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A47363
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Poems by Mrs. Anne Killigrew.
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Killigrew, Anne, 1660-1685.; Dryden, John, 1631-1700. To the pious memory of the accomplisht young lady Mrs. Anne Killigrew.
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1686
(1686)
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Wing K442; ESTC R6393
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30,848
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122
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Seas to seek his absent Sire Such bitter Sighs her tender Breast did rend But had she known a God did him attend And would with Glory bring him safe again Bright Thoughts would then have dispossess't her Pain Ah Noblest Lady You that her excel In every Vertue may in Prudence well Suspend your Care knowing what power befriends Your Hopes and what on Vertue still attends In bloody Conflicts he will Armour find In strongest Tempests he will rule the Wind He will through Thousand Dangers force a way And still Triumphant will his Charge convey And the All-ruling power that can act thus Will safe return your Dear Telemachus Alas he was not born to live in Peace Souls of his Temper were not made for Ease Th' Ignoble only live secure from Harms The Generous tempt and seek out fierce Alarms Huge Labours were for Hercules design'd Jason to fetch the Golden Fleece enjoyn'd The Minotaure by Noble Theseus dy'd In vain were Valour if it were not try'd Should the admir'd and far-sought Diamond lye As in its Bed unpolisht to the Eye It would be slighted like a common stone It 's Value would be small its Glory none But when 't has pass'd the Wheel and Cutters hand Then it is meet in Monarchs Crowns to stand Upon the Noble Object of your Care Heaven has bestow'd of Worth so large a share That unastonisht none can him behold Or credit all the Wonders of him told When others at his Years were turning o're The Acts of Heroes that had liv'd before Their Valour to excite when time should fit He then did Things were Worthy to be writ Stayd not for Time his Courage that out-ran In Actions far before in Years a Man Two French Campagnes he boldly courted Fame While his Face more the Maid than Youth became Adde then to these a Soul so truly Mild Though more than Man Obedient as a Child And ah should one Small Isle all these confine Vertues created through the World to shine Heaven that forbids and Madam so should you Remember he but bravely does pursue His Noble Fathers steps with your own Hand Then Gird his Armour on like him he 'll stand His Countries Champion and Worthy be Of your High Vertue and his Memory St. John Baptist Painted by her self in the Wilderness with Angels appearing to him and with a Lamb by him THe Sun 's my Fire when it does shine The hollow Spring 's my Cave of Wine The Rocks and Woods afford me Meat This Lamb and I on one Dish eat The neighbouring Herds my Garments send My Pallet the kind Earth doth lend Excess and Grandure I decline M'Associates onely are Divine HERODIAS Daughter presenting to her Mother St. JOHN'S Head in a Charger also Painted by her self BEhold dear Mother who was late our Fear Disarm'd and Harmless I present you here The Tongue ty'd up that made all Jury quake And which so often did our Greatness shake No Terror sits upon his Awful Brow Where Fierceness reign'd there Calmness triumphs now As Lovers use he gazes on my Face With Eyes that languish as they sued for Grace Wholly subdu'd by my Victorious Charms See how his Head reposes in my Arms. Come joyn then with me in my just Transport Who thus have brought the Hermite to the Court. On a Picture Painted by her self representing two Nimphs of DIANA'S one in a posture to Hunt the other Batheing WE are Diana's Virgin-Train Descended of no Mortal Strain Our Bows and Arrows are our Goods Our Pallaces the lofty Woods The Hills and Dales at early Morn Resound and Eccho with our Horn We chase the Hinde and Fallow-Deer The Wolf and Boar both dread our Spear In Swiftness we out-strip the Wind An Eye and Thought we leave behind We Fawns and Shaggy Satyrs awe To Sylvan Pow'rs we give the Law Whatever does provoke our Hate Our Javelins strike as sure as Fate We Bathe in Springs to cleanse the Soil Contracted by our eager Toil In which we shine like glittering Beams Or Christal in the Christal Streams Though Venus we transcend in Form No wanton Flames our Bosomes warm If you ask where such Wights do dwell In what Bless't Clime that so excel The Poets onely that can tell An Invective against Gold OF all the Poisons that the fruitful Earth E'er yet brought forth or Monsters she gave Birth Nought to Mankind has e'er so fatal been As thou accursed Gold their Gare and Sin Methinks I the Advent'rous Merchant see Ploughing the faithless Seas in search of thee His dearest Wife and Children left behind His real Wealth while he a Slave to th'Wind Sometimes becalm'd the Shore with longing Eyes Wishes to see and what he wishes Spies For a rude Tempest wakes him from his Dream And Strands his Bark by a more sad Extream Thus hopless Wretch is his whole Life-time spent And though thrice Wreck't 's no Wiser than he went Again I see the Heavenly Fair despis'd A Hagg like Hell with Gold more highly priz'd Mens Faith betray'd their Prince and Country Sold Their God deny'd all for the Idol Gold Unhappy Wretch who first found out the Oar What kind of Vengeance rests for thee in store If Nebats Son that Israel led astray Meet a severe Reward at the last Day Some strange unheard-of Judgement thou wilt find Who thus hast caus'd to Sin all Humane Kind The Miseries of Man IN that so temperate Soil Arcadia nam'd For fertile Pasturage by Poets fam'd Stands a steep Hill whose lofty jetting Crown Casts o'er the neighbouring Plains a seeming Frown Close at its mossie Foot an aged Wood Compos'd of various Trees there long has stood Whose thick united Tops scorn the Sun's Ray And hardly will admit the Eye of Day By oblique windings through this gloomy Shade Has a clear purling Stream its Passage made The Nimph as discontented seem'd t' ave chose This sad Recess to murmur forth her Woes To this Retreat urg'd by tormenting Care The melancholly Cloris did repair As a fit Place to take the sad Relief Of Sighs and Tears to ease oppressing Grief Near to the Mourning Nimph she chose a Seat And these Complaints did to the Shades repeat Ah wretched truly wretched Humane Race Your Woes from what Beginning shall I trace Where End from your first feeble New-born Cryes To the last Tears that wet your dying Eyes Man Common Foe assail'd on ev'ry hand Finds that no Ill does Neuter by him stand Inexorable Death Lean Poverty Pale Sickness ever sad Captivity Can I alas the sev'ral Parties name Which muster'd up the Dreadful Army frame And sometimes in One Body all Unite Sometimes again do separately fight While sure Success on either Way does waite Either a Swift or else a Ling'ring Fate But why 'gainst thee O Death should I inveigh That to our Quiet art the only way And yet I would could I thy Dart command Crie Here O strike and there O hold thy Hand The Lov'd the Happy and the Youthful spare And end