slow but swift away does run Just shews the Day and sets again 2. So the prime Beauty of the Spring The Virgin Lilly works our Eyes No sooner blown but the gay thing Steals from th' Admirers sight and dyes 3. The gaudy Sweets o' th' Infant Year That ravish both the smell and view Do thus deceitfully appear And fade as soon as smelt unto 4. Aminta tho' she be more Fair Than untoucht Lillys Chast as those Welcome as Suns in Winter are And sweeter than the blowing Rose 5. Yet when she brought as late she did All that a dying Heart cou'd ease And by her swift return forbid The Joys to last she 's too like these 6. Ah Tyrant Beauty do you thus Increase our Joy to make it less And do you only shew to us A Heav'n without design to bless 7. This was unmercifully kind And all our Bliss too dear has cost For is it not a Hell to find We had a Paradise that 's lost A Copy of Verses Written by Mr. Edmund Waller above Forty Years since and never Printed in any Edition of his Poetry 1. CLoris farewell I now must go For if with thee I longer stay Thy Eyes prevail upon me so I shall prove Blind and lose my way 2. Fame of thy Beauty and thy Youth Among the rest me hither brought Finding this Fame fall short of truth Made me stay longer than I thought 3. For I 'm engag'd by Word and Oath A Servant to another's Will Yet for thy Love wou'd forfeit both Cou'd I be sure to keep it still 4. But what assurance can I take When thou foreknowing this abuse For some more worthy Lover's sake May'st leave me with so just excuse 5. For thou may'st say 't was not thy fault That thou did'st thus inconstant prove Being by my Example taught To break thy Oath to mend thy Love 6. No Cloris no I will return And raise thy Story to that height That Strangers shall at distance burn And she distrust me Reprobate 7. Then shall my Love this doubt displace And gain such trust that I may come And banquet sometimes on thy Face But make my constant Meals at home CUPID's Pastime By Sidney Godolphin Esquire 1. IT chanc'd of late a Shepherd Swain That went to seek his wander'd Sheep Within a thicket on a Plain Espied a dainty Nymph asleep 2. Her Golden Hair o're-spread her Face Her careless Arms abroad were cast Her Quiver had her Pillows place Her Breast lay bare to ev'ry Blast 3. The Shepherd stood and gaz'd his fill Nought durst he do nought durst he say While Chance or else perhaps his will Guided the God of Love that way 4. The crafty Boy thus sees her sleep Whom if she wak'd he durst not see Behind her closely seeks to creep Before her Knap shou'd ended be 5. There come he steals her Shafts away And put his own into their place Nor dares he any longer stay But e're she wakes hies thence apace 6. Scarce was he gone but she awakes And spies the Shepherd gazing by Her bended Bow in haste she takes And at the simple Swain let 's fly 7. Forth flew the Shaft and pierc'd his Heart That to the Ground he fell with pain Yet soon he up again did start And to the Nymph he ran amain 8. Amaz'd to see so strange a sight She Shot and Shot but all in vain The more his Wounds the more his might Love yielding Strength amidst his Pain 9. Her angry Eyes were big with Tears She blames her Hand she blames her Skill The bluntness of her Shafts she fears And try them on her self she will 10. Take heed fair Nymph try not thy Shaft Each little touch will pierce thy Heart Alas thou know'st not Cupid's craft Revenge is Joy the end is Smart 11. Yet she will try and pierce some bare Her Hands were glov'd but next to hand Was that fair Breast that Breast so rare That made the Shepherd senseless stand 12. That Breast she pierc'd and through that Breast Love found an entry to her Heart At feeling of this new-come Guest Lord how this gentle Nymph did start 13. She runs not now she Shoots no more Away she throws both Shaft and Bow She seeks for what she shunn'd before She thinks the Shepherd's haste too slow 14. Though Mountains meet not Lovers may What others did just so did they The God of Love sate on a Tree And laught the pleasing sight to see FOR THE NEW YEAR TO THE SUN INTENDED To be Sung before Their Majesties on New-Years Day 1693-94 Written by Mr. Prior at the Hague LIght of the World and Ruler of the Year With happy Speed begin thy great Career And as the Radiant Journey 's run Where e're thy Beams are spread where e're thy Power is known Through all the distant Nations own That in Fair Albion thou hast seen The Greatest Prince the Brightest Queen That ever Sav'd a People ever Grac'd a Throne So may Thy God-head be confest So the returning Year be Blest As its Infant Months bestow Springing Wreaths for William's Brow As its Summer's Youth shall shed Eternal Sweets round Mary's Head From the Blessings They shall know Our Times are Dated and our Aera's move They Govern and Enlighten all below As Thou do'st all above Let our Heroe in the War Active and Fierce like Thee appear Like Thee Great Son of Jove like Thee When clad in rising Majesty Thou Marchest down o're Delos Hills confest With all thy Arrows Arm'd with all thy Glory Drest Like Thee the Heroe does his Arms imploy The raging Python to destroy Cho. And give the injur'd Nations Peace and Joy From Ancient Times Historic Stores Gather all the smiling Hours All that with Friendly Care have guarded Patriots and Kings in Rightful Wars All that with Conquest have rewarded His Great Fore-Fathers Pious Cares All that Story have Recorded Sacred to Nassau's long Renown For Countries Sack'd and Battels Won Cho. March Them again in fair Array And bid Them form the Happy Day The Happy Day design'd to wait On William 's Fame and Europe 's Fate Let the Happy Day be Crown'd With great Event and fair Success No brighter in the Year be found But that which brings the Victor home in Peace Again Thy God-head we implore Great in Wisdom as in Power Again for Mary's sake and ours Chuse out other smiling Hours Such as with lucky Wings have fled When Happy Counsels were advising Such as have glad Omens shed O're forming Laws and Empires rising Such as many Lustres ran Hand in Hand a goodly Train To bless the Great Eliza's Reign And in the Typic Glory show The fuller Bliss which Mary should bestow As the Graver Hours advance Mingled send into the Dance Many fraught with all the Treasures Which the Eastern Travel views Many wing'd with all the Pleasures Man can ask or Heav'n diffuse To ease the Cares which for her Subjects sake The Pious Queen does with glad Patience take Cho. To let
Her all the Blessings know Which from those Cares upon Her Subjects flow For Thy own Glory Sing our Sov'raign's Praise God of Verses and of Days Let all Thy Tuneful Sons adorn Their lasting Work with William's Name Let chosen Muses yet unborn Take Mary's Goodness for their Theam Eternal Structures let Them raise On William's and on Mary's Praise Nor want new Subjects for the Song Nor fear They can exhaust the Store Till Nature's Musick lies unstrung Till Thou shalt shine no more The DUEL By Henry Savil Esquire Written soon after the Duel of the Staggs IN Milford-Lane near to St. Clement's Steeple There liv'd a Nymph kind to all Christian People A Nymph she was whose comely Mean and Feature Did Wound the Heart of every Man-like Creature Under her Beauteous Bosom there did lye A Belly smooth as any Ivory Yet Nature to declare her various Art Had plac'd a Tuft in one convenient part No Park with smoothest Lawn and highest Wood Could e're compare with this admir'd aboad Here all the Youth of England did repair To take their Pleasure and to ease their Care Here the Distressed Lover that had born His haughty Mistress Anger or her Scorn Came for Relief and on this pleasant Shade Forgot the former and this Lass obey'd But yet what corner of the World is found Where Pain our Pleasure doth not still surround One would have thought that in this shady Grove Nought could have dwelt but quiet Peace and Love But Heaven directed otherwise for here In mid'st of plenty Bloody Wars appear The Gods will frown where-ever they do smile The Crocodile infests the fertile Nile Lyons and Tygers in the Lesbian Plains Forbid all Pleasures to the fearful Swains Wild Beasts in Forests do the Hunters fright They fear their ruin mid'st of their delight Thus in the Shade of this dark silent Bower Strength strives with Strength and Pow'r does vie with Power Two mighty Monsters did the Wood infest And struck such awe and terrour in the rest That no Sicilian Tyrant e're could boast He e're with greater vigour rul'd the roast Each had his Empire which he kept in awe Was by his Will obey'd allow'd no Law Nature so well divided had their States Nought but Ambition could have claim'd their Seats For 'twixt their Empires stood a Briny Lake Deep as the Poet 's do the Center make But here Ambition will admit no Bounds There are no Limits to aspiring Crowns The Spanyard by his Europe Conquests bold Sails o're the Ocean for the Indian Gold The Carthaginian Hero did not stay Because he met vast Mountains in his way He past the Alps like Mole-Hills such a mind As thinks on Conquests will be unconfin'd Both with these haughty Thoughts one course do bend To try if this vast Lake had any end Where finding Countreys yet without a Name They might by Conquest get eternal Fame After long Marches both their Armies tir'd At length they find the place so much admir'd When in a little time each doth descry The glimps of an approaching Enemy Each at the sight with equal Pleasure move As we should do in well rewarded Love Blood-thirsty Souls whose only perfect joy Consists in what their Fury can destroy And now both Armies do prepare to fight And each the other unto War incite In vain alas for all their force and strength Was now consumed by their Marches length But the great Chiefs impatient of delay Resolve by single fight to try the Day TO A Person of Honour UPON HIS Incomprehensible Poems By COme on you Criticks find one fault who dares Or read it backwards like a Witches Prayers 'T will do as well Throw not away your jests On solid Nonsense that abides all Tests Wit like Terse Claret when 't begins to pall Neglected lies and 's of no use at all But in its full perfection of decay Turns Vinegar and comes again in play Thou hast a Brain such as it is indeed Or what else shou'd thy Worm of fancy feed Yet in a Filberd I have often known Maggots survive when all the Kernel's gone This Simile shall stand in thy defence 'Gainst those dull Rogues that now and then write Sense Thy Wit 's the same whatever be thy Theam As some digestions turn all Meat to Pnlegn They lie dear Ned that say thy Brain is barren Where deep Conceits like Maggots breed in Carrion Thy stumbling foundred Muse can trot as high As any other Pegasus can fly So the dull Eel moves nimbler in the Mud Than all the swift Finn'd Racers of the Flood As skilful Divers to the bottom fall Sooner than those who cannot swim at all So in this way of Writing without thinking Thou hast a strange agility in sinking Thou writest below ev'n thy own Natural parts And with acquired dulness and new Arts Of Non-sense seisest on kind Readers Hearts Therefore dear Rogue at my advice forbear Such loud Complaints 'gainst Criticks to prefer Since thou art turn'd an arrant Libeller Thou sett'st thy hand to what thy self does write Did ever Libel yet more sharply bite Upon the same THou damn'd Antipodes to Common Sense Thou Foil to Fleckno prithee tell from whence Does all this mighty Stock of dullness spring Is it thy own or hast it from Snow-Hill Assisted by some ballad-making Quill No they fly higher yet thy Plays are such I 'de swear they were Translated out of Dutch Fain wou'd I know what Dyet thou dost keep If thou dost always or dost never sleep Sure Hasty-Pudding is thy chiefest Dish With Bullocks Liver or some stinking Fish Garbage Oxcheeks and Tripes do feast thy Brain Which nobly pays this Tribute back again With Dazy Roots thy Dwarfish Muse is fed A Gyants Body with a Pigmy's head Can'st thou not find among thy num'rous Race Of Kindred one to tell thee that thy Plays Are laught at by the Pit Box Gallerys nay Stage Think on 't a while and thou wilt quickly find Thy Body made for Labour not thy Mind No other use of Paper thou shou'dst make Than carrying Loads and Reams upon thy back Carry vast Burthens till thy Shoulders shrink But Curst be he that gives thee Pen and Ink. Such dangerous Weapons shou'd be hept from Fools As Nurses from their Children keep edge-Tools For thy dull Fancy a Muckinder is fit To wipe the Slabberings of thy Snotty Wit And though 't is late if Justice cou'd be found Thy Plays like blind-born Puppies shou'd be drown'd For were it not that we respect afford Unto the Son of an Heroick Lord Thine in the Ducking-Stool shou'd take her seat Drest like her self in a great Chair of State Where like a Muse of Quality she 'd dye And thou thy self shalt make her Elegy In the same strain thou writ'st thy Comedy Upon the same AS when a Bully draws his Sword Tho' no Man gives him a cross word And all Perswasions are in vain To make him put it up again Each Man draws too and falls upon him
she streight rejects again Her looks the Emblems of her Thoughts appear Vary'd with Rage with Pity and Despair Alone her Fears incline to no Extream Equally poiz'd betwixt Revenge and Shame At length with more prevaling Rage possest Her jealous Honour steels her daring Breast The thoughts of injur'd Fame new Courage gave And nicer Virtue now confirms her brave Then the fam'd Judith her whole mind employs Urges her hand and sooths the fatal Choice This great Example pleas'd inflam'd by this With wild disorder to the Youth she flys One hand she wreaths within his flowing Hair The other does the ready Weapon bear Now guide me crys fair Hebrew now look down A nd pity Labours thou hast undergone Direct the Hand that takes thy Path to Fame And be Propitious to a Virgin 's Name Who 's Glory 's but a Refuge from her shame Thus rais'd by Hopes and arm'd with Courage now She with undaunted Looks directs the Blow Deep in his Breast the spacious Wound she made And to his Heart dispatch'd th' unerring Blade When their expiring Lord the Servants heard Whose dying Groans the fatal Act declar'd Like a fierce Torrent with no Bounds they 're stay'd But vent their Rage on the defenceless Maid Not Vertue Youth nor Beauty in distress Can move their savage Breasts to tenderness But Death with horrid Torments they prepare And to her Fate th' undaunted Virgin bear Tortures and Death seem lovely in her Eyes Since she to Honour falls a Sacrifice Amidst her Sufferings still her Mind is great And free from guilt she triumphs o're her Fate But Heav'n that 's suff'ring Vertue 's sure Reward Exerts its Power and is it self her Guard Amalis conscious of his black Offence Now feels remorse for her wrong'd Innocence Tho' now he 's strugling in the pangs of death And all life 's purple Stream is ebbing forth Yet raising up his pale and drooping head He recollects his Spirits as they fled And with his last remains of Voice he said Spare the chast Maid your impious hands restrain Nor Beauty with such Insolence prophane Learn by my Fate wrong'd Innocence to spare Since injur'd Vertue 's Heav'ns peculiar Care But you brave Virgin now shall stand enrol'd Amongst the Noblest Heroines of old Thy fam'd Attempt and celebrated Hand Shall lasting Trophies of thy Glory stand And if my Verse the just Reward can give Thutilla's Name shall to new Ages live For to thy Sex thou hast new Honours won And France now boasts a Judith of its own An ODE FOR St. Cecilia's Day 1693. Written by Mr. THO. YALDEN. And Composed by Mr. Daniel Purcell 1. BEgin and strike th' harmonious Lyre Let the loud Instruments prepare To raise our Souls and charm the Ear With Joys which Musick only can inspire Hark how the willing Strings obey To consecrate this happy Day Sacred to Musick Love and blest Cecilia In lofty Numbers Tuneful Lays We 'll celebrate the Virgin 's Praise Her skilful Hand first taught our Strings to move To her this sacred Art we owe Who first anticipated Heav'n below And play'd the Hymns on Earth that she now sings Above 2 What moving Charms each Tuneful Voice contains Charms that thro' the willing ear A Tide of pleasing Raptures bear And with diffusive Joys run thrilling thro' our Veins The listning Soul does Sympathize And with each vary'd Noat complies While gay and sprightly Airs Delight Then free from Cares and unconfin'd It takes in pleasing Extacies its flight With mournful Sounds a sadder Garb it wears Indulges Grief and gives a loose to Tears 3 Musick 's the Language of the Blest above No Voice but Musick 's can express The Joys that happy Souls possess Nor in just Raptures tell the wond'rous Pow'r of Love 'T is Nature's Dialect design'd To charm and to instruct the Mind Musick 's an Universal Good That does dispence its joys around In all the Elegancy of Sound To be by Men admir'd by Angels understood 4 Let ev'ry restless Passion cease to move And each tumultuous thought obey The happy influence of this Day For Musick 's Unity and Love Musick 's the soft indulger of the mind The kind diverter of our care The surest Refuge mournful grief can find A Cordial to the Breast and Charm to ev'ry Ear. Thus when the Prophet struck his Tuneful Lyre Saul's evil Genius did retire In vain were Remedies apply'd In vain all other Arts were try'd His Hand and Voice alone the Charm cou'd find To heal his Body and compose his Mind 5 Now let the Trumpets louder Voice proclaim A solemn Jubile For ever Sacred let it be To Skilful Jubals and Cecilia's Name Great Jubal Author of our Lays Who first the hidden charms of Musick found And thro' their Airy Paths did trace The secret Springs of Sound When from his hollow chorded Shell The Soft melodious Accents fell With Wonder and Delight he play'd While the Harmoneous Strings his Skilful Hand obey'd 6 But fair Cecilia to a pitch Divine Improv'd her artful Lays When to the Organ she her Voice did Joyn In the Almighty's Praise Then Choirs of Listning Angels stood around Admir'd her Art and blest the Heav'nly Sound Her Praise alone no Tongue can reach But in the Strains her self did teach Then let the Voice and Lyre combine And in a Tuneful Consort joyn For Musick 's her Reward and Care Above sh' enjoys it and protects it here Grand Chorus Then kindly treat this happy Day And grateful Honours to Cecilia pay To her these lov'd harmonious Rites belong To her that Tunes our Strings and still Inspires our Song Thus may her Day for ever be Blest with Love and Harmony Blest as its great Saint appear Still may fair Cecilia's prove A Day of Harmony and Love T' attone for all the Discords of the Year A SONG FOR St. CECILIA'S Day At OXFORD By Mr. Jo. Addison 1 CEcilia who 's Exalted Hymns With joy and wonder fill the Blest In Quires of warbling Seraphims Known and distinguisht from the rest Attend Harmonious Saint and see Thy vocal Sons of Harmony Attend Harmonious Saint and hear our Pray'rs Enliven all our Earthy Airs And as thou Sing'st thy God teach us to Sing of Thee Tune ev'ry String and ev'ry Tongue Be thou the Muse and Subject of our Song 2. Let all Cecilia's Praise proclaim Employ the Eccho in her Name Hark how the Flutes and Trumpets raise At bright Cecilia's Name their Lays The Organ labours in her Praise Cecilia's Name does all our Numbers grace From ev'ry Voice the Tuneful Accents fly In soaring Trebles now it rises high And now it sinks and dwells upon the Bass. Cecilia's Name through all the Notes we Sing The work of ev'ry skilful Tongue The Sound of ev'ry trembling String The Sound and Triumph of our Song 3. For ever Consecrate the day To Musick and Cecilia Musick the greatest Good that Mortals know And all of Heav'n we have below Musick can noble hints impart Engender Fury kindle Love