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ON THE QUEEN'S REPAIRING
For, though a firmly settled-peace On either side dwells Safety and Delight ; May shortly make your public labour cease, Wealth on the left, and Power upon the right. 'The grateful nation will with joy consent,
T'assure yet my defence on either hand,
Man's liberal piety of old did rear;
My neighbours and my guards, watch and com
Stopt by the houses of that wondrous street,
Which rides o'er the broad river like a fleet. w
Hen God (the cause to me and men unknown) The stream's eternal siege they fixt abide, Forsook the royal houses, and his own,
And the swoln stream's auxiliary tide, And both abandon'd to the common foe,
Though both their ruin with joint power conspire, How near to ruin 'id my glories go!
Both to out-brave, they nothing dread but fire. Nothing remain'd t' adorn this princely place
And here my Thames, though it more gentle
be Which covetous hands could take, or rude deface.
Than any flood so strengthen'd by the sea, In all my rooms and galleries I found
Finding by art his natural forces broke, The richest figures tom, and all around
And hearing, captive-like, the arched yoke, Dismember'd statues of great beroes lay ;
Does roar, and foam, and rage, at the disgrace, Such Naseby's field seem'd on the fatal day !
But re-composes straight, and calms his face ; And me, when nonght for robbery was left,
Is into reverence and submission strook, They starv'd to death : the gasping walls were
As soon as from afar he does but look cleft,
Tow'rds the white palace where that king does The pillars sunk, the roofs above me wept,
reign, No sign of spring, or joy, my garden kept ;
Who lays his laws and bridges o'er the main. Nothing was seen which could content the eye,
Amidst these louder honours of my seat; Till dead the impious tyrant here did lie.
And two vast cities, troublesomely great, See how my face is chang'd, and wbat I am
In a large various plain the country too Since my true mistress, and now foundress, Opens her gentler blessings to my view: came!
In me the active and the quiet mind, It does not fill her bounty to restore
By different ways, equal content may find. Me as I was (nor was I small before):
If any prouder virtuoso's sense She imitates the kindness to her shown ;
At that part of my prospect take offence, She does, like Heaven, (which the dejected throne By which the meaner cabbins are descry'd, At once restores, fixes, and higher rears)
Of my imperial river's humbler side Strengthen, enlarge, exalt, what she repairs.
If they call that a blemish-let them know, And now I dare, (though proud I must not be,
God, and my godlike mistress, think not so; Whilst my great mistress I so humble see
For the distress'd and the afflicted lie In all her various glories) now I dare
Most in their care, and always in their eye. Ev'n with the proudest palaces compare.
And thou, fair River ! who still pay'st to me My beauty and convenience will, I'm sure,
Just homage, in thy passage to the sea, So just a boast with modesty endure;
Take here this one instruction as thou go'stAnd all must to me yield, when I shall tell
When thy mix't waves shall visit every coast; How I am plac'd, and who does in me dwell.
When round the world their voyage they shall Before my gate a street's broad channel goes,
make, Which still with waves of crowding people fows; And back to thee some secret channels take; And every day there passes by my side,
Ask them what nobler sight they e'er did meet, Up to its western reach, the London tide,
Except thy mighty master's sovereign fleet, The spring-tides of the term : my front looks Which now triumphant o'er the main does ride, down
The terrour of all lands, the ocean's pride. On all the pride and business of the town;
From hence his kingdoms, happy now at last, My other front (for, as in kings we see
(Happy, if wise by their misfortunes past !) The liveliest image of the Deity,
From hence may omens take of that success We in their houses should Heaven's likeness find, which both their future wars and peace shali Where nothing can be said to be behind)
bless. My other fair and more majestic face
The peaceful mother on mild Thames does build; (Who can the fair to more advantage place ?)
With her son's fabrics the rough sea is fill d.
And here behold, in a long bending row,
THE COMPLAINT. The midst, the noblest place, possess'd by me, In a deep vision's intellectual sceno, Best to be seen by all, and all o'er-see!
Beneath a bower for sorrow made,
Th' uncomfortable shade
A crown was on her head, and wings were on her
The shaken strings melodiously resound.
"Art thou return'd at last," said she,
Had to their dearest children done;
Would'st into courts and cities from me go;
Business! the frivolous pretence
"Go, renegado! cast up thy account, And see to what amount
Upon the most unjust to shine and rain.
She touch'd him with her harp, and rais'd him "The Rachel, for which twice seven years and more
from the ground;
Thou didst with faith and labour serve,
But think how likely 'tis that thou,
Thou, to whose share so little bread did fall,
But ther, alas! to thee alone,
(The men whom through long wanderings he had
But, whilst thy fellow voyagers I see
That he would give them ev'n a heaven of brass:
They look'd up to that Heaven in vain,
That bounteous Heaven, which God did not re
"As a fair morning of the blessed spring,
Such was the glorious entry of our king;
Thus spake the Muse, and spake it with a smile,
"Ah, wanton foe! dost thou upbraid
Thy golden Indies in the air;
Thou slack'nest all my nerves of industry,
ON THE DEATH OF
MRS. KATHARINE PHILIPS.
Thy old and constant spite to exercise
Against the gentlest and the faireșt sex,
Which still thy deprelations most do vex?
Where still thy malice most of all Myself a demi-rotary to make.
(Thy malice or thy lust) does on the fairest fall! Thus, with Sapphira and her husband's fate, And in them most assault the fairest place, (A fault which I, like them, am taught too late) The throne of empress Beauty, ev'n the face? For all that I gave up I nothing gain,
There was enough of that here to assuage, And perish for the part which I retain.
(One would have thought) either thy lust of “Teach me not then, O thou fallacious Mue!
rage. The court, and better king, t'accuse :
Was 't not enough, when thou, prophane Disease! The heaven under which I live is fair,
Didst on this glorious temple seize? 'The fertile soil will a full harvest bear :
Was 't not enough, like a wild zealot, there, Thine, thine is all the barrenness; if thou
All the rich outward ornaments to tear, Mak’st me sit still and sing, when I should
Deface the innocent pride of beauteous images? plough.
Was 't not enough thus rudely to defile, When I but think how many a tedious year
But thou must quite destroy, the goodly pile? Our patient sovereign did attend
And thy unbounded sacrilege commit His long misfortunes' fatal end;
On th’inward holiest holy of her wit? How cheerfully, and how exempt from fear,
Cruel Disease ! there thou mistook'st thy power, On the Great Sovereign's will he did depend;
No mine of Death can that devour ; I ought to be accurst, if I refuse
On her embalmed name it will abide To wait on his, Othou fallacious Muse!
An everlasting pyramid, Kings have long hands, they say; and, though I As high as Heaven the top, as Earth the basis
wide. be So distant, they may reach at length to me. All ages past record, all countries now, However, of all the princes, thou
In various kinds such equal beauties show, Should'st not reproach rewards for being small That ev'n judge Paris would not know or slow;
On whom the golden apple to bestow;
Women and lovers would appeal from it:
This is the sovereign face.
And some (though these be of a kind that's rare, THE ADVENTURES OF FIVE
So equally renown'd for virtue are,
That it the mother of the gods might pose,
When the best woman for her guide she chosen Take in just wars a rich plate-fleet of Spain,
But if Apollo should design The rude unshapen ingots they reduce
A woman laureat to make, Into a form of beauty and of use;
Without dispute he would Orinda take, On which the conqueror's image now does shine,
Though Sappho and the famous Nine Not his whom it belong'd to in the mine:
Stood by, and did repine. So, in the mild contentions of the Muse,
To be a princess, or a queen, (The war which Peace itself loves and pursues)
Is great; but 'tis a greatness always seen : So have you home to us in triumph brought
The world did never but two women know, This cargazon of Spain with treasures fraught.
Who, one by fraud, th’ other by wit, did rise You have not basely gotten it by stealth,
To the two tops of spiritual dignities; Nor by translation borrow'd all its wealth ;
One female pope of old, one female poet now. But by a powerful spirit made it your own; Of female poets, who had names of old, Metal before, money by you 'tis grown.
Nothing is shown, but only told, "Tis current now, by your adorning it
And all we hear of them perhaps may be, With the fair stamp of your victorious wit, Male-flattery only, and male-poetry. But, though we praise this voyage of your few minutes did their beauty's lightning waste mind,
The thunder of their voice did longer last, And though ourselves enrich'd by it we find;
But that too soon was past. We're not contented yet, because we know The certain proofs of our Orinda's wit What greater stores at home within it grow, In her own lasting characters are writ, We've seen how well you foreign ores refine ; And they will long my praise of them survive, Produce the gold of your own nobler mine: .
Though long perhaps, too, that may live, The world shall then our native plenty view, The trade of glory, manag'd by the pen, And fetch materials for their wit from you ; Though great it be, and every where is found, They all shall watch the travails of your pen, Does bring in but small profit to us men; And Spain on you shall make reprisals tben, 'Tis, by the number of the sharers, drown'd.
Orinda, on the female coasts of Fame,
But wit's like a luxuriant vine;
Unless to virtue's prop it join,
Firm and erect towards Heaven bound; Though it with beauteous leaves and pleasant fruit be crown'd,
It lies, deform'd and rotting, on the ground.
No violent passion could an entrance find
When her soft breast they hit, powerless and
dead they lay!
The Fame of Friendship, which so long had told
That he may come no stranger there: So well Orinda did herself prepare, In this much different clime, for her remove To the glad world of Poetry and Love.
Thou tide of glory, which no rest dost know, But ever ebb and ever flow!
And skill in painting, dost bestow, Upon thy ancient arms, the gandy heavenly bow.
HYMN TO LIGHT.
FIRST-born of Chaos, who so fair didst come
Swift as light thoughts their empty career run,
And thou the goal of Earth shalt reach as soon as he.
Thou in the Moon's bright chariot, proud and gay,
Of thousand flowery lights thine own nocturnal spring.
Thou, Scythian-like, dost round thy lands above
"Tis, I believe, this archery to show,
That so much cost in colours thou,
Hail, active Nature's watchful life and health!
Say from what golden quivers of the sky
Swiftness and Power by birth are thine:
At thy appearance, Grief itself is said
To shake his wings, and rouse his head:
A gentle beamy smile, reflected from thy look.
Thou golden shower of a true Jove!
Who does in thee descend, and Heaven to Earth When, goddess! thou lift'st up thy waken'd make love!
At thy appearance, Fear itself grows bold;
To the check colour comes, and firmness to the knee.
Ev'n Lust, the master of a harden'd face,
Out of the morning's purple bed, Thy quire of birds about thee play And all the joyful world salutes the rising day. The ghosts, and monster-spirits, that did presume A body's privilege to assume, Vanish again invisibly,
And bodies gain again their visibility.
All the world's bravery, that deligh's our eyes, Is but thy several liveries;
Thou the rich dye on them bestow'st,
Thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou
A crimson garment in the rose thou wear'st;
Girt in thy purple swaddling-bands
Flowers fairer than her own, and durable as she. Ah, goddess! would thou could'st thy hand withhold,
And be less liberal to gold!
Didst thou less value to it give,
Of how much care, alas ! might'st thou poor man relieve!
To me the Sun is more delightful far,
And all fair days much fairer are,
But few, ah! wondrous few, there be, Who do not gold prefer, O goddess! ev'n to thee. Through the soft ways of Heaven, and air,and sea, Which open all their pores to thee, Like a clear river thou dost glide,
And with thy living stream through the close channels slide.
But, where firm bodies thy free course oppose,
But the vast ocean of unbounded day,
In th' empyræan Heaven does stay. Thy rivers, lakes, and springs, below, From thence took first their rise, thither at last must flow.
TO THE ROYAL SOCIETY,
Though full of years he do appear,
Three or four thousand years, one would have
To ripeness and perfection might have brought
Instead of solid meats t' increase his force;
Instead of vigorous exercise, they led him
Instead of carrying him to see
(His curions but not covetous eye)
With painted scenes and pageants of the brain. Some few exalted spirits this latter age has shown,
That labour'd to assert the liberty
(From guardians who were now usurpers grown)
(Whom a wise king, and Nature, chose,
Though 'twas but air condens'd, and stalk'd
Into the pleasant labyrinths of ever-fresh dis
Like some old giant's more gigantic ghost,
With the plain magic of true Reason's light—
Nor suffer'd living men to be misled
By the vain shadows of the dead:
To graves, from whence it rose, the conquer'd
He broke that monstrous god which stood
Ridiculous and senseless terrours!) made
The orchard's open now, and free,
Behold the ripen'd fruit, come gather now your
Yet still, methinks, we fain would be
Catching at the forbidden tree-
When truth and falsehood, good and evil, we,
For 'tis God only who can find
All Nature in his mind.
From words, which are but pictures of the thought,
(Though we our thoughts from them perversely
To things, the mind's right object, he it brought:
The thirsty soul's refreshing wine.
No, he before his sight must place