vows) from any art,
And proud to be your slave.
Then take it kindly, as 'twas meant,
And let the giver live:
Who, with it, would the world have sent,
Had it been his to give.
And let the giver live:
Who, with it, would the world have sent,
Had it been his to give.
And, that Dorinda may not fear
I e'er will prove untrue,
My vows shall, ending with the year,
With it begin anew.
I e'er will prove untrue,
My vows shall, ending with the year,
With it begin anew.
New Years day 1700/1.
XVII.
[Nanny blushes when I woo her]
Nanny blushes when I woo her,
And, with kindly-chiding eyes,
Faintly says, I shall undo her,
Faintly, O forbear! she cries.
And, with kindly-chiding eyes,
Faintly says, I shall undo her,
Faintly, O forbear! she cries.
But her breasts while I am pressing,
While to her's my lips I join,
Warm'd she seems to taste the blessing,
And her kisses answer mine.
While to her's my lips I join,
Warm'd she seems to taste the blessing,
And her kisses answer mine.
Undebauch'd by rules of honour,
Innocence with nature charms;
One bids, gently push me from her,
T'other, take me in her arms.
Innocence with nature charms;
One bids, gently push me from her,
T'other, take me in her arms.
164
XVIII.
[Since we your husband daily see]
Since we your husband daily see
So jealous out of season,
Phillis, let you and I agree
To make him so with reason.
So jealous out of season,
Phillis, let you and I agree
To make him so with reason.
I'm vext to think, that every night
A sot, within thy arms,
Tasting the most divine delight,
Should sully all your charms.
A sot, within thy arms,
Tasting the most divine delight,
Should sully all your charms.
While fretting I must lie alone,
Cursing the powers divine,
That undeservedly have thrown
A pearl unto a swine.
Cursing the powers divine,
That undeservedly have thrown
A pearl unto a swine.
Then, Phillis, heal my wounded heart,
My burning passion cool;
Let me at least in thee have part
With thy insipid fool.
My burning passion cool;
Let me at least in thee have part
With thy insipid fool.
Let him, by night, his Joys pursue,
And blunder in the dark;
While I, by day, enjoying you,
Can see to hit the mark.
And blunder in the dark;
While I, by day, enjoying you,
Can see to hit the mark.
XIX. ADVICE TO A LADY.
Phillis, give this humour over,
We too long have time abus'd;
I shall turn an errant rover,
If the favour's still refus'd.
We too long have time abus'd;
I shall turn an errant rover,
If the favour's still refus'd.
165
Faith! 'tis nonsense out of measure,
Without ending thus to see
Women forc'd to taste a pleasure
Which they love as well as we.
Without ending thus to see
Women forc'd to taste a pleasure
Which they love as well as we.
Let not pride and folly share you,
We were made but to enjoy;
Ne'er will age or censure spare you,
E'er the more for being coy.
We were made but to enjoy;
Ne'er will age or censure spare you,
E'er the more for being coy.
Never fancy Time's before you,
Youth, believe me, will away;
Then, alas! who will adore you,
Or to wrinkles tribute pay?
Youth, believe me, will away;
Then, alas! who will adore you,
Or to wrinkles tribute pay?
All the swains on you attending
Show how much your charms deserve;
But, miser-like, for fear of spending,
You amidst your plenty starve.
Show how much your charms deserve;
But, miser-like, for fear of spending,
You amidst your plenty starve.
While a thousand freer lasses,
Who their youth and charms employ,
Though your beauty their's surpasses,
Live in far more perfect joy.
Who their youth and charms employ,
Though your beauty their's surpasses,
Live in far more perfect joy.
XX.
[Since by ill fate I'm forc'd away]
Since by ill fate I'm forc'd away,
And snatch'd so soon from those dear arms;
Against my will I must obey,
And leave those sweet endearing charms.
And snatch'd so soon from those dear arms;
Against my will I must obey,
And leave those sweet endearing charms.
Yet still love on; and never fear,
But you and constancy will prove
Enough my present flame to bear,
And make me, though in absence, love.
But you and constancy will prove
Enough my present flame to bear,
And make me, though in absence, love.
For, though your presence fate denies,
I feel, alas! the killing smart;
And can with undiscerned eyes,
Behold your picture in my heart.
I feel, alas! the killing smart;
And can with undiscerned eyes,
Behold your picture in my heart.
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XXI.
[Touch the lyre, on every string]
Touch the lyre, on every string,Touch it, Orpheus, I will sing,
A song which shall immortal be;
Since she I sing 's a deity:
A Leonora, whose blest birth
Has no relation to this earth.
XXII.
[In vain, alas! poor Strephon tries]
In vain, alas! poor Strephon tries
To ease his tortur'd breast;
Since Amoret the cure denies,
And makes his pain a jest.
To ease his tortur'd breast;
Since Amoret the cure denies,
And makes his pain a jest.
Ah! fair-one, why to me so coy?
And why to him so true,
Who with more coldness slights the joy,
Than I with love pursue?
And why to him so true,
Who with more coldness slights the joy,
Than I with love pursue?
Die then, unhappy lover! die;
For, since she gives thee death,
The world has nothing that can buy
A minute more of breath.
For, since she gives thee death,
The world has nothing that can buy
A minute more of breath.
Yet, though I could your scorn outlive,
'Twere folly; since to me
Not love itself a joy can give,
But, Amoret, in thee.
'Twere folly; since to me
Not love itself a joy can give,
But, Amoret, in thee.
167
XXIII.
[Well! I will never more complain]
Well! I will never more complain,
Or call the Fates unkind;
Alas! how fond it is, how vain!
But self-conceitedness does reign
In every mortal mind.
Or call the Fates unkind;
Alas! how fond it is, how vain!
But self-conceitedness does reign
In every mortal mind.
'Tis true they long did me deny,
Nor would permit a sight;
I rag'd; for I could not espy,
Or think that any harm could lie
Disguis'd in that delight.
Nor would permit a sight;
I rag'd; for I could not espy,
Or think that any harm could lie
Disguis'd in that delight.
At last, my wishes to fulfil,
They did their power resign;
I saw her; but I wish I still
Had been obedient to their will,
And they not unto mine.
They did their power resign;
I saw her; but I wish I still
Had been obedient to their will,
And they not unto mine.
Yet I by this have learnt the wit,
Never to grieve or fret:
Contentedly I will submit,
And think that best which they think fit,
Without the least regret.
Never to grieve or fret:
Contentedly I will submit,
And think that best which they think fit,
Without the least regret.
XXIV.
[Chloe beauty has and wit]
Chloe beauty has and wit,
And an air that is not common;
Every charm does in her meet,
Fit to make a handsome woman.
And an air that is not common;
Every charm does in her meet,
Fit to make a handsome woman.
But we do not only find
Here a lovely face or feature;
For she's merciful and kind,
Beauty's answer'd by good-nature.
Here a lovely face or feature;
For she's merciful and kind,
Beauty's answer'd by good-nature.
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She is always doing good,
Of her favours never sparing,
And, as all good Christians should,
Keeps poor mortals from despairing.
Of her favours never sparing,
And, as all good Christians should,
Keeps poor mortals from despairing.
Jove the power knew of her charms,
And that no man could endure 'em,
So, providing 'gainst all harms,
Gave to her the power to cure 'em.
And that no man could endure 'em,
So, providing 'gainst all harms,
Gave to her the power to cure 'em.
And 'twould be a cruel thing,
When her black eyes have rais'd desire,
Should she not her bucket bring,
And kindly help to quench the fire.
When her black eyes have rais'd desire,
Should she not her bucket bring,
And kindly help to quench the fire.
TO THE REV. DR. FRANCIS TURNER, BISHOP OF ELY WHO HAD ADVISED A TRANSLATION OF PRUDENTIUS.
If poets, ere they cloath'd their infant thought,
And the rude work to just perfection brought,
Did still some god, or godlike man invoke,
Whose mighty name their sacred silence broke:
Your goodness, Sir, will easily excuse,
The bold requests of an aspiring Muse;
Who, with your blessing would your aid implore,
And in her weakness justify your power.—
From your fair pattern she would strive to write,
And with unequal strength pursue your flight;
Yet hopes, she ne'er can err that follows you,
Led by your blest commands, and great example too.
And the rude work to just perfection brought,
Did still some god, or godlike man invoke,
Whose mighty name their sacred silence broke:
Your goodness, Sir, will easily excuse,
The bold requests of an aspiring Muse;
Who, with your blessing would your aid implore,
And in her weakness justify your power.—
From your fair pattern she would strive to write,
And with unequal strength pursue your flight;
Yet hopes, she ne'er can err that follows you,
Led by your blest commands, and great example too.
Then smiling and aspiring influence give,
And make the Muse and her endeavours live;
Claim all her future labours as your due,
Let every song begin and end with you:
So to the blest retreat she'll gladly go,
Where the Saints' palm and Muses' laurel grow;
Where kindly both in glad embrace shall join,
And round your brow their mingled honours twine;
Both to the virtue due, which could excel,
As much in writing, as in living well.—
So shall she proudly press the tuneful string,
And mighty things in mighty numbers sing;
Nor doubt to strike Prudentius' daring lyre,
And humbly bring the verse which you inspire.
And make the Muse and her endeavours live;
Claim all her future labours as your due,
Let every song begin and end with you:
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Where the Saints' palm and Muses' laurel grow;
Where kindly both in glad embrace shall join,
And round your brow their mingled honours twine;
Both to the virtue due, which could excel,
As much in writing, as in living well.—
So shall she proudly press the tuneful string,
And mighty things in mighty numbers sing;
Nor doubt to strike Prudentius' daring lyre,
And humbly bring the verse which you inspire.
A PASTORAL.
TO DR. TURNER, BISHOP of ELY; ON HIS DEPARTURE FROM CAMBRIDGE.
DAMON.Tell, dear Alexis, tell thy Damon, why
Dost thou in mournful shades obscurely lie?
Why dost thou sigh, why strike thy panting breast?
And steal from life the needful hours of rest?
Are thy kids starv'd by winter's early frost?
Are any of thy bleating stragglers lost?
Have strangers' cattle trod thy new-plough'd ground?
Has great Joanna, or her greater shepherd frown'd.
ALEXIS.
See my kids browze, my lambs securely play:
(Ah! were their master unconcern'd as they!)
No beasts (at noon I look'd) had trod my ground;
Nor has Joanna, or her shepherd, frown'd.
DAMON.
Then stop the lavish fountain of your eyes,
Nor let those sighs from your swoln bosom rise;
Chase sadness, friend, and solitude away;
And once again rejoice, and once again look gay.
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Say what can more our tortur'd souls annoy,
Than to behold, admire, and lose our joy;
Whose fate more hard than those who sadly run,
For the last glimpse of the departing sun?
Or what severer sentence can be given,
Than, having seen, to be excluded Heaven?
DAMON.
None; shepherd, none—
ALEXIS.
Then cease to chide my cares!
And rather pity than restrain my tears;
Those tears, my Damon, which I justly shed,
To think how great my joys; how soon they fled;
I told thee, friend, (now bless the shepherd's name,
From whose dear care the kind occasion came,)
That I, even I, might happily receive
The sacred wealth, which Heaven and Daphnis give:
That I might see the lovely awful swain,
Whose holy crosier guides our willing plain;
Whose pleasing power and ruling goodness keep
Our souls with equal care as we our sheep;
Whose praise excites each lyre, employs each tongue:
Whilst only he who caus'd, dislikes the song.
To this great, humble, parting man I gain'd
Access, and happy for an hour I reign'd;
Happy as new-form'd man in paradise,
Ere sin debauch'd his inoffensive bliss;
Happy as heroes after battles won,
Prophets entranc'd, or monarchs on the throne;
But (oh, my friend!) those joys with Daphnis flew:
To them these tributary tears are due.
DAMON.
Was he so humble then? those joys so vast?
Cease to admire that both so quickly past.
Too happy should we be, would smiling fate
Render one blessing durable and great;
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Unwelcome night succeeds the chearful noon;
And rigid winter nips the flowery pomp of June!
Then grieve not, friend, like you, since all mankind
A certain change of joy and sorrow find.
Suppress your sigh, your down-cast eyelids raise,
Whom present you revere, him absent praise.
THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE.
I sent for Ratcliffe; was so ill,
That other doctors gave me over:
He felt my pulse, prescrib'd his pill,
And I was likely to recover.
That other doctors gave me over:
He felt my pulse, prescrib'd his pill,
And I was likely to recover.
But, when the wit began to wheeze,
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,
I dy'd last night of my physician.
And wine had warm'd the politician,
Cur'd yesterday of my disease,
I dy'd last night of my physician.
EPIGRAM, EXTEMPORE.
I stood, Sir, patient at your feet,
Before your elbow-chair;
But make a bishop's throne your seat,
I'll kneel before you there.
Before your elbow-chair;
But make a bishop's throne your seat,
I'll kneel before you there.
One only thing can keep you down,
For your great soul too mean;
You 'd not, to mount a bishop's throne,
Pay homage to the Queen.
For your great soul too mean;
You 'd not, to mount a bishop's throne,
Pay homage to the Queen.
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EPIGRAM ON BISHOP ATTERBURY.
Meek Francis lies here, friend: without stop or stay,As you value your peace, make the best of your way.
Though at present arrested by Death's caitiff paw,
If he stirs, he may still have recourse to the law.
And in the King's-bench should a verdict be found,
That by livery and seisin his grave is his ground,
He will claim to himself what is strictly his due,
And an action of trespass will straightway ensue,
That you without right on his premises tread,
On a simple surmise that the owner is dead.
ON BISHOP ATTE[R]BURY'S BURYING THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, MDCCXX.
“I have no hopes,” the Duke he says, and dies;“In sure and certain hopes,” the Prelate cries:
Of these two learned Peers, I pr'ythee, say, man,
Who is the lying Knave, the Priest or Layman?
The Duke he stands an infidel confest,
“He's our dear brother,” quoth the lordly priest.
The Duke though Knave, still “Brother dear,” he cries;
And who can say, the Reverend Prelate lies?
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LINES WRITTEN UNDER THE PRINT OF TOM BRITTON, the Small-coal-man, PAINTED BY Mr. WOOLASTON.
Though doom'd to small-coal, yet to arts ally'd,Rich without wealth, and famous without pride;
Musick's best patron, judge of books and men,
Belov'd and honour'd by Apollo's train:
In Greece or Rome sure never did appear
So bright a genius, in so dark a sphere:
More of the man had artfully been sav'd,
Had Kneller painted, and had Vertue grav'd.
WRITTEN IN LADY HOWE'S OVID'S EPISTLES.
However high, however cold, the fair,However great the dying lover's care,
Ovid, kind author, found him some relief,
Rang'd his unruly sighs, and set his grief;
Taught him what accents had the power to move,
And always gain'd him pity, sometimes love.
But, oh! what pangs torment the destin'd heart,
That feels the wound, yet dares not shew the dart!
What care could Ovid to his sorrows give,
Who must not speak, and therefore cannot live!
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AN EPISTLE, MDCCXVI.
I Pray, good Lady Harley, let Jonathan know,How long you intend to live incognito.
Your humble servant,
Elkanah Settle.
ANOTHER EPISTLE.
I Pray, Lady Harriot, the time to assignWhen she shall receive a turkey and chine;
That a body may come to St. James's, to dine.
TRUE'S EPITAPH.
If wit or honesty could save
Our mouldering ashes from the grave,
This stone had still remain'd unmark'd,
I still writ prose, True still have bark'd.
But envious Fate has claim'd its due,
Here lies the mortal part of True;
His deathless virtues must survive,
To better us that are alive.
Our mouldering ashes from the grave,
This stone had still remain'd unmark'd,
I still writ prose, True still have bark'd.
But envious Fate has claim'd its due,
Here lies the mortal part of True;
His deathless virtues must survive,
To better us that are alive.
His prudence and his wit were seen
In that, from Mary's grace and mien,
He own'd the power, and lov'd the Queen.
By long obedience he confest
That serving her was to be blest.—
Ye murmurers, let True evince
That men are beasts, and dogs have sense!
In that, from Mary's grace and mien,
He own'd the power, and lov'd the Queen.
By long obedience he confest
That serving her was to be blest.—
Ye murmurers, let True evince
That men are beasts, and dogs have sense!
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His faith and truth all Whitehall knows,
He ne'er could fawn or flatter those
Whom he believ'd were Mary's foes:
Ne'er skulk'd from whence his sovereign led him,
Or snarl'd against the hand that fed him.—
Read this, ye statesmen now in favour,
And mend your own, by True's behaviour!
He ne'er could fawn or flatter those
Whom he believ'd were Mary's foes:
Ne'er skulk'd from whence his sovereign led him,
Or snarl'd against the hand that fed him.—
Read this, ye statesmen now in favour,
And mend your own, by True's behaviour!
EPIGRAM.
To Richmond and Peterburgh, Matt gave his letters,And thought they were safe in the hands of his betters.
How happen'd it then that the packets were lost?
These were Knights of the Garter, not Knights of the Post.
UPON Playing at OMBRE, WITH TWO LADIES.
I know that Fortune long has wanted sight,And therefore pardon'd, when She did not right;
But yet till then it never did appear,
That as She wanted Eyes, She could not Hear.
I begg'd, that She would give me leave to lose,
A thing She does not commonly refuse:
Two Matadores are out against my game,
Yet still I play, and still my Luck's the same:
Unconquer'd in Three suits it does remain;
Whereas I only ask in One to gain;
Yet She still contradicting, Gifts imparts;
And gives success in ev'ry suit—but Hearts.
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ON MY BIRTH-DAY.
I.
I my dear, was born to day,So all my jolly comrades say;
They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know
That I was born to pain and wo;
To thy denial, to thy scorn,
Better I had ne'er been born,
I wish to die ev'n whilst I say,
I, my dear, was born to day.
II.
I, my dear, was born to day,Shall I salute the rising ray?
Wellspring of all my joy and woe,
Clotilda, thou alone dost know.
Shall the wreath surround my hair?
Or shall the music please my ear?
Shall I my comrades mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me see great Venus chace
Imperious anger from Thy face;
Then let me hear Thee smiling say,
Thou, my dear, wer't Born to Day.
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