For poets frequent inroads there had made, The shape, the face, with every lineament, 100 And all the large domains which the Dumb Sister sway'd. All bow'd beneath her government, Receiv'd in triumph wheresoe'er she went. 105 The sylvan scenes of herds and flocks, Of shallow brooks that flow'd so clear 110 The bottom did the top appear; Of deeper too and ampler floods, 115 Boasting the power of ancient Rome, or Greece, Whose statues, friezes, columns broken lie, And, though defac'd, the wonder of the eye; What nature, art, bold fiction, e'er durst frame, Her forming hand gave feature to the name. So strange a concourse ne'er was seen before, But when the peopled ark the whole creation bore. VII. The scene then chang'd, with bold erected look Our martial king the sight with reverence strook : For not content to express his outward part, Her hand call'd out the image of his heart: His warlike mind, his soul devoid of fear, His high designing thoughts were figur'd there, As when, by magic, ghosts are made appear. 130 Our phoenix queen was portray'd too so bright, Were all observ'd, as well as heavenly face. Before a train of heroines was seen, In beauty foremost, as in rank, the queen. Still with a greater blaze she shone, 135 140 And her bright soul broke out on every side. 145 What next she had design'd, heaven only knows : To such immoderate growth her conquest rose, That fate alone its progress could VIII. oppose. Now all those charms, that blooming grace, The well proportion'd shape, and beauteous face, Not wit, nor piety could fate prevent; To sweep at once her life, and beauty too; To work more mischievously slow, And plunder'd first, and then destroy'd. O double sacrilege on things divine, But thus Orinda died: 155 160 Heaven, by the same disease, did both translate; As equal were their souls, so equal was their fate. IX. Meantime her warlike brother on the seas 165 His waving streamers to the winds displays, And vows for his return with vain devotion pays. Ah, generous youth, that wish forbear, 170 The winds too soon will waft thee here! Slack all thy sails, and fear to come, Alas, thou know'st not thou art wreck'd at home! No more shalt thou behold thy sister's face, V. 162. But thus Orinda died] The matchless Orinda, Mrs. Katherine Philips, was author of a book of poems published in folio, and wrote several other things. She died also of the small pox in 1664, being only thirty-two years of age. She was a woman of an indifferent appearance; but of great virtue, taste, and erudition, which endeared her to the first The Duke of Ormond, the Earls of Orrery and Roscommon, Lady Corke, &c. Mr. Dryden, Mr. Cowley, &c. &c. were all her friends. D. people of the age. Thou hast already had her last embrace, X. 175 When in mid air the golden trump shall sound, The judging God shall close the book of fate; For those who wake and those who sleep: From the four corners of the sky; When sinews o'er the skeletons are spread, 180 185 Those cloth'd with flesh, and life inspires the dead; The sacred poets first shall hear the sound, And foremost from the tomb shall bound, For they are cover'd with the lightest ground; And straight, with in-born vigour, on the wing, Like mountain larks, to the new morning sing. There thou, sweet saint, before the quire shall go, As harbinger of heaven, the way to show, The way which thou so well hast learnt below. 195 UPON THE DEATH OF THE EARL OF DUNDEE. Он last and best of Scots! who didst maintain 5 V. 1. Oh last and best] The conduct and death of this truly valiant chieftain is described with much eloquence and animation in his account of the important battle at Killikranky, by Sir John Dalrymple, in the first volume of his Memoirs. Dundee, being wounded by a musket-ball, rode off the field, desiring his mischance to be concealed, and fainting, dropped from his horse; as soon as he was recovered, he desired to be raised, looked to the field, and asked, 'How things went?' Being told, 'All well;' then said he, 'I am well,' and expired. Dr. J. W. |