When at your fecond coming you appear,
(For I foretel that millenary year)
The sharpen'd fhare fhall vex the foil no more,
But earth unbidden shall produce her store;
The land fhall laugh, the circling ocean fmile,
And heaven's indulgence bless the holy ifle.
Heaven from all ages has reserv'd for you
That happy clime, which venom never knew
Or if it had been there, your eyes alone
Have power to chase all poifon, but their own.
Now in this interval, which fate has cast
Betwixt your future glories and your past,
This paufe of power, 'tis Ireland's hour to mourn;
While England celebrates your fafe return,
By which feem the feafons to command,
And bring our fummers back to their forfaken land.
The vanquish'd isle our leisure must attend,
Till the fair bleffing we vouchsafe to send;
Nor can we spare you long, though often we may lend.
The dove was twice employ'd abroad, before
The world was dry'd, and fhe return'd no more.
Nor dare we truft fo foft a meffenger,
New from her fickness, to that northern air;
Reft here a while your luftre to restore,
That they may fee you, as you shone before;
For yet, th' eclipse not wholly past, you wade
Through fome remains, and dimness of a fhade.
A fubject in his prince may claim a right,
Nor fuffer him with ftrength impair'd to fight;
Till force returns, his ardor we restrain,
And curb his warlike wish to cross the main.
Now paft the danger, let the learn'd begin
Th' inquiry, where difeafe could enter in ;
How thofe malignant atoms forc'd their way,
What in the faultlefs frame they found to make their prey?
Where every element was weigh'd so well,
That heaven alone, who mix'd the mass, could tell
Which of the four ingredients could rebel;
And where, imprifon'd in fo fweet a cage,
A foul might well be pleas'd to pass an age.
And yet the fine materials made it weak :
Porcelain, by being pure, is apt to break :
Ev'n to your breast the sickness durft aspire;
And, forc'd from that fair temple to retire,
Profanely fet the holy place on fire.
In vain your lord like young Vefpafian mourn'd,
When the fierce flames the fan&tuary burn'd:
And I prepar'd to pay in verfes rude
A most detefted act of gratitude :
Ev'n this had been your elegy, which now
Is offer'd for your health, the table of
Your angel fure our Morley's mind inspir'd,
To find the remedy your ill requir'd;
As once the Macedon, by Jove's decree,
Was taught to dream an herb for Ptolomee:
Or heaven, which had fuch over-coft beftow'd,
As fcarce it could afford to flesh and blood,
So lik'd the frame, he would not work anew,
To fave the charges of another you.
Or by his middle fcience did he steer,
And faw fome great contingent good appear
Well worth a miracle to keep you here:
And for that end, preferv'd the precious mould,
Which all the future Ormonds was to hold;
And meditated in his better mind
An heir from you, which may redeem the failing kind.
Bleft be the power which has at once reftor'd
The hopes of loft fucceffion to your lord,
Joy to the first and last of each degree,
Virtue to courts, and, what I long'd to fee,
Το
you the Graces, and the Mufe to me.
O daughter of the rofe, whofe cheeks unite
The differing titles of the red and white;
Who heaven's alternate beauty well difplay,
The blufh of morning and the milky way;
Whofe face is paradife, but fenc'd from fin:
For God in either eye has plac'd a cherubin.
All is your lord's alone; ev'n abfent, he
Employs the care of chafte Penelope.
For him you waste in tears your widow'd hours,
For him your curious needle paints the flowers;
Such works of old Imperial dames were taught ;
Such, for Afcanius, fair Elifa wrought.
The foft receffes of your hours improve
The three fair pledges of your happy love:
All other parts of pious duty done,
You owe your Ormond nothing but a fon;
To fill in future times his father's place,
And wear the garter of his mother's race.
N days of old, there liv'd, of mighty fame,
A valiant prince, and Thefeus was his name :
A chief who more in feats of arms excell'd,
The rifing nor the fetting fun beheld.
Of Athens he was lord; much land he won,
And added foreign countries to his crown.
In Scythia with the warrior queen he strove,
Whom firft by force he conquer'd, then by love;
He brought in triumph back the beauteous dame,
With whom her fifter, fair Emilia, came.
With honour to his home let Thefeus ride,
With love to friend, and fortune for his guide,
And his victorious army at his fide.
I pass their warlike pomp, their proud array,
Their fhouts, their fongs, their welcome on the way:
But, were it not too long, I would recite
The feats of Amazons, the fatal fight
Betwixt the hardy queen and hero knight;
The town befieg'd, and how much blood it coft
The female army and th' Athenian hoft;
The spousals of Hippolita the queen ;
What tilts and turneys at the feast were seen ;
The ftorm at their return, the ladies fear :
But these, and other things, I must forbear.
The field is fpacious I design to sow,
With oxen far unfit to draw the plow:
The remnant of my tale is of a length
To tire your patience, and to waste my strength;
And trivial accidents fhall be forborn,
That others may have time to take their turn;
As was at firft enjoin'd us by mine hoft:
That he whofe tale is beft, and pleases moft,
Should win his fupper at our common cost.
And therefore where I left, I will pursue
This ancient ftory, whether falfe or true,
In hope it may be mended with a new.
The prince I mention'd, full of high renown,
In this array drew near th' Athenian town;
When in his pomp and utmost of his pride,
Marching he chanc'd to caft his eye afide,
And faw a choir of mourning dames, who lay
By two and two across the common way:
At his approach they rais'd a rueful cry,
And beat their breafts, and held their hands on high,, Creeping and crying, till they feiz'd at last
His courfer's bridle, and his feet embrac'd.
Tell me, faid Thefeus, what and whence you are, And why this funeral pageant you prepare ? Is this the welcome of my worthy deeds, To meet my triumph in ill-omen'd weeds ? Or envy you my praife, and would destroy With grief my pleafures, and pollute my joy?
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