ODES, SONGS,

AND

LYRICAL PIECES.

FAREWELL, FAIR ARMIDA.

A SONG.

This Song was written on the death of Captain Digby, a younger son of the Earl of Bristol, who was killed in the great seafight between the English and the Dutch, on the 28th May 1672. The relentless beauty to whom the lines were addressed was Frances Stuart, Duchess of Richmond, called in the "Mémoires de Grammont," La Belle Stuart. Count Hamilton there assures us that her charms made conquest of Charles II., and were the occasion of much jealousy to the Countess of Castlemaine. Dryden's song is parodied in "The Rehearsal," in that made by "Tom Thimble's first wife after she was dead." "Farewell, fair Armida" is printed in the "Covent Garden Drollery," 1672, p. 16, where there is an exculpatory answer by the Lady, but of little merit. [It should be said that this Song is attributed to Dryden on conjectural grounds only. The answer in Covent Garden Drollery is as follows

Blame not your Armida, nor call her your grief;
'Twas honour, not she, that denied you relief.
Abuse not her virtue nor call it severe ;

Who loves without honour must meet with despair.

Now prompted by pity, I truly lament

And mourn for your fall which I could not prevent;
I languish to think that your blood should defray
The expense of a fall, though so noble a way.

In seas and in battles that you did expire
Was the effect of your valour, not hopeless desire;
Of the fame you acquired I greedily hear,
And grieve when I think that it cost you so dear.
And when dismal fate did your body convey
By my window your funeral rites for to pay,
I sigh that your fate I could not reverse,
And all my kind wishes I show on your hearse.

There is no more reason, as Christie justly observes, for the attribution of one to Dryden than of the other. Scott followed Malone, whose sole reason was the parody in The Rehearsal, a very insufficient one. The first is pretty, but not in any way specially Drydenian.—ED.]

I.

FAREWELL, fair Armida, my joy and my grief!
In vain I have loved you, and hope no relief;
Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe,
Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair:
Now called by my honour, I seek with content
The fate which in pity you would not prevent:
To languish in love were to find, by delay,
A death that's more welcome the speediest way.

II.

On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire,
The danger is less than in hopeless desire;
My death's wound you give me, though far off
I bear

My fall from your sight-not to cost you a tear :
But if the kind flood on a wave should convey,
And under your window my body should lay,
The wound on my breast when you happen to see,
You'll say with a sigh-it was given by me.

THE

FAIR STRANGER.

A SONG.

These verses are addressed to Louise de la Querouaille. That lady came to England with the Duchess of Orleans, when she visited her brother Charles II. in 1670. The beauty of this fair stranger made the intended impression on Charles; he detained her in England, and created her Duchess of Portsmouth. Notwithstanding the detestation in which she was held by his subjects, on account of her religion, country, and politics, she continued to be Charles's principal favourite till the very hour of his death, when he recommended her and her son to his successor's protection. [The proper name of this lady, whose appellations in print range from Querouailles to Carwell, was Louise Renée de Penancöet de Keroual. She was a Breton. There is no proof that this poem was addressed to her. It appeared in 1701, in A New Miscellany, but not in the folio.—ED.]

I.

HAPPY and free, securely blest,
No beauty could disturb my rest;
My amorous heart was in despair
To find a new victorious fair: