here the Spring and throw fresh Garlands on With all the Flowers that wait the rising Sun These ever greens true Emblems of his Soul Take Daphne these and scatter thro' the whole Whilst the Eternal Dryden's Worth I tell My lovely Bard that so lamented fell Such true delight his Comick Muse adorn Here you are shewn the Vices you shou'd scorn Poor ridicul'd Melantha bears her part Her native Beauty 's spoil'd by foreign Art Gomez the old past any use of Life To all his less Diseases adds a Wife Who does not then Elvira's Youth excuse When gay Lorenzo offers the Abuse But most I laugh when Dominich is shewn Such Hipocrites Religion shou'd disown Bring here the Spring and throw fresh Garlands on With all the Flowers that wait the rising Sun These ever greens true Emblems of his Soul Take Daphne these and scatter thro' the whole Whilst the Eternal Dryden's Worth I tell My lovely Bard that so lamented fell Shepherds the Sun declines or I cou'd shew O're all his well-drest Scenes how Nature flows What Strength what Wit what Learning in each part Here to the Soul he speaks there to the Heart Tho' you attend with an unwearied Ear Your Flocks and Herds seem to require your care Here let us now our last sad Tears combine Here let us all in solemn Mourning join Bring here the Spring and throw fresh Garlands on With all the Flowers that wait the Rising Sun These ever greens true Emblems of his Soul Take Daphne these and scatter thro' the whole Whilst the Immortal Dryden ' s Worth I tell My lovely Bard that so lamented fell Clio The Historick Muse On the Death of John Dryden Esq By Mrs. M. P. IMmortal Clio thou my Breast inspire And set my Numbers to thy tuneful Lyre Whilst I a Requiem sing to Dryden's Name The fore-most Bard and Eldest Son of Fame Ye tender Loves in mumuring Sighs deplore Him whose soft strain adorn'd the British Shore Whose Charming Verse was Sung thro all the Plains Mov'd the Coy Nimphs and fir'd the Amorous Swains From Fields from Silver Streams and Grotto's come Bring all their Flowers to Deck your Master 's Tomb. Enrich his Hearse with Balm of Eloquence Sweet as his Numbers Lofty as his Sence Say how you flag'd your Wings in that dark Day That snatch'd from Mortal 〈◊〉 your Fa◠away Say this and more too much you cannot say Weep all with melting Strains in Comfort join In Solemn Woe t' assist the Mourning Nine But when ye 'ave paid or Grief the mighty Score When pitying Gods man did you Weep no more Sing their Immortal praise from Pole to Pole That gave our Maro so Divine a 〈◊〉 Whose Verses shin'd like 〈◊〉 and as 〈◊〉 As Milton Soar'd or any Muse can fly Of Love of War when e're his 〈…〉 All listen'd to the Musick of his Song And useless Flutes upon the Willows hung But who on Earth can Boast of true Repose Pale Envy from her Snaky Bed arose In thousand Shapes his Merit to oppose As when conspiring Nations vainly join'd ' Gainst some Hero's mighty Strength and mightier mind Like Hercules the more his Glory grows And still survives the malice of his Foes New Labours add to his triumphant Bays And every Victim sounds his deathless Praise Thus Vertue higher flies oppress'd with pains And Valour brightest shines in dusty Plains Stop here my Muse no more thy Office boast This drop of Praise is in an Ocean lost His Works alone are Trumpets of his Fame And every Line will Chronicle his Name Calliope The Heroick Muse On the Death of John Dryden Esq By Mrs. C. T. CEase all my tuneful Sisters now restrain Your sacred Fire you lavish it in vain At least no grateful Vows I e're shall hear again Dryden's no more Who with such Ardour pray'd And such rich Incense at our Altars paid He charm'd us to his Will each strove which best Our Votary cou'd inspire he all address'd And was by all with Emulation blest Who now such Offerings for our Gifts can bring Now sad Melpomene alone may sing Or we by her inspr'd each break her Lyre And all be ever stil'd The mournful Quire Yet you my happier Sisters still enflame Some favourite Bard who well invokes your Name Vanbrugh the Comick Muse has Grac'd with Praise Granvill whose well wrought Scenes the Passions raise In Tragick Strains shall long adorn the Stage And Garth in pointed Satyr lash the Age. Each equal to his Theme my loftier flight Not daring yet t' attempt Bl re in spight Of me and Nature still presumes to write Heavy and doz'd crawls out the tedious length Unfit to soar drags on with Peasant strength The weight he cannot raise be his alone The Glory of a Work which I disown Heroick Dulness eternize his Fame Maevius forgot Proverbial be his Name Scarce was I more enrag'd against the Three Assassins Chapman Hobbs and Ogilby The last my Virgil had defac'd in vain To all his Charms by Dryden rais'd again But still my mangled Homer's Wounds remain With Envy he beheld fresh Lawrels spread On the Triumphing Mantuan's sacred head Who with Majestick mein his Crown retreiv'd The Britain's Homage awfully receiv'd I take he said these Honours as my own Grac'd justly with the Prize which Dryden won Let this my Son my grateful Tribute be That I am proud of Praise I owe to thee That I confess thou mak'st my Genius shine In my own Numbers Drest not more Divine Thus lively were the Images I drew Thus Romans saw Old Troy in Flames a new Thus interrested in Aeneas Fate Share all the joys or hardships I relate Thus join my Battels feel the Wounds I paint Thus fought my Heroe and thus Went my Saint Belov'd and pitty'd thus Brave Turnus fell Both Vanquish'd by our selves we drew so well The lovely Youth all grieve his Fate to see And less applaud our Hero's Victory With Virgil Chaucer sings Great Dryden's Name Who gave new luster to his darkned Fame Dispel'd the Clouds by which he was conceal'd And to his native Isle the Bard reveal'd Not blest enough in his own glorious State Till he to them a part Communicate Of all great Actions by his bounteous Flame Th' inciter and Reward Now you who aim With fading Pow'r at bright immortal Fame Ambitious Monarchs all whom Glory warms Cease your vain toil throw down your conquering Arms Your active Souls confine since you must dye Like vulgar Men your Names and Actions lye Where Trojan Heroes had not Homer liv'd Had lain forgot nor ruin'd Troy surviv'd No more their Glories I can e're retrieve For Nature can no second Dryden give Terpsichore A Lyrick Muse On the Death of John Dryden Esq By Mrs. L. D. ex tempore JUST as the Gods were listening to my Strains And thousand Loves danc't o're the Aethereal Plains With my own radiant Hair my Harp I strung And in glad Consort all my Sisters sung An universal Harmony above Inspir'd us
The Nine MUSES OR POEMS Upon the Death of the late Famous JOHN DRYDEN Esq The Nine MUSES OR POEMS WRITTEN By Nine several Ladies Upon the Death of the late Famous JOHN DRYDEN Esq As Earth thy Body keeps thy Soul the Sky So shall this Verse preserve thy Memory For thou shalt make it live because it Sings of thee Mr. Dryden's Elegy on Lady Abington LONDON Printed for Richard Basset at the Mitre in Fleetstreet 1700. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Charles Montague Esq Auditor of His Majesty's Exchequer and One of his Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council SIR AS You are justly Entitled to the greatest share of the Muses favours so Poems that are done by those who give themselves the Honour of being their Representatives could not fix on on a more deserving Patron The Sex which the Authors are of is an excuse for their performance and as commendation to Your Acceptance and though to fall under Your Censure is to be examin'd by the nicest of Judges yet to have Recourse to a Gentleman who is continually employ'd in Pardoning the Defects of Authors and giving 'em Encouragement to Write something Worthy of His Acceptance takes off from the Apprehension of Your Displeasure which I might otherwise Labour under The Ladies indeed themselves might have had a better Plea for Your Reception but since the modesty which is Natural to the Sex they are of will not suffer em to do that Violence to their Tempers I think my self Oblig'd to make a Present of what is Written in Honour of the most Consummate POET amongst our English Dead to the most Distinguishing amongst the Living You have been pleased already to shew Your Respect to his Memory in contributing so largely towards His Burial notwithstanding He had that unhappiness of Conduct when alive to give you Cause to Disclaim the Protection of Him And though it may look something like innovation upon the Practice of Men of my Profession to take what is the business of Authors upon 'em yet since I am not the first Bookseller that has Broken out off the Road which is mark'd out for those of my Trade I humbly beg leave to advance the Credit of the Papers which are my Property by prefixing a Name which must needs stamp Authority upon em and the Honour of Subscribing SIR Your most Obedient and most Devoted Servant Ric. Basset To my Friend Upon his Publishing the following POEMS Written by Nine Ladies personating the MVSES WHen Ladies venture forth in search of Fame And represent the Justice of their Claim The tempting Goddess reaches out the Bays And entertains the Sex with Draughts of Praise As ev'ry Muse does in their Favour rise And ev'ry Grace sits sparkling in their Eyes Our Sex would then if Silent much abuse And shew it self unworthy of a Muse Should we not Wit with Beauty joyn'd approve When Beauty without Wit has forc'd our Love Believe me Friend and think my Censure true I feel the Lover and the Rival too Raptur'd with Joys which all my Soul possess Yet could almost have wish'd the Pleasure less Since in their Lines I feel that strength of Thought Which I could never reach the' daily sought 'T is true the Men their Tears have duely paid And 〈…〉 kept the Shade But oh What God would listen to our Call What Goddess lend us Strains to mourn his Fall Phaebus had fix'd his longing Ears and Eyes And dwell'd upon more acceptable Cries Hence issues forth a 〈◊〉 delightful Song Fair as their Sex and as their Judgment strong Moving its Force and tempting in its Ease Secur'd of Fame unknowing to displease In ev'ry word like Aganippe clear And close its meaning and its Sence severe As virtuous Thoughts with chast Expressions join And make 'em truly what They feign divine Nor shall this Work be wanting to success While Beauty's Deity shall Beauty bless While Dryden's Name deduc'd to future Times Shall give and take a lustre from its Rhimes While Noble Montague's auspicious Name Shall add t' its Merit and preserve its Fame Philomusus Melpomene The Tragick Muse On the Death of John Dryden Esq By Mrs. M COME all my Sisters now in Consort join Each weep her Favrite's loss with Tears Divine Fill all the Space with your immortal Sighs The vaulted Heavens return your louder Cries Ye Loves and Graces-hang your Heads and weep And every God a decent Silence keep That I may Grieve my fill for Dryden's gone Well may I now the mourning Vail put on Well may I now with Cypress load my Brow For who like him can e'er invoke me now Who sang fair Killigrew's untimely fall And more than Roman made her Funeral Inspir'd by Me for me he cou'd Command Bright Abington's rich Monument shall stand For evermore the Wonder of the Land Oldham he snatch'd from an ignoble Fate Chang'd his cross Star for a more fortunate For who wou'd not with Pride resign his Breath To be so Lov'd to be so Blest in Death Cromwel's great Genius here was greater shewn Well might such Vertues for one Vice attone If vast Ambition can be reckon'd Vice Which to great Jove gave the Imperial Skies The Monarch CHARLES he has Divinely Sung Well I remember when my Graces hung On each inchanting Accent of his Tongue Then a whole Hecatomb of Vows he made And I the Offering gratefully repaid For this alone he has deserv'd the Prize As Ranelagh for her Victorious Eyes When on the Tragick Theme my Hero wrote I lent him all my Fire and every Thought How Artfully he does the Passions move How at his Voice we Languish Weep or Love Ev'n I a Maid of so untouch'd a Fame At Cleopatra's Grief must pitty more than blame St. Catherine's Martyrdom has greater Charms Than the lewd Prince imagin'd from her Arms. Whilst Dorax and Sebastian both contend To shew the generous Enemy and Friend O I should never cease should I repeat Each lesser part of that which forms the great Fixt like the Sun Superiour and alone His Glories o're inferiour Beings shone Pale twinkling Stars all other Writers seem Nor warms nor lights tho' they 'r in Numbers seen In him alone all Attributes were found And he the Universal God renown'd Unfollow'd drove through all his own Immortal round Melpomene Urania The Divine Muse On the Death of John Dryden Esq By the Honourable the Lady P WHEN through the Universe with Horrour spread A sacred Voice pronounc'd Great PAN was dead All Nature trembled at the direful Fate And Atlas sunk beneatl his pond'rous weight The mournful Muses hâ—ng their heads with woe While ev'ry Deity regrets the Blow And to the holy Oracles deny All farther Inspects of futurity The Earth did under strong Convulsions groan And Heaven did eccho back the dreadful moan With no less grief with no less pain opprest Britania felt the wound within her Breast When through the murmuring Croud sad Accents bore The fatal News that Dryden was no more No more to charm the
all with Gaiety and Love A horrid Sound dasht our immortal Mirth Wafted by Sighs from the unlucky Earth who 'd 〈◊〉 Celestial Forms should Sorrows know Or simpathize with sad Events below But by our great Immortal Selves we do For when the loud unwelcome Message spread With dismal Accents tuneful Dryden's Dead All our gay Joys in hast affrighted fled A sullen Gloom seiz'd all the Gods around My feeble hand no more the Lyre cou'd sound And all the soft young Loves with drooping Wings Lisp't their concern and my neglected Strings Trembl'd themselves into a mournful Air Then sight and husht into a sad despair There let them ever unregardedly Apollo's too doth cease its Harmony He with as sacred Nimphs profusely mourns With us the least desire of Respite scorns Intire eternal Grief our Beings seize For him who best could us and Mankind please Great Dryden in whose yast capacious Mind Our utmost pow'r did fit reception find Which Favours he did generously dispence Joy'd the glad World with his amazing Sence And like us too diffus'd his Influence His Genius would such Inspiration bear That his Illustrious Lines did not appear As if our Product but our Selves were there Mourn ye forsaken Worlds you ne're again Be blest with so Divine so great a Swain In you no more let tuneful Mirth be found The very Spheres shall cease wonted Sound And every Orb stop its harmonious round All Nature hush as if intranc't she lay Sunk in old Chaoâ— e're the inlight'ning Ray Of Heaven awak'd her in the first-born Day With such still Horrour lets our Sorrows bear Least Sighs in time Harmonious should appear If e're to Write again is Man's intent Uncall'd on let us silently Lament And take his Works for an Eternal President Polimnia Of Rhetorick On the Death of John Dryden Esq By Mrs. D. E. CAll'd by my Grief Melpomene I come With Radiant Tears to Grace my Dryden's Tome Me my imperial Father Jove has made Of powerful Rhetorick the Glorioâ—â— Maid But since my Heav'nly Birth did ne're inspire Nor Found a Soul Capacious of such Fire Pleas'd with the mortal Wonder I look'd down And on his Brows fixt an Immortal Crown With Lovers hands I la visht all my Charms Gave up my self to his more Lovely Arms Which his unequal'd Works so loudly Sound Where Energy and Rhetorick abound And every Grace that 's in Minerva found Ah Mournful Sister thou my Grief must share A loss so vast no single Breast can bear Wreath me in my Dark Robes I 'le watch thy Eyes Mingle our Tears and Eccho to thy Sighs Of Eloquence no more the use I 'le Boast That all Arts are in my Lover Lost Incessant Groans be all my Rhetorick now My Immortality I wou'd forgoe Rather than drag this Chain of endless Woe O mighty Father hear a Daughter's Pray'r Cure me by Death from deathless sad Dispair FINIS BOOKS Printed for Richard Basset at the Mitre against Chancery-Lane in Fleetstreet POetae Britannici A Poem Satyrical and Panegyrical upon our English Poets By Mr. Cob of Trinity College in Cambridge price One Shilling The Sceptical Muse Or a Paradox upon Humane Understanding A Poem By Mr. Dove of Catharine-Hall Price 6 d. The Polite Gentleman or Reflections upon the several kinds of Wit viz. in Books Conversation aâ—d Affairs of the World By Mr. Barker 120. Price 1 s. 6 d. The French Spy or the Memoirs of John Baptist de la Fontaine Lord of Savoy and Fontenai late Brigadeer and Surveyor of the French King's Army now a Prisoner in the Bastile containing many Secret Transactions relating both to England and France 8vo p. 5 s. Travels over England Scotland and Wales giving a True and exact Description of the Chiefest Cities Towns and Corporations together with the Antiquities of divers other Places with the most famous Cathedrals and other Eminent Structres of several Remarkable Caves and Wells with many other Divertive Passages never before Published By James Brome M. A. Rector of Cheriton in Kent and Chaplain to the Right Honorable the Earl of Romney 8vo p. 4 s. 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S. and a Member of the College of Physitians The Innocent Mistress a Comedy Ibrahim the 13th Emperor of the Turks a Tragedy The Spanish Wives a Farce The Deceiver Deceiv'd a Comedy Queen-Catharine Or the Ruines of Love a Tragedy All Written by Mrs. Pix The Unnatural Mother the Scene in the Kingdom of Siam a Tragi-Comedy Written by a Young Lady The Beau Defeated or Lucky Younger Brother a Comedy Xerxes a Tragedy Written by Mr. Cibber