What praises fing? What charmer's name Tranfmit immortal down to fame? Strike, ftrike thy ftring, let echo take the found, And bear it far, to all the mountains round; Pindus again fhall hear, again rejoice, And Hemus too, as when th' enchanting voice Of tuneful Orpheus charm'd the grove, Taught oaks to dance, and made the cedars move.

Nor Venus, nor Diana will we name;

Myra is Venus and Diana too,

All that was feign'd of them, apply to her, is true; Then fing, my mufe, let Myra be our theme.

As when the fhepherds would a garland make, They fearch with care the fragrant meadows round;

Plucking but here and there and only take
The choiceft flow'rs with which fome nymph is
crown'd.

In framing Myra fo divinely fair,
Nature has taken the fame care;
All that is lovely, noble, good, we see,
All, beauteous Myra, all bound up in thee.
Where Myra is, there is the queen of love,
Th' Arcadian pastures, and th' Idalian grove.
Let Myra dance, fo charming is her mien,
In every movement every grace is feen;
Let Myra fing, the notes fo fweetly wound,
The fyrens would be filent at the found.
Place me on mountains of eternal fnow,
Where all is ice, all winter winds that blow;
Or caft me underneath the burning line,

Where everlasting fun does fhine;
Where all is fcorch'd-whatever you decrce.
Ye gods! wherever I shall be,

Myra fhall still be lov'd, and still ador'd by me.

SONG TO MYRA.

I.

WHY, cruel creature, why fo bent To vex a tender heart?

To gold and title you resent,

Love throws in vain his dart.

II.

Let glittering fools in courts be great;
For pay, let armies move;
Beauty fhould have no other bait
But gentle vows, and love.

111.

If on those endless charms you lay
The value that's their due,
Kings are themselves too poor to pay,
A thousand worlds too few.

IV.

But if a paffion without vice,
Without disguife or art,

Ah Myra! if true love's your price,
Behold it in my heart.

MYRA SINGING.

THE fyrens, once deluded, vainly charm'd,
Ty'd to the maft, Ulyffes fail'd unharm'd;
Had Myra's voice entic'd his listening ear,.
The Greek had stopt, and would have dy'd to hear
When Myra fings, we feek th' enchanting found,
And bless the notes that do fo fweetly wound.
What mufic needs must dwell upon that tongue,
Whose speech is tuneful as another's fong!
Such harmony! fuch wit a face fo fair!
So many pointed arrows who can bear?
Who from her wit, or from her beauty flies,
If with her voice fhe overtakes him, dies.
Like foldiers fo in battle we fucceed,
One peril 'scaping, by another bleed;
In vain the dart, or glittering fword we fhun,
Condemd'd to perish by the flaughtering gun!

MYRA.

AT A REVIEW OF THE GUARDS IN HYDE-PARK. LET meaner beauties conquer fingly ftill, But haughty Myra will by thousands kill; Through armed ranks triumphantly the drives, And with one glance commands a thousand lives: The trembling heroes, nor refilt, nor fly, But at the head of all their fquadrons die.

TO MYRA.

NATURE indulgent, provident and kind,
In all things that excel, fome use design'd;
The radiant fun, of every heavenly light
The first (did Myra not difpute that right)
Sends from above ten thousand bleflings down
Nor is he fet fo high for fhow alone,
His beams reviving with aufpicious fire,
Freely we all enjoy what all admire:

The moon and ftars, thofe faithful guides of night;
Are plac'd to help, not entertain the sight :
Plants, fruits, and flowers the fertile fields produce,
Not for vain ornament, but wholesome use';

Health they restore, and nourishment they give, We fee with pleasure, but we taste to live.

Then think not, Myra, that thy form was meant
More to create defire, than to content;
Would the juft gods fo many charms provide
Only to gratify a mortal's pride?

Would they have form'd thee fo above thy fex,
Only to play the tyrant, and to vex?
'Tis impious pleasure to delight in harm,
And beauty should be kind, as well as charm.

THE PROGRESS OF BEAUTY.

THE God of day defcending from above,
Mixt with the fea, and got the queen of love.
Beauty, that fires the world, 'twas fit fhould rife
From him alone who lights the stars and skies.
In Cyprus long, by men and gods obey'd,
The lover's toil the gratefully repaid,
Promifcuous bleffings to her flaves affign'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 fcorching warm.
Helen was next from Greece to Phrygia brought,
With much expence of blood and empire fought :
Beauty and love the noblest cause afford,
That can try valour, or employ the sword.
Not men alone incited by her charms,

But heaven's concern'd, and all the gods take arme.
The happy Trojan gloriously poffeft,
Enjoys the dame, and leaves to fate the reft.
Your cold reflections, moralifts, forbear,
His title's best who beft can please the fair.
And now the gods, in pity to the cares,
The fierce defires, distractions, and despairs
Of tortur'd men, while beauty was confin'd,
Refolv'd to multiply the charming kind.

Greece was the land where this bright race begun,

And faw a thousand rivals to the fun.

Hence follow'd arts, while each employ'd his care
In new productions to delight the fair;
To bright Afpasta Socrates retir'd,

His wildom grew but as his love infpir'd;
Thofe rocks and oaks which fuch emotions felt,
Were cruel maids whom Orpheus taught to melt;
Mufic, and fongs, and every way to move
The ravish'd heart, were feeds and plants of love.
The gods, entic'd by fo divine a birth,
Defcend from heaven to this new heaven 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; fome yield, fome fuffer

rapes,

Invaded, or deceiv'd, not one efcapes.

Phœbus laments for Hyacinthus dead,
And Juno jealous, ftorms at Ganymed.
Return, my mufe, and close that odious fcene,
Nor stain thy verfe with images unclean;
Of beauty fing, her fhining progrefs view,
From clime to clime the dazzling light purfue,
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 fuch features give,
The metal and the ftone may feem to live;
Defcribe the stars, and planetary way,
And trace the footsteps of eternal day :
Be this, my mufe, thy pleasure and thy care,
A flave to beauty, to record the fair.
Still wand'ring in love's sweet delicious maze,
To fing the triumphs of fome heavenly face,
Of lovely dames, who with a fmile or frown
Subdue the proud, the fuppliant lover crown.
From Venus down to Myra bring thy song,
To thee alone fuch tender tasks belong.

From Greece to Afric beauty takes her flight, And ripens with her near approach to light: Frown not, ye fair, to hear of fwarthy 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 fhine, in gold or filver fet, As precious and as sparkling are in jet. Here Cleopatra, with a liberal heart, Bounteous of love, improv'd the joy with art, The first who gave recruited flaves to know That the rich pearl was of more ufe than fhow, Who with high meats, or a luxurious draught, Kept love for ever flowing, and full fraught. Julius and Anthony, thofe 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 dazzled at her fight:
Nor was her death lefs glorious than her life,
A constant mistress, and a faithful wife;
Her dying truth fome generous tears would coft,
Had not her fate || infpir'd the world well loft;
With fecret pride the ravifh'd mufes view
The image of that death which Dryden drew.
Pleas'd in fuch happy climates, warın and bright,
Love for fome ages revel'd with delight;
The martial moors in gallantry refin'd,
Invent new arts to make their charmers kind;
See in the lifts, by golden barriers bound,

In warlike ranks they wait the the trumpet's

found;

Some love-device is wrought on every sword,

place

To mortal concubines of fresh embrace;
By fuch examples were we taught to fee
The life and foul of love, is fweet variety.

In those first times, ere charming womankind Reform'd their pleasures, polishing the mind, Rude were their revels, and obfcene their joys, The broils of drunkards, and the luft of boys; Vor. VII.

As when we see the winged winds engage,
Mounted on courfers, foaming flame and rage,
Ruftling from every quarter of the sky,
North, east, and weft, in airy fwiftnefs vie;
One cloud repuls'd, new combatants prepare
To meet as fierce, and form a thundering war:
||__ All for Love; or, The World well Loft: written by
Dryden.
Y y

So when the trumpet founding, gives the fign,
The juftling chiefs in rude rencounter join,
So meet, and fo renew the dextrous 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 fhining dame, whofe eyes
Aided his conqu'ring arm, receives a precious prize.
Thus flourish'd love, and beauty reign'd in ftate,
Till the proud Spaniard gave these glories date:
Paft is the gallantry, the fame remains,
Tranfmitted fafe in Dryden's lofty fcenes;
Granada loft, beheld her pomps reftor'd,
And Almahidet, once more by kings ador'd.
Love driven thence, to colder Britain flies,
And with bright nymphs the diftant fun fup-
plies;

Romances which relate the dreadful fights,
The loves and prowess of advent'rous knights;
To animate their rage, a kifs record
From Britain's fairelt nymph was the reward;
Thus ancient to love's empire was the claim
Of British beauty, and fo wide the fame,
Which, like our flag upon the feas, gives law
By right avow'd, and keeps the world in awe.

Our gallant kings, of whom large annals prove
The mighty deeds, ftand as renown'd for love :
A monarch's right o'er beauty they may claini,
Lords of that ocean from whence beauty came.
Thy Rofamond, great Henry, on the stage,
By a late mufe prefented in our age,
With aking hearts, and flowing eyes we view,
While that diffembled death prefents the true.
In Bracegirdles the perfons fo agree,
That all feems real the fpectators fee.

Of Scots and Gauls defeated, and their kings, Thy captives, Edward, fame for ever fings; Like thy high deeds, thy noble loves are prais'd, Who haft to love the nobleft trophy rais'd: Thy statues, Venus, though by Phidias's hand, Defign'd inmortal, yet no longer stand; The magic of thy fhining zone is past, But Salisbury's garter fhall for ever laft, Which through the world by living monarchs worn, Adds grace to fceptres, and does crowns adorn.

If such their fame who gave thefe rights divine To facred love, O! what difhonour's thine, Forgetful Queen, who fever'd that bright head Which charm'd two mighty monarchs to her bed? Hadft thou been born a man, thou hadst not err'd, 'Thy fame had liv'd, and beauty been preferr'd; But O! what mighty magic can assuage A woman's envy, and a bigot's rage?

Love tir'd at length, love, that delights to smile, Flying from fcenes of horror ¶, quits our ifle, With Charles, the Cupids and the Graces gone, In exile live, for love and Charles were one; With Charles he wanders, and for Charles be

As eager flames with oppofition 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 filent grove,
All, by the King's example, live and love;
The mufes with diviner voices fing;
And all rejoice to please the godlike King.

Then Waller in immortal verfe proclaims
The fhining court, and all the glittering dames;
Thy beauty, Sidney *, like Achilles' fword,
Refiftlefs, ftands upon as fure record;
The fierceft hero, and the brightest dame,
Both fung alike, fhall have their fate the fame.
And now, my muse, a nobler flight prepare,
And fing fo loud that heaven and earth may hear.
Behold from Italy an awful ray

Of heavenly light illuminates the day,
Northward the bends, majestically bright,
And here fhe fixes her imperial light.
Be bold, be bold, my mufe, nor fear to raise
Thy voice to her who was thy earliest praife;
What though the fullen fates refuse to shine,
Or frown severe on thy audacious line,
Keep thy bright theme within thy steady sight,
The clouds fhall fly before the dazzling light,
And everlasting day direct thy lofty flight.
Thou who has never yet put on disguise
To flatter faction, or defcend to vice;
Let no vain fear thy generous ardor tame,
But ftand erect, and found as loud as fame.

}

As when our eyes fome profpect would purfue, Defcending from a hill, looks round to view, Paffes o'er lawns and meadows till it gains Some favourite fpot, and fixing there, remains: With equal rapture my tranfported 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 fhall for ever live; Invok'd where e'er the British lion roars, Extended as the feas that gird the Eritifh fhores. The wife immortals in their feats above, To crown their labours, ftill 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 ftill thy Queen is kind, To lie but at whofe feet more glory brings Than 'tis to tread on fceptres, and on kings : Secure of empire in that beauteous breast, Who would not give their crowns to be fo bleft? Was Helen half fo fair, fo form'd for joy, Well chofe the Trojan, and well burnt was Troy. But ah! what ftrange viciffitudes of fate, What chance attends on every worldly state? As when the fkies were fack'd, the conquer'd gods Compell'd from heaven, forfook their bleft abodes; Wandering in woods, they hid from den to den, And fought their fafety in the shapes of men. As when the winds with kindling flames confpirc, The blaze increases, as they fan the fire;

* The Lady Dorothy Sidney, celebrated by Waller under the name of Sacharissa.

6

+

But cease, my mufe, thy colours are too faint, Hide with a veil thofe griefs which none can paint;

This fun is fet. But fee in bright array

What hofts of heavenly light recruit the day.
Love, in a fhining galaxy, appears

Triumphant still, and Grafton leads the Aars.
Ten thousand loves, ten thousand several ways
Invade adoring crowds, who die to gaze;
Her eyes refiftlefs as the fyrens voice,

So fweet'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 mufe to Sandwich flies!
Whose wit is piercing as her sparkling eyes:.
Ah! how the mounts, and spreads her airy wings,
And tunes her voice, when the of Ormond fings!
Of radiant Ormond, only fit to be
The fucceffor of beauteous Offory.

Richmond's a title, that but nam'd, implies
Majestic graces, and victorious eyes:

Fair Villiers first, then haughty Stuart came,
And Brudenel how no lefs adorns the name.
Dorfet already is immortal made

In Prior's verfe, nor needs a fecond aid.

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

Rupert of royal blood, with modeft grace, Blushes to hear the triumphs of her face.

Not Helen with St. Alban's might compare Nor let the mufe omit Scroop, Holais, and

Hare:

Hyde, Venus is; the graces are Kildaré.

Soft and delicious as a fouthern sky,

Are Dashwood's fmiles; when Darnley † frowns we die.

Careless §, but yet fecure of, conquest still,
Lu'son unaiming, never fails to kill;
Guiltless of pride to captivate, or fhine,
Bright without art, fhe wounds without defign:
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 fake;
Afferting the dominion of her eyes,
As heroes fight for glory, not for prize.

The skilful mufe's earliest care has been
The praise of never-fading Mazarine;
The poet and his theme, in spite of time,
For ever young, enjoy an endless prime.

With charms so numerous Myra does fuprife,
The lover knows not by which dart he dies;
So thick the volley, and the wound fo fure,
No flight can fave, no remedy can cure.

Yet dawning in her infancy of light,
O fee! another Brudenel heavenly bright,
Born to fulfil the glories of her line,
And fix love's empire in that race divine.

Fain would my mufe to Cecil + bend her fight, But turns aftonish'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 ftrong; These matchlefs beauties fhould recorded be. Immortal in my verfe, as in thy gallery §.

TO THE

COUNTESS OF NEWBURGH,
Infifting earnestly to be told who I meant by Myra.
WITH Myra's charms, and my extreme defpair,
Long had my mufe amaz'd the reader's ear.
My friends, with pity, heard the mournful found,
And all inquir'd from whence the fatal wound;
Th' aftonifh'd world beheld an endless flame,
Ne'er to be quench'd, unknowing whence it came ;
So fcatter'd fire from fcorch'd Vefuvius flies,
Unknown the fource from whence thofe flames
arife:

Ægyptian Nile fo fpreads its waters round,
O'erflowing far and near, its head unfound.

Myra herself, touch'd with the moving fong, Would needs be told to whom those plaints be

long;

My timorous tongue not daring to confefs,
Trembling to name, would fain have had her guess;
Impatient of excufe, fhe urges ftill,
Perüifts in her demand, fhe muft, fhe will;
If filent, I am threaten'd with her hate;
If I obey-Ah! what may be my fate?
Uncertain to conceal, or to unfold,
She fmiles-the goddefs fmiles-and I grow bold.
My vows to Myra, all were meant to thee,
The praife, the love, the matchlefs conftancy.
'Twas thus of old, when all th' immortal dames
Were grac'd by poets, each with feveral names;
For Venus, Cytherea was invok'd;

Altars for Pallas, to Tritonia smok'd.
Such names were theirs; and thou the most divine,
Moft lov'd of heav'nly beauties-Myra's thine.

THOUGHTFUL nights, and restless waking,
Oh, the pains that we endure !
Broken faith, unkind forfaking,
Ever doubting, never sure.
Hopes deceiving, vain endeavours,

What a race has love to run!
Falfe protesting, flecting favours,
Ev'ry, ev'ry way undone.
Still complaining, and defending,
Both to love, yet not agree;
Fears tormenting, paffion rending,
Oh! the pangs of jealousy !
From fuch painful ways of living,
Ah how fweet could love be free!
Still presenting, still receiving,
Fierce, immortal ecstasy.

SONG TO MYRA.

War fhould a heart fo tender, break?
O Myra' give its anguifh ease;
The nfe of beauty you mistake,
Not meant to vex, but pleafe.

Those lips for smiling were defign'd;
That bofom to be preft;

Your eyes to languish, and look kind; For amorous arms, your waist.

Each thing has its appointed right,

Establish'd by the pow'rs above, The fun to give us warmth, and light, Myra to kindle love.

TO MYRA.

SINCE truth and conftancy are vain, Since neither love nor fenfe o fpain, Nor force of reason can perfuade, Then let example be obey'd.

In courts and cities, could you fee
How well the wanton fools agree;
Were all the curtains drawn, you'd find
Not one, perhaps, but who is kind.
Minerva, naked from above,
With Venus and the wife of Jove,
Exposing ev'ry beauty bare,
Defcending to the Trojan heir;
Yet this was the whom poets name
Goddess of chastity and fame.

Penelope, her lord away,

Gave am'rous audiences all day;
Now round the bowl the fuitors fit,
With wine, provoking mirth and wit,
Then down they take the ftubborn bow,
Their ftrength, it seems, fhe needs must know.
Thus twenty cheerful winters past,
She's yet immortaliz'd for chaste.

Smile Myra, then, reward my flame,
And be as much fecure of fame;
By all those matchlefs beauties fir'd,
By my own matchless love inspir'd;
So will I fing, fuch wonders write,
That when th' aftonish'd world fhall cite
A nymph of spotless worth and fame,
Myra fhall be th' immortal name.

SONG TO MYRA.

FORSAKEN of my kindly stars,
Within this melancholy grove

I waste my days and nights in tears,
A victim to ingrateful love.

The happy ftill untimely end,

Death flies from grief, or why fhould i
So many hours in forrow fpend,
Wishing, alas! in vain to die?

Ye powers, take pity of my pain,
This, only this is my desire;
Ah! take from Myra her difdain,
Or let me with this figh expire.

TO MYRA.

WHEN Wilt thou break, my stubborn heart? O death! how flow to take my part! Whatever I pursue, denies,

Death, death itself, like Myra, flies.

Love and despair, like twins, poffeft
At the fame fatal birth my breast;
No hope could be, her fcorn was all
That to my deftin'd lot could fall.

I thought, alas! that love could dwell
But in warm climes, where no fnow fell;
Like plants, that kindly heat require,
To be maintain'd by conftant fire.
That without hope, 'twould die as foon,
A little hope-but I have none:
On air the poor camelions thrive,
Deny'd e'en that, my love can live.