The Genuine Works in Verse and Prose, Of the Right Honourable George Granville, Lord Lansdowne

The God of Day descending from above,
Mixt with the Sea, and got the Queen of Love.
Beauty, that fires the World, 'twas fit should rise
From him alone who lights the Stars and Skies.
In Cyprus long, by Men and Gods obey'd,
The Lover's Toil she gratefully repaid,
Promiscuous Blessings to her Slaves assign'd,
And taught the World that Beauty should be kind.
Learn by this Pattern, all ye Fair, to charm,
Bright be your Beams, but without scorching warm.

Helen was next from Greece to Phrygia brought,
With much Expence of Blood and Empire sought:
Beauty and Love the noblest Cause afford,
That can try Valour, or employ the Sword.
Not Men alone incited by her Charms,
But Heav'n's concern'd, and all the Gods take Arms.

The happy Trojan gloriously possest,
Enjoys the Dame, and leaves to Fate the rest.
Your cold Reflections, Moralists, forbear,
His Title's best who best can please the Fair.
And now the Gods, in pity to the Cares,
The fierce Desires, Distractions, and Despairs
Of tortur'd Men, while Beauty was confin'd,
Resolv'd to multiply the charming Kind.
Greece was the Land where this bright Race begun,
And saw a thousand Rivals to the Sun.
Hence follow'd Arts, while each employ'd his Care
In new Productions to delight the Fair:
To bright Aspasia Socrates retir'd,
His Wisdom grew but as his Love inspir'd;
Those Rocks and Oaks which such Emotions felt,
Were cruel Maids whom Orpheus taught to melt;
Musick, and Songs, and every way to move
The ravish'd Heart, were Seeds and Plants of Love.

The Gods, entic'd by so divine a Birth,
Descend from Heav'n to this new Heav'n on Earth;
Thy Wit, O Mercury's no Defence from Love;
Nor Mars, thy Target; nor thy Thunder, Jove.
The mad Immortals in a thousand Shapes,
Range the wide Globe; some yield, some suffer Rapes,
Invaded, or deceiv'd, not one escapes

The Wife, tho' a bright Goddess, thus gives place
To mortal Concubines of fresh Embrace;
By such Examples were we taught to see
The Life and Soul of Love, is sweet Variety.

In those first Times, 'ere charming Womankind
Reform'd their Pleasures, polishing the Mind,
Rude were their Revels, and obscene their Joys,
The Broils of Drunkards, and the Lust of Boys;
Phoebus laments for Hyacinthus dead,
And Juno jealous, storms at Ganymed.
Return, my Muse, and close that odious Scene,
Nor stain thy Verse with Images unclean;
Of Beauty sing, her shining Progress view,
From Clime to Clime the dazling Light pursue,
Tell how the Goddess spread, and how in Empire grew.

Let others govern, or defend the State,
Plead at the Bar, or manage a Debate,
In lofty Arts and Sciences excel,
Or in proud Domes employ their boasted Skill,
To Marble, and to Brass such Features give,
The Metal and the Stone may seem to live;
Describe the Stars, and Planetary Way,
And trace the Footsteps of eternal Day:
Be this, my Muse, thy Pleasure and thy Care,
A Slave to Beauty, to record the Fair.

Still wand'ring in Love's sweet delicious Maze,
To sing the Triumphs of some heavenly Face,
Of lovely Dames, who with a Smile or Frown
Subdue the proud, the suppliant Lover crown.
From Venus down to Mira bring thy Song,
To thee alone such tender Tasks belong.

From Greece to Africk Beauty takes her Flight,
And ripens with her near Approach to Light:
Frown not, ye Fair, to hear of swarthy Dames,
With radiant Eyes, that take unerring Aims;
Beauty to no Complexion is confin'd,
Is of all Colours, and by none defin'd;
Jewels that shine, in Gold or Silver set,
As precious and as sparkling are in Jet.
Here Cleopatra, with a lib'ral Heart,
Bounteous of Love, improv'd the Joy with Art,
The first who gave recruited Slaves to know
That the rich Pearl was of more Use than Show,
Who with high Meats, or a luxurious Draught,
Kept Love for ever flowing, and full fraught.
Julius and Anthony, those Lords of all,
Each in his turn present the conquer'd Ball;
Those dreadful Eagles that had fac'd the Light
From Pole to Pole, fall dazl'd at her Sight:
Nor was her Death less glorious than her Life,
A constant Mistress, and a faithful Wife;

Her dying Truth some generous Tears would cost,
Had not her Fate inspir'd the World well lost;
With secret Pride the ravish'd Muses view
The Image of that Death which Dryden drew.

Pleas'd in such happy Climates, warm and bright,
Love for some Ages revel'd with Delight;
The martial Moors in Gallantry refin'd,
Invent new Arts to make their Charmers kind;
See in the Lists, by golden Barriers bound,
In warlike Ranks they wait the Trumpet's Sound;
Some Love-Device is wrought on every Sword,
And every Ribbon bears some mystick Word.
As when we see the winged Winds engage,
Mounted on Coursers, foaming Flame and Rage,
Rustling from every Quarter of the Sky,
North, East, and West, in airy Swiftness vie;
One Cloud repuls'd, new Combatants prepare
To meet as fierce, and form a thund'ring War:
So when the Trumpet sounding, gives the Sign,
The justling Chiefs in rude Rencounter join,
So meet, and so renew the dext'rous Fight,
Each fair Beholder trembling for her Knight;

Still as one falls, another rushes in,
And all must be o'ercome, or none can win.
The Victor, from the shining Dame, whose Eyes
Aided his conqu'ring Arm, receives a precious Prize.

Thus flourish'd Love, and Beauty reign'd in State,
Till the proud Spaniard gave these Glories Date:
Past is the Gallantry, the Fame remains,
Transmitted safe in Dryden's lofty Scenes;
Granada lost, beheld her Pomps restor'd,
And Almahide, once more by Kings ador'd.

Love driven thence, to colder Britain flies,
And with bright Nymphs the distant Sun supplies;
Romances which relate the dreadful Fights,
The Loves and Prowess of advent'rous Knights;
To animate their Rage, a Kiss record
From Britain's fairest Nymph was the Reward;
Thus ancient to Love's Empire was the Claim
Of British Beauty, and so wide the Fame,
Which, like our Flag upon the Seas, gives Law
By Right avow'd, and keeps the World in awe.

Our gallant Kings, of whom large Annals prove
The mighty Deeds, stand as renown'd for Love;

A Monarch's Right o'er Beauty they may claim,
Lords of that Ocean from whence Beauty came.
Thy Rosamond, Great Henry, on the Stage,
By a late Muse presented in our Age,
With aking Hearts, and flowing Eyes we view,
While that dissembled Death presents the true
In Bracegirdle, the Persons so agree,
That all seems real the Spectators see.

Of Scots and Gauls defeated, and their Kings,
Thy Captives, Edward, Fame for ever sings;
Like thy high Deeds, thy noble Loves are prais'd,
Who hast to Love the noblest Trophy rais'd:
Thy Statues, Venus, tho' by Phidias's Hand,
Design'd immortal, yet no longer stand;
The Magick of thy shining Zone is past,
But Salisbury's Garter shall for ever last,
Which thro' the World by living Monarchs worn,
Adds Grace to Scepters, and does Crowns adorn.

If such their Fame who gave these Rights divine
To sacred Love, O! what dishonour's thine,
Forgetful Queen, who sever'd that bright Head
Which charm'd two mighty Monarchs to her Bed?

Had'st thou been born a Man, thou had'st not err'd,
Thy Fame had liv'd, and Beauty been preferr'd;
But O! what mighty Magick can assuage
A Woman's Envy and a Bigot's Rage?

Love tir'd at length, Love, that delights to smile,
Flying from Scenes of Horror, quits our Isle,
With Charles, the Cupids and the Graces gone,
In Exile live, for Love and Charles were one;
With Charles he wanders, and for Charles he mourns,
But O! how fierce the Joy when Charles returns!
As eager Flames with opposition pent,
Break out impetuous when they find a Vent;
As a fierce Torrent bounded on his Race,
Forcing his way, rolls with redoubled Pace:
From the loud Palace to the silent Grove,
All, by the King's Example, live and love;
The Muses with diviner Voices sing;
And all rejoice to please the God-like King.

Then Waller in immortal Verse proclaims
The shining Court, and all the glittering Dames;
Thy Beauty, Sidney, like Achilles' Sword,
Resistless, stands upon as sure Record;

The fiercest Hero, and the brightest Dame,
Both sung alike, shall have their Fate the same.

And now, my Muse, a nobler Flight prepare,
And sing so loud that Heaven and Earth may hear
Behold from Italy an awful Ray
Of heav'nly Light illuminates the Day,
Northward she bends, majestically bright,
And here she fixes her Imperial Light.
Be bold, be bold, my Muse, nor fear to raise
Thy Voice to her who was thy earliest Praise;
What tho' the sullen Fates refuse to shine,
Or frown severe on thy audacious Line,
Keep thy bright Theme within thy steady Sight,
The Clouds shall fly before the dazling Light,
And everlasting Day direct thy lofty Flight.
Thou who has never yet put on Disguise
To flatter Faction, or descend to Vice;
Let no vain Fear thy generous Ardor tame,
But stand erect, and sound as loud as Fame.

As when our Eyes some Prospect would pursue,
Descending from a Hill, looks round to view,
Passes o'er Lawns and Meadows till it gains
Some fav'rite Spot, and fixing there, remains:
With equal Rapture my transported Muse
Flies other Objects, this bright Theme to choose.

Queen of our Hearts, and Charmer of our Sight,
A Monarch's Pride, his Glory and Delight,
Princess ador'd and lov'd! If Verse can give
A deathless Name, thine shall for ever live;
Invok'd where'er the British Lion roars,
Extended as the Seas that gird the British Shores.
The wise Immortals in their Seats above,
To crown their Labours, still appointed Love;
Phoebus enjoy'd the Goddess of the Sea,
Alcides had Omphale, James has Thee.
O happy James! content thy mighty Mind,
Grudge not the World, for still thy Queen is kind,
To lie but at whose Feet more Glory brings
Than 'tis to tread on Scepters, and on Kings:
Secure of Empire in that beauteous Breast,
Who would not give their Crowns to be so blest?
Was Helen half so fair, so form'd for Joy,
Well chose the Trojan, and well burnt was Troy.
But ah! what strange Vicissitudes of Fate,
What Chance attends on ev'ry worldly State?
As when the Skies were sack'd, the conquer'd Gods
Compell'd from Heav'n, forsook their blest Abodes;
Wand'ring in Woods, they hid from Den to Den,
And sought their Safety in the Shapes of Men.
As when the Winds with kindling Flames conspire,
The Blaze encreases, as they fan the Fire;

From Roof to Roof the burning Torrent pours,
Nor spares the Palace, nor the loftiest Tow'rs:
Or, as the stately Pine, erecting high
Her lofty Branches, shooting to the Sky,
If riven by the Thunderbolt of Jove,
Down falls at once the Pride of all the Grove,
Level with lowest Shrubs lies the tall Head
That rear'd aloft, as to the Clouds was spread.
So ------
But cease, my Muse, thy Colours are too faint,
Hide with a Veil those Griefs which none can paint;
This Sun is set.—But see in bright Array
What Hosts of heavenly Light recruit the Day.
Love, in a shining Galaxy, appears
Triumphant still, and Grafton leads the Stars.
Ten thousand Loves, ten thousand several ways
Invade adoring Crowds, who die to gaze;
Her Eyes resistless as the Sirens Voice,
So sweet's the Charm, we make our Fate our Choice.
Who most resembles her let next be nam'd,
Villiers for Wisdom and deep Judgment fam'd,
Of a high Race, victorious Beauty brings
To grace our Courts, and captivate our Kings.

With what Delight my Muse to Sandwich flies!
Whose Wit is piercing as her sparkling Eyes:
Ah! how she mounts, and spreads her airy Wings,
And tunes her Voice, when she of Ormond sings!
Of radiant Ormond, only fit to be
The Successor of beauteous Ossory.

Richmond's a Title, that but nam'd, implies
Majestick Graces, and victorious Eyes;
Fair Villiers first, then haughty Stuart came,
And Brudenal now no less adorns the Name.
Dorset already is immortal made
In Prior's Verse, nor needs a second Aid.

By Bentinck and fair Rutenberg we find,
That Beauty to no Climate is confin'd.

Rupert of Royal Blood, with modest Grace,
Blushes to hear the Triumphs of her Face.

Not Helen with St. Alban's might compare:
Nor let the Muse omit Scroop, Holms, and Hare;
Hyde, Venus is; the Graces are Kildare.

Soft and delicious as a Southern Sky,
Are Dashwood's Smiles; when Darnley frowns we die.
Careless, but yet secure of Conquest still,
Lu'son unaiming, never fails to kill;

Guiltless of Pride to captivate, or shine,
Bright without Art, she wounds without Design:
But Wyndham like a Tyrant throws the Dart,
And takes a cruel Pleasure in the Smart,
Proud of the Ravage that her Beauties make,
Delights in Wounds, and kills for killing sake;
Asserting the Dominion of her Eyes,
As Heroes fight for Glory, not for Prize.

The skilful Muses earliest Care has been
The Praise of never-fading Mazarine;
The Poet and his Theme, in spight of Time,
For ever young, enjoy an endless Prime.
With Charms so num'rous Mira does surprize,
The Lover knows not by which Dart he dies;
So thick the Volley, and the Wound so sure,
No Flight can save, no Remedy can cure.

Yet dawning in her Infancy of Light,
O see! another Brudenel heav'nly bright,
Born to fulfil the Glories of her Line,
And fix Love's Empire in that Race Divine.

Fain wou'd my Muse to Cecil bend her Sight,
But turns astonish'd from the dazzling Light,
Nor dares attempt to climb the steepy Flight.

O Kneller! like thy Pictures were my Song,
Clear like thy Paint, and like thy Pencil strong;
These matchless Beauties should recorded be,
Immortal in my Verse, as in thy Gallery.

All for Love; or, The World well lost; written by Mr. Dryden.

The Conquest of Granada; written by Mr. Dryden.

The Part of Almahide, perform'd by Mrs. Eleanor Gwin, Mistress to King Charles II.

A famous Actress.

Mary Queen of Scots, beheaded by Queen Elizabeth.

The Rebellion; And Death of King Charles I.

The Lady Dorothy Sidney, celebrated by Mr. Waller under the Name of Sacharissa.

Countess of Orkney.

Lady Catherine Darnley, Dutchess of Buckingham.

Lady Gower.

Monsieur St. Evremont.

Lady Molyneux.

Lady Ranelaugh.

The Gallery of Beauties in Hampton-Court, drawn by Sir Godfrey Kneller.

University of Virginia Library

THE PROGRESS of BEAUTY.