John Gay, “Panthea. An Elegy”

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JOHN GAY

“Panthea. An Elegy”

 

Long had Panthea felt Love’s secret smart,
And hope and fear alternate rul’d her heart;
Consenting glances had her flame confest.
(In woman’s eyes her very soul’s exprest)
Perjur’d Alexis saw the blushing maid,                                             5
He saw, he swore, he conquer’d and betray’d:
Another love now calls him from her arms,
His fickle heart another beauty warms;
Those oaths oft’whisper’d in Panthea’s ears,
He now again to Galatea swears.                                                     10
Beneath a beech th’ abandon’d virgin laid,
In grateful solitude enjoys the shade;
There with faint voice she breath’d these moving strains,
While sighing Zephyrs shar’d her am’rous pains.

Pale settled sorrow hangs on upon my brow,                       15
Dead are my charms; Alexis, breaks his vow!
Think, think, dear shepherd, on the days you knew,
When I was happy, when my swain was true;
Think how thy looks and tongue are form’d to move,
And think yet more—that all my fault was love.                           20
Ah, could you view me in this wretched state!
You might not love me, but you could not hate.
Could you behold me in this conscious shade,
Where first thy vows, where first my love was paid,
Worn out with watching, sullen with despair,                              25
And see each eye swell with a gushing tear?
Could you behold me on this mossy bed,
From my pale cheek the lively crimson fled,
Which in my softer hours you oft’ have sworn,
With rosie beauty far out-blush’d the morn;                                30
Could you untouch’d this wretched object bear,
And would not lost Panthea claim a tear?
You could not sure—tears from your eyes would steal,
And unawares thy tender soul reveal.
Ah, no!—thy soul with cruelty is fraught,                                      35
No tenderness disturbs thy savage thought;
Sooner shall tigers spare the trembling lambs,
And wolves with pity hear with their bleating dams;
Sooner shall vultures from their quarry fly,
Than false Alexis for Panthea sigh.                                                  40
Thy bosom ne’er a tender thought confest,
Sure stubborn flint had arm’d thy cruel breast;
But hardest flints are worn by frequent rains,
And the soft drops dissolve their solid veins;
While thy relentless heart more hard appears,                            45
And is not soften’d by a flood of tears.

Ah, what is love! Panthea’s joys are gone,
Her liberty, her peace, her reason flown!
And when I view me in the watry glass,
I find Panthea now, not what she was.                                           50
As northern winds the new-blown roses blast,
And on the ground their fading ruins cast;
As sudden blights corrupts the ripen’d grain,
And of its verdure spoil the mournful plain;
So hapless love on blooming features preys,                               55
So hapless love destroys our peaceful days.

Come, gentle sleep, relieve these weary’d eyes,
All sorrow in thy soft embraces dies:
There, spite of all thy perjur’d vows, I find
Faithless Alexis languishingly kind;                                                 60
Sometimes he leads me by the mazy stream,
And pleasingly deludes me in my dream;
Sometimes he guides me to the secret grove,
Where all our looks, and all our talk is love.
Oh, could I thus consume each tedious day,                               65
And in sweet slumbers dream my life away;
But sleep, which now no more relieves these eyes,
To my sad soul the dear deceit denies.

Why does the sun dart forth his cheerful rays?
Why do the woods resound with warbling lays?                          70
Why does the rose her grateful fragrance yield,
And the yellow cowslips paint the smiling field?
Why do the streams with murm’ring musick flow,
And why do groves their friendly shade bestow?
Let sable clouds the cheerful sun deface,                                    75
Let mournful silence seize the feather’d race;
No more, ye roses, grateful fragrance yield,
Droop, droop, ye cowslips, in the blasted field;
No more, ye streams, with murm’ring musick flow,
And let not groves a friendly shade bestow:                                80
With sympathizing grief let nature mourn,
And never know the youthful spring’s return;
And shall I never more Alexis see?
Then what is spring, or grove or stream to me?

Why sport the skipping lambs on yonder plain?                  85
Why do the birds their tuneful voice strain?
Why frisk those heifers in cooling grove?
Their happier life is ignorant of love.

Oh! lead me to some melancholy cave,
To lull my sorrow in a living grave;                                                90
From the dark rock where dashing waters fall,
And creeping ivy hangs the craggy wall,
Where I may waste in tears my hours away,
And never know the seasons or the day.
Die, die, Panthea—fly in this hateful grove,                                 95
For what is life without the Swain I love?

NOTES:

Title  Panthea  This name means “of all gods” in Greek.

1  smart  “Mental suffering, sorrow” (OED).

10  Galatea  “In Greek mythology, a Nereid who was loved by the Cyclops Polyphemus. Galatea, however, loved the youth Acis” (Britannica).

14  Zephyrs  Greek god of gentle winds.

18  swain  “Lover” (OED).

39  quarry  Here a reference to the vulture’s “prey” or carrion (OED).

42  flint  “Hard stone” (OED).

45  hard  “Unyielding” (OED).

49  watry glass  Water serving as a mirror.

51  northern winds  Refers to Boreas, Greek god of the cold northern winds.

61  mazy  “Twisting” (OED).

70  warbling  “Singing with sweet quavering notes” (OED).

72  cowslips  “Well-known plant in pastures and grassy banks, blossoming in spring” (OED).

87  heifers  “Young cows” (OED).

92  craggy  “Hard and rough” (OED).

SOURCE: Poems on Several Occasions: Volume 2 (London, 1737), pp. 109-113. [Google Books]

Edited by Joanna Tran

 

 

 

 

Mary Masters, “The Vanity of Human Life”

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MARY MASTERS

“The Vanity of Human Life”

 

Ah! what is Life? how mutable and vain!
An Hour of Pleasure, and an Age of Pain.
Where changing Seasons are but vary’d Woes,
And with each Morning early Sorrow flows.
The busy Mind, with adverse Passions rent,                                 5
Still searches on, a Stranger to Content.
One Hour in gay and sprightly Mirth is pass’d,
The next with melancholy Shades o’ercast.
Alternate Joy, alternate Grief we know,
Yet scarce can tell, whence these Excesses flow.                         10
Elate to Day, we laugh and play and sing,
To-morrow sees a wretched, abject Thing.
With deep dejecting Cares we lie opprest,
And pensive Thoughts disturb the gloomy Breast.
Till other Thoughts revolve to our Relief,                                       15
And fansy’d Joys elude a real Grief.
Flatt’ring ourselves, we fond Ideas frame
Of Human Happiness, an empty Dream.
Yet Man, whom ev’ry Show of Bliss deceives,
Full Credit to the soothing Image gives.                                          20

We’ve found (at least we think so) what, alone,
Can give the longing Mind a Peace unknown :
Had we but That, ‘twou’d certain Ease restore,
Grant it, ye Pow’rs, and we desire no more.
Yet if kind Fate the wish’d-for Blessing grant,                                25
We’re still dissatisfy’d, and something want :
Then, with repeated Care and anxious Pain,
We seek another Trifle to attain ;
Our wonted Vigilance and Toil renew,
To gain the glorious Thing we have in view.                                   30
And, if we do the mighty Something get,
Again are we deceiv’d, ‘tis all a Cheat.
Nor will this second Disappointment prove
Severe enough, our Folly to remove.
Still with a discontented, restless Mind,                                          35
We search for That, which we can never find.
Erring before, we mourn’d; but, now, are sure
We know, what will a lasting Joy secure.

And did we err before? so err we now,
If we expect true Happiness below.                                                  40
Should Heav’n, indulgent, lavish all its Store,
And give so largely we could wish no more;
This surely would our wayward Fancy please,
And bring our weary, lab’ring Spirits Ease.
We should indeed be blest, should for a While,                              45
Our Hopes with transitory Rest beguile.
Forgetful of the Pow’r Supreme, that may,
When-e’er he pleases, snatch our Joys away.
Ah foolish Mortals, credulous and vain!
Prepare to meet the quick-returning Pain:                                       50
Still let us keep FUTURITY in View,
The Hand that gave the Gift, can take it too.

But cannot Gold afford a full Delight?
How the rich Metal glitters to the Sight!
O dazling Lustre! what would we not do,                                         55
What Toils not take, what Dangers not pursue,
For much of Thee, thou bright deluding Ill!
And in the warm Pursuit advance unweary’d still?

In search of Toys, we precious Moments waste,
For Wealth has Wings, and often flies in haste.                              60
The mighty Man, with ample Fortunes blest,
Of pond’rous Bags and stately Domes possest;
At Noon replete with all his Soul’s Desire,
At Night impov’rish’d by destructive Fire.
Such things may be, for such have often been,                              65
A thousand fatal Mischiefs lurk unseen.

The busy Merchant trafficks o’er the Main,
And rifles foreign Countries for his Gain.
Nor Earth nor Water from his Spoils are free,
To heap up Gold, he’ll compass Land and Sea.                              70
Behold him, waiting at the Ocean’s side,
While Ships from India break the flashing Tide:
Now one, long wish’d for with impatient Thought,
Is by his friendly Glass in Prospect brought.
Freighted with Gold and Silks of various Dyes,                              75
And in her Womb an Ivory Treasure lies.
See, what calm Seas, and what propitious Gales,
Support her Keel, and swell her flying Sails!
His Thoughts flow quicker, and his Heart beats high,
His Joys increasing as the Barque draws nigh.                               80
When lo! a sudden Change the Air invades,
And the Clouds thicken into sullen Shades:
Fierce Tempests beat, and angry Billows roar,
Distracting Sight to him that stands on shore.
Just ready to cast Anchor near the Coast,                                       85
Sad Terror to his soul! the Ship is lost.

Oh false and slipp’ry State of human Things!
What sad Distress one hapless Moment brings!

So JOB with more than orient Brightness drest,
The Pride and Worship of the wondring East;                               90
Sought by the Old, and honour’d by the Young,
The list’ning Ear paid Homage to his Tongue;
Princes arose, when he appear’d in Sight,
And the charm’d Eye beheld him with Delight.
For, Years he liv’d, with Health and Glory crown’d,                       95
And, like a God, dispens’d his Blessings round.
On either Hand, his Sons and Daughters sate,
And help’d to swell the Fullness of his State.
Yet this consummate Grandeur prov’d in vain,
For all was chang’d to Poverty and Pain,                                       100
His Honour blasted, and his Children slain.
Sprinkled with Dust, and prostrate on the Earth,
In Bitterness of Soul he curs’d his Birth.

Oh Impotence of Wealth! can ought avail,
Where Gold, Magnificence, and Empire fail?                                  105

Yes, something more substantial yet remains,
A Sovereign Med’cine for severest Pains:
When great Afflictions overwhelm the Mind,
When ev’ry Faculty’s to Grief resign’d;
When the whole Soul is sunk in deep Distress,                              110
FRIENDSHIP’S soft Pow’r can make its Sorrows less;
That nearest Emblem of indulgent Heav’n,
To sweeten Life’s predestin’d Ills, was giv’n.
A faithful Friend is our extremest Good,
The richest Gift, that ever Heav’n bestow’d.                                     115
When the prest Bosom heaves with weighty Cares,
This kind Companion half the Burden bears:
With healing Counsel mitigates our Woe,
Or wisely teaches how to bear the Blow.
Our Pleasures too the much-lov’d Friend divides,                          120
Adds Joy to Joy, and swells the happy Tides.

Pleas’d with my Subject, more than fond of Fame,
I much could say on this delightful Theme.
But ‘tis too copious and sublime a Strain,
More fit for YOUNG, or POPE’S unbounded Vein.                          125
The brightest Numbers that were ever penn’d,
Should celebrate the just and gen’rous Friend.
On me would partial Fortune this bestow,
‘Tis all the Happiness I’d ask below.
Yet, of a Treasure so immense possest,                                           130
Vainly we hope to be for ever blest.
Still are we govern’d by inconstant Fate,
And the first Turn may change our pleasing State:
May force us (tho’ with deep Regret) to part
From the dear, trusted Inmate of our Heart.                                   135

Oh Agony of Thought! what Breast can bear
So vast a Shock, or who the Grief declare?

DAVID alone the great Distress could paint,
And in fit Language form the just Complaint.
To his dear JONATHAN due Rites he paid,                                        140
He lov’d him living, and he mourn’d him dead.
Mourn’d him in such a graceful, moving Strain,
As all admire, and emulate in vain.
His sweet, pathetick Sorrows finely show,
The noblest Heights of Tenderness and Woe.                                  145
While sacred Leaves record the pious Theme,
A lasting Monument to Friendship’s Name.

Sometimes we more exalting Joys pursue,
And Pleasures charm us in a diff’rent View.
One beauteous Form has struck upon the Mind,                             150
A sweet Impression, casual, or design’d.
To one fix’d Centre all our Wishes move,
And the transported Heart rebounds with Love.
In that fond Passion we expect to meet
A full Content, a Happiness complete.                                               155
Then, with glad Toil and with incessant Care,
We strive to gain what seems so wond’rous fair.
Whilst the dear Object, we most highly prize,
Rejects our Vows, and mocks our promis’d Joys.
And sure we can no greater Torment prove,                                    160
Than cold Disdain repaid for constant Love.

But should our Passion meet a just Return,
And either Breast with mutual Ardor burn,
Some unforeseen Misfortune may divide,
Those faithful Hearts, which equal Love has ty’d.                           165
Then, who can dictate, or what Words can show
The agonizing Pain, the pungent Woe?

But we’ll suppose a milder Fortune still,
A present Pleasure and a distant Ill:
Our Wishes crown’d, the Prize obtain’d at last,                               170
The bright Reward of all our Labours past:
The Danger over, and absolv’d the Vow,
O, Joy too great! what can afflict us now?
Yet Time’s frail Glass is fill’d with flitting Sand,
And held too in a paralytick Hand.                                                    175
That soon may break, or That may quickly run,
Which holds a Life more precious than our own,
And then alas the Hour of Joy is done.

So JACOB, after being blest for Years,
Fair RACHEL mourn’d with unavailing Tears.                                   180
She, for whose Sake his Youth and Strength he gave,
And fourteen annual Circles liv’d a Slave;
Breathless and cold before her Lover laid,
Snatch’d from his Arms and number’d with the Dead.

And, thus, we see, ‘tis evidently plain,                                        185
What-e’er depends on Life, is weak and vain.
Gold is too fleeting, Friendship’s healing Pow’r
May be dissolv’d in one destructive Hour.
That Love’s fantastick Bliss is not sincere,
That Human Life is Hope, and Doubt, and Fear,                              190
A little Pleasure and a Load of Care.

NOTES:

1  mutable  “Liable or subject to change or alteration” (OED).

12  abject  “Cast off, rejected” (OED).

29  wonted  “Accustomed, customary, usual” (OED).

41  Store  “Sufficient or abundant supply” (OED).

46  beguile  “Deceive” (OED).

47  Pow’r Supreme  God.

62  Domes  “Stately buildings, mansions” (OED).

80  Barque  “A small ship” (OED).

89  JOB  Masters is paraphrasing chapters 1-3 from the Book of Job.

99  consummate  “Completed, perfected” (OED).

125  YOUNG  Edward Young (1683-1765), whose series of satires, The Universal Passion (1725-28) were much admired; POPE  Alexander Pope (1688-1744), whose Moral Essays began appearing in 1731.

138  DAVID  King of Israel (I Samuel 18:1-3).

140  JONATHAN  Son of Saul; see II Samuel 1:17-27 for David’s lament at the death of his friend.

163  Ardor  “Heat of passion or desire” (OED).

179-80  JACOB…RACHEL  Jacob was tricked by his uncle Laban into working fourteen years to win Rachel in marriage.  Masters is paraphrasing Genesis 29:15-30.

SOURCE: Poems on Several Occasions (London, 1733), pp. 193-205.  [Google Books]

Edited by Hailey Franzese

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert Luck, “The Dry Joke”

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ROBERT LUCK

“The Dry Joke”

 

God Bacchus well warm’d,
With Beauty was charm’d;
And Cupid’s bright Mother addrest.
She cry’d, you are silly ——
I hate you — nor will I                                          5
Be thus by a Toper carest.

Thus slighted the God,
With an angry Nod,
Said , Adieu to you, Madam — in vain
You’ll try to allure me:                                          10
Your Pride shall secure me,
From Courting coy Beauty again.

What Bacchus then spoke,
She hop’d was in joke:
And again Wine and Love wou’d agree.                    15
But he, as malicious
As she was capricious,
Her Error soon made her to see.

For Nymphs sweet as May,
All met at a Play;                                                     20
Where each was as fine as a Queen.
In each lovely Creature,
Art yielded to Nature;
Tho’ deck’d all in Jewels are seen.

Apollo was there,                                                    25
To charm e’ery ear;
But (what a mild Dove wou’d provoke.)
The Beaus who appear’d on
The Stage, slily lear’d on;
And left the fair Circle to choke.                                  30

Now Venus in vain,
Does to Bacchus complain,
That Beauty was dying with thirst.
The God reply’d, smiling,
Her Coyness reviling ——                                     35
Why did you provoke me then first?

O ye Ladies, beware,
Be as kind as you’re fair;
Nor requite your fond Slaves with disdain.
A Lover defeated,                                                   40
With vengeance is hated;
And Mischief still runs in his Brain.

NOTES:

1  Bacchus  “The god of wine” (OED).

3  Cupid  “In Roman Mythology, the god of love, son of Mercury and Venus” (OED).

6  Toper  “One who topes or drinks a great deal; a drunkard” (OED).

25  Apollo  Greek god of sun, light, music and poetry.

28  Beaus  “A man who gives particular, or excessive, attention to dress, mien, and social etiquette; a dandy” (OED).

31  Venus  The ancient Roman goddess of beauty and love.

SOURCE:  A Miscellany of new Poems, on Several Occasions (London, 1736), pp. 56-58.  [Google Books]

Edited by Ivan Li

William Broome, “Courage in Love”

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WILLIAM BROOME

“Courage in Love”

 

My Eyes with Floods of Tears o’erflow,
My Bosom heaves with constant Woe;
Those Eyes, which thy Unkindess swells,
That Bosom, where thy Image dwells!

How could I hope so weak a Flame                                     5
Could ever warm that matchless Dame,
When none Elysium must behold,
Without a radiant Bough of Gold?
‘Tis hers, in Spheres to shine,
At distance to admire, is mine:                                                    10
Doom’d, like th’ enamour’d Youth, to groan
For a new Goddess form’d of Stone.

While thus I spoke, Love’s gentle Pow’r
Descended from th’ Aethereal Bow’r;
A Quiver at his Shoulder hung,                                                    15
A Shaft he grasp’d, and Bow unstrung.
All Nature own’d and genial God,
And the Spring flourish’d where he trod:
My Heart, no Stranger to the Guest,
Flutter’d, and labour’d in my Breast;                                           20
When with a Smile that kindles Joy
Ev’n in the Gods, began the Boy:

How vain these Tears? is Man decreed,
By being abject, to succeed?
Hop’st thou by meagre Looks to move?                                      25
Are Women frighten’d into Love?
He most prevails who nobly dares;
In Love an Hero, as in Wars:
Ev’n Venus may be known to yield,
But ‘tis when Mars disputes the Field:                                         30
Sent from a daring Hand my Dart
Strikes deep into the Fair-one’s Heart:
To Winds and Waves thy Cares bequeath,
A Sign, is but a waste of Breath:
What tho’ gay Youth, and every Grace                                         35
That Beauty boasts, adorn her Face,
Yet Goddesses have deign’d to wed,
And take a Mortal to their Bed:
And Heav’n, when Gifts of Incense rise,
Accepts it, tho’ it cloud their Skies.                                                40

Mark! how this Marygold conceals
Her Beauty, and her Bosom veils,
How from the dull Embrace she flies
Of Phoebus, when his Beams arise;
But when his Glory he displays,                                                      45
And darts around his fiercer Rays,
Her Charms she opens, and receives
The vigorous God into her Leaves.

NOTES:

7  Elysium  “The supposed state or abode of the blessed after death in Greek mythology” (OED).

11  Youth  “Polyderus, who pined to death for the Love of a beautiful Statue” [Author’s note].

13  Love’s gentle Pow’r  Cupid.

14   Aethereal   “Of or relating to heaven, God, or the gods; heavenly, celestial” (OED).

29  Venus  “Roman goddess of beauty and love” (OED).

30  Mars  “The god of war of the ancient Romans” (OED).

41  Marygold  “A plant with golden or yellow flowers” (OED).

44  Phoebus  “Apollo as the god of light or of the sun; the sun personified” (OED).

SOURCE: Poems on Several Occasions, Second Edition (London, 1739), pp. 226-229.  [Google Books]

Edited by Charlie May

 

 

Mary Leapor, “The Temple of Love”

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MARY LEAPOR

“The Temple of Love”

 

 When lonely Night compos’d the drowsy Mind,
And hush’d the Bosom of the weary Hind,
Pleas’d with plain Nature and with simple Life,
I read the Scenes of Shore’s deluded Wife,
Till my faint Spirits sought a silent Bed,                                            5
And on its Pillow drop’d my aking Head;
Then Fancy ever to her Mira kind,
Prepar’d her Phantoms for the roving Mind.

Behold a Fabrick rising from the Ground,
To the soft Timbrel and the Cittern’s Sound:                                   10
Corinthian Pillars the vast Building hold,
Of polish’d Silver and Peruvian Gold;
In four broad Arches spread the shining Doors,
The blazing Roofs enlighten all the Floors:
Beneath a sparkling Canopy that shone                                           15
With Persian Jewels, like a Morning Sun
Wrap’d in a Robe of purest Tyrian Dye,
Cythera’s Image met the ravish’d Eye,
Whose glowing Features wou’d in Paint beguile:
So well the Artist drew her mimick Smile;                                        20
Her shining Eyes confess’d a sprightly Joy;
Upon her Knees reclin’d her wanton Boy;
On the bright Walls, around her and above,
Were drawn the Statutes and the Arts of Love:
These taught the silent Language of the Eye,                                   25
The broken Whisper and amusing Lye;
The careless Glance peculiar to the Fair,
And Vows for Lovers, that dissolve in Air;
The graceful Anger, and the rolling Eyes;
The practis’d Blush and counterfeit Surprise,                                   30
The Language proper for pretending Swains;
And fine Description for imagin’d Pains;
The friendly Caution and designing Ease,
And all the Arts that ruin while they please.

Now entred, follow’d by a splendid Train,                                   35
A blooming Damsel and a wealthy Swain;
The gaudy Youth in shining Robes array’d,
Behind him follow’d the unthinking Maid:
Youth in her Cheek like op’ning Roses sprung,
Her careless Tresses on her Shoulders hung.                                    40
Her Smiles were chearful as enliv’ning May;
Her Dress was careless, and her Eyes were gay;
Then to soft Voices and melodious Sound
The Board was spread, the sparkling Glasses crown’d:
The sprightly Virgin in a Moment shines                                              45
In the gay Entrails of the eastern Mines;
Then Pride comes in with Patches for the Fair,
And spicy Odours for her curling Hair:
Rude Riot in a crimson Vest array’d,
With smooth-fac’d Flatt’ry like a Chamber-maid:                                50
Soft Pomp and Pleasure at her Elbow stand,
And Folly shakes the Rattles in her Hand.

But now her feeble Structure seem’d to shake,
Its Basis trembl’d and its Pillars quake;
Then rush’d Suspicion through the lofty Gate,                                   55
With heart-fick Loathing led by ghastly Hate;
And foaming Rage, to close the horrid Band,
With a drawn Poniard in her shaking Hand.
Now like an Earthquake shook the reeling Frame,
The Lamps extinguish in a purple Flame:                                            60
One universal Groan was heard, and then
The Cries of Women and the Voice of Men:
Some roar out Vengeance, some for Mercy call;
And Shrieks and Tumult fill the dreadful Hall.

At length the Spectres vanish’d from my Sight,                            65
Again the Lamps resum’d a feeble Light;
But chang’d the Place: No Splendor there was shown,
But gloomy Walls that Mirth had never known;
For the gay Dome where Pleasure us’d to dwell,
Appear’d an Abbey and a doleful Cell;                                                    70
And here the sad, the ruin’d Nymph was found,
Her Robe disorder’d and her Locks unbound,
While from her Eyes the pearly Drops of Woe,
Wash’d her pale Cheek where Roses us’d to blow:
Her blue and trembling Lips prepar’d to breathe                                 75
The Sighs that made her swelling Bosom heave;
Thus stupid with her Grief she sat and prest
Her lily Hands across her pensive Breast;
A Group of ghastly Phantoms stood behind,
Whose Task it is to wreck the guilty Mind:                                              80
Wide-mouth’d Reproach with Visage rude and thin,
And hissing Scandal made a hideous Din;
Remorse that darted from her deadly Wings,
Invenom’d Arrows and a thousand Stings:
Then with pale Cheeks and with a ghastly Stare,                                   85
Peep’d o’er her Shoulder hollow-ey’d Despair;
Whose Hand extended bore a bleeding Heart,
And Death behind her shook his threat’ning Dart:
These Forms with Horror fill’d my aking Breast,
And from my Eye-lids drove the Balm of Rest;                                        90
I woke and found old Night her Course had run,
And left her Empire to the rising Sun.

NOTES:

 4  Scenes of Shore’s deluded Wife  A reference to The Tragedy of Jane Shore (1714), a play by Nicholas Rowe (1674-1718) based on the life an intrigues of Elizabeth (“Jane”) Shore (c. 1445-c. 1557), a mistress of King Edward IV.

9  Fabrick  “A building” (OED).

10  Timbrel  “An instrument of the percussion family” (OED); Cittern “An instrument of the lute family” (OED).

11 Corinthian Pillars  “The name of one of the three Grecian [architectural] orders (Doric, Ionic, Corinthian), of which it is the lightest and most ornate” (OED).

17  Tyrian Dye  Alludes to “the purple or crimson dye anciently made at Tyre from certain molluscs” (OED).

18  Cythera  A reference to Aphrodite, Greek goddess of love who, according to legend, was born on the island of Cythera.

19  beguile  “Deceive” (OED).

22  wanton Boy  Cupid.

64  Tumult  “Commotion leading to a riot” (OED).

69  Dome  “A stately building” (OED).

70  doleful  “Sorrowful” (OED).

SOURCE: Poems Upon Several Occasions (London, 1748), pp. 162-66.  [Google Books]

 Edited by Angela Vu

 

 

Elizabeth Thomas, “Epistle to Clemena”

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[ELIZABETH THOMAS]

“Epistle to Clemena”

Occasioned by an Argument she had
maintain’d against the AUTHOR.

 

Tho’ you my Resolution still accuse,
And for Misanthropy condemn the Muse;
Still finding Fault with what I most commend,
And lose good Humour in the Name of Friend:
Yet if these pettish Heats you lay aside,
And by calm Reason let the Cause be try’d.                                     5
I make no Question, but it would appear,
You had no Cause to boast, nor I to fear.

For when two bind themselves in Marriage Bands,
Fidelity in each, the Church commands;                                           10
Equal’s the Contract, equal are the Vows,
Yet Custom, diff’rent Licences allows:
The Man may range from his unhappy Wife,
But Woman’s made a Property for Life.
To no dear Friend the Grief may be reveal’d,                                   15
No, she poor Soul, must keep her Shame conceal’d:
And, to the Height of doating Folly grown,
Believe her Husband’s Character her own.

So I have seen a lovely beauteous Maid,
By Duty forc’d, by Interest betray’d,                                                  20
Resign her self into Nefario’s Arms,
And make the sordid Wretch sole Master of her Charms.
With seeming Transport he the Bliss receives,
With seeming Gratitude, rich Presents gives:
The finest Brillants thro’ the Town are sought,                               25
The costliest Liv’ries for her Servants bought;
The richest Tissues for her self to wear,
And nothing that she lik’d could purchas’d be too dear.
But ‘ere the Sun his annual Course had run,
Or thrice three Moons with borrow’d Lustre shone;                     30
The Libertine resum’d his brutal Life:
Oh! then how nauseous grew the Name of Wife.
Her Conversation, and her Charms were stale,
Nor Wit and Beauty, longer could prevail:
The Night he turn’d to Day, the Day to Night,                                 35
Yet still uneasy in Aminta’s Sight.

At two, perhaps, he condescends to rise,
Fetches a Yawn or two, and rubs his Eyes:
Run, run, cries he, to Captain Hackum’s straight,
And tell the Rakes, I for their Coming wait;                                    40
Be sure you bring the Dogs, and heark, d’ye hear,
Bid Tom, the Butler, in my Sight appear.

The hungry Bravo’s to their Patron run,
And wonder that his Levee is so soon:
Bless me, says one, how well you look to Day!                             45
T’other replies, ay, he may well look Gay,
When Wine, and Women, pass his Time away.
While Bus’ness other Mortals Peace destroys,
He gives his Soul a nobler Loose to Joys.
Enough, Nefario cries, sit down my Friends,                                  50
See where the sparkling Burgundy attends.
This Wine was sent from France but t’other Day,
And never yet in Vinter’s Cellar lay.

Set in for Drinking thus, they each recite
The wonderful Atchievement of the Night.                                    55
One tells how he did Phillis serenade,
Fought with the Watch, and made them run afraid:
While t’other shrugging cries, I chang’d my Bed,
And was in Triumph to the Counter led.
But if the Town does Canes enough afford,                                   60
I’ll drub that Rascal where I bought my Sword.

Sated at last with fulsome Lies and Wine,
Nefario swears aloud, ‘Tis Dinner Time.
Aminta’s call’d, and calmly down they sit,
But she not one poor Word or Look can get.                                 65
This Meat’s too salt, t’other’s too fresh, he cries,
And from the Table in a Passion flies:
Not, that his Cook is faulty in the least,
But ‘tis the Wife that palls his squeamish Taste.

Well, after having ransack’d Park and Play,                               70
He with some hackney Vizor sneaks away,
To fam’d Pontack’s, or noted Monsieur Locket’s,
Where Mrs. Jilt, as fairly picks his Pockets.
‘Thus bubbled, in Revenge, he walks his Round,
From Loft three Stories high, to Cellar under Ground:                    75
Scow’rs all the Streets, some Brother Rake doth fight,
And with a broken Pate concludes the Night.
Or in some Tavern with the gaming Crew,
He drinks, and swears, and plays, ‘till Day doth Night pursue.

Mean while Aminta for his Stay doth mourn,                            80
And sends up pious Vows for his Return:
Fears some Mishap, looks out at ev’ry Noise,
And thinks each Breath of Wind, her dear Nefario’s Voice.
At last the Clock strikes Five, and Home he comes,
And kicks the spaniel Servants thro’ the Rooms;                             85
‘Till he the lovely pensive Fair doth spy,
Nor can she ‘scape the sordid Tyranny:
A thousand brutish Names to her he gives,
Which she poor Lady patiently receives:
A thousand Imprecations doth bestow,                                             90
And scarcely can refrain to give th’ impending Blow.
‘Till tir’d with Rage, and overcome with Wine,
Dead drunk he falls, and snoring lies supine.

Wretched Nefario! no Repentance shows,
But mocks those ills Aminta undergoes:                                            95
Ruin’d by him, with Pain she draws her Breath,
And still survives an Evil worse than Death.

Ah Friend! in these deprav’d unhappy Times,
When Vice walks barefac’d, Virtues pass for Crimes:
Many Nefario’s must we think to find,                                              100
Tho’ not so bad as this, yet Villains in their Kind.
Hard is that Venture where our All we lose;
But harder yet an honest Man to choose.

NOTES:

23  Transport  “Vehement emotion…mental exaltation, rapture, ecstasy” (OED)

26  Liv’ries  “The uniform or insignia worn by a household’s servants” (OED)

31  Libertine “A person (typically a man) who is not restrained by morality, esp. with regard to sexual relations; a person of dissolute or promiscuous habits” (OED); also called “rakes.”

43  Bravo’s  In this context, fellow rakes.

44  Levee  “A reception of visitors on rising from bed; a morning assembly held by a prince or person of distinction” (OED).

57  Watch  Watchman, “appointed to keep watch and ward in all towns from sunset to sunrise” (OED).

59  Counter  “Prison” (OED).

70  Park and Play  References to St. James’s Park and the theatre, both known haunts for rakish men and prostitutes in the period.

71  hackney Vizor  “A prostitute” (OED).

 72  Pontack’s  A popular London tavern located on Abchurch Lane; Monsieur Locket’s  Another “fashionable tavern where the young and gay met to dine,” located in Gerard street, Soho (John Timbs, Clubs and Club Life in London(London, [1875]), pp. 379-80, 322).

74  bubbled  “Deluded, duped, or cheated” (OED).

77  Pate  “The head, the skull” (OED).

85  spaniel  “Submissive or cringing” (OED).

SOURCE: Poems on Several Occasions. By a Lady (London, 1726), pp. 174-79.  [Google Books]

 Edited by Will Hinds

John Ogilvie, “Ode to the Genius of Shakespear”

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JOHN OGILVIE

“Ode to the Genius of Shakespear”

I. 1

Rapt from the glance of mortal eye,
Say bursts thy Genius to the world of light?
Seeks it yon star-bespangled sky?
Or skims its fields with rapid flight?
Or mid’ yon plains where Fancy strays,                                            5
Courts it the balmy-breathing gale?
Or where the violet pale
Droops o’er the green-embroider’d stream;
Or where young Zephir stirs the rustling sprays,
Lyes all dissolv’d in fairy-dream.                                                        10
O’er yon bleak desart’s unfrequented round
See’st thou where Nature treads the deepening gloom,
Sits on yon hoary tow’r with ivy crown’d,
Or wildly wails o’er thy lamented tomb;
Hear’st thou the solemn music wind along?                                    15
Or thrills the warbling note in thy mellifluous song?

I. 2

Oft while on earth ‘twas thine to rove
Where’er the wild-eyed Goddess lov’d to roam,
To trace serene the gloomy grove,
Or haunt meek Quiet’s simple dome;                                              20
Still hovering round the Nine appear,
That pour the soul-transporting strain;
Join’d to the Loves’ gay train,
The loose-robed Graces crown’d with flow’rs,
The light-wing’d gales that lead the vernal year,                            25
And wake the rosy-featured Hours.
O’er all bright Fancy’s beamy radiance shone,
How flam’d thy bosom as her charms reveal!
Her fire-clad eye sublime, her starry zone,
Her tresses loose that wanton’d on the gale;                                 30
On Thee the Goddess fix’d her ardent look,
Then from her glowing lips these melting accents broke.

I. 3

“To Thee, my favourite son, belong
The lays that steal the listening hour;
To pour the rapture-darting song                                                   35
To paint gay Hope’s elysian bower.
From Nature’s hand to snatch the dart,
To cleave with pangs the bleeding heart;
Or lightly sweep the trembling string,
And call the Loves with purple wing                                              40
From the blue deep where they dwell
With Naiads in the pearly cell,
Soft on the sea-born Goddess gaze;
Or in the loose robe’s floating maze,
Dissolv’d in downy slumbers rest;                                                 45
Or flutter o’er her panting breast.
Or wild to melt the yielding soul,
Let Sorrow clad in sable stole
Slow to thy musing thought appear;
Or pensive Pity pale;                                                                         50
Or Love’s desponding tale
Call from th’ intender’d heart the sympathetic tear.”

II. 1

Say, whence the magic of thy mind?
Why thrills thy music on the springs of thought?
Why, at thy pencil’s touch refin’d                                                   55
Starts into life the glowing draught?
On yonder fairy carpet laid,
Where Beauty pours eternal bloom,
And Zephir breathes perfume;
There nightly to the tranced eye                                                     60
Profuse the radiant goddess stood display’d,
With all her smiling offspring nigh.
Sudden the mantling cliff, the arching wood,
The broidered mead, the landskip, and the grove,
Hills, vales, and sky-dipt seas, and torrents rude,                        65
Grots, rills and shades, and bowers that breath’d of love
All burst to sight!—while glancing on the view,
Titania’s sporting train brush’d lightly o’er the dew.

II. 2

The pale-eyed Genius of the shade
Led thy bold step to Prosper’s magic bower;                               70
Whose voice the howling winds obey’d,
Whose dark spell chain’d the rapid hour:
Then rose serene the sea-girt isle;
Gay scenes by Fancy’s touch refin’d
Glow’d to the musing mind:                                                            75
Such visions bless the hermit’s dream,
When hovering Angels prompt his placid smile,
Or paint some high ecstatic theme.
Then flam’d Miranda on th’ enraptur’d gaze,
Then fail’d bright Ariel on the bat’s fleet wing:                             80
Or starts the lift’ning throng in still amaze!
The wild note trembling on th’ aerial string!
The form in heav’n’s resplendent vesture gay
Floats on the mantling cloud, and pours the melting lay.

II. 3

O lay me near yon limpid stream,                                                  85
Whose murmur soothes the ear of Woe!
There in some sweet poetic dream
Let Fancy’s bright Elysium glow!
‘Tis done :—o’er all the blushing mead
The dark Wood shakes his cloudy head;                                      90
Below, the lily-fringed dale
Breathes its mild fragrance on the gale;
While in pastime all-unseen,
Titania robed in mantle green
Sports on the mossy bank :— her train                                        95
Skims light along the gleaming plain;
Or to the fluttering breeze unfold
The blue wing streak’d with beamy gold;
Its pinions opening to the light !—
Say, bursts the vision on my sight?                                                100
Ah, no! by Shakespear’s pencil drawn
The beauteous shapes appear;
While meek-eyed Cynthia near
Illumes with streamy ray the silver-mantled lawn.

III. 1

But hark! the Tempest howls afar!                                                 105
Bursts the loud whirlwind o’er the pathless waste!
What Cherub blows the trump of war?
What Demon rides the stormy blast?
Red from the lightning’s livid blaze,
The bleak heath rushes on the sight;                                             110
Then wrapt in sudden night
Dissolves.—But ah ! what kingly form
Roams the lone desart’s desolated maze!
Unaw’d! nor heeds the sweeping storm.
Ye pale-eyed Lightnings spare the cheek of Age!                          115
Vain wish ;—though Anguish heaves the bursting groan.
Deaf as the flint, the marble ear of Rage
Hears not the Mourner’s unavailing moan:
Heart-pierc’d he bleeds, and stung with wild despair
Bares his time-blasted head, and tears his silver hair.                 120

III. 2

Lo! on yon long-resounding shore,
Where the rock totters o’er the headlong deep;
What phantomes bathed in infant gore
Stand muttering on the dizzy steep!
Their murmur shakes the zephir’s wing!                                         125
The storm obeys their pow’rful spell;
See, from His gloomy cell
Fierce Winter starts! his scowling eye
Bloats the fair mantle of the breathing Spring,
And lowers along the ruffled sky.                                                     130
To the deep vault the yelling harpies run,
Its yawning mouth receives th’ infernal crew.
Dim thro’ the black gloom winks the glimmering sun,
And the pale furnace gleams with brimstone blue.
Hell howls: and fiends that join the dire acclaim                           135
Dance on the bubbling tide, and point the livid flame.

III. 3

But ah! on Sorrow’s cypress bough
Can Beauty breathe her genial bloom?
On Death’s cold cheek will Passion glow?
Or Music warble from the tomb?                                                     140
There sleeps the Bard, whose tuneful tongue
Pour’d the full stream of mazy song.
Young Spring with lip of ruby, here
Showers from her lap the blushing year;
While along the turf reclin’d,                                                             145
The loose wing swimming on the wind,
The Loves with forward gesture bold,
Sprinkle the sod with spangling gold;
And oft the blue-eyed Graces trim
Dance lightly round on downy limb;                                                150
Oft too, when Eve’ demure and still
Chequers the green dale’s purling rill,
Sweet Fancy pours the plaintive strain,
Or wrapt in soothing dream,
By Avon’s ruffled stream,                                                                   155
Hears the low-murmuring gale that dies along the plain.

NOTES:

3  yon  “That” (OED).
6  balmy-breathing gale  A warm, fragrant breeze.
9  Zephir  “The west wind; frequently personified” (OED).
13  hoary  “Ancient, venerable” (OED).
16  mellifluous “Pertaining to speech, words, or music; being sweet” (OED).
21  the Nine  The Muses.
30  wanton’d on the gale  Blowing about carelessly in the wind.
36  elysian bower  An ideal or happy abode (OED).
42  Naiads  “Water nymphs” (OED).
43  sea-born Goddess  “Venus” [Author’s note].
48  clad in sable stole  Dressed in mourning garments (OED).
51  desponding  “To lose heart or resolution; to become depressed or dejected in mind by loss of confidence or hope” (OED).
66  rills  Small streams (OED).
68  Titania  “The queen of the fairies in William Shakespeare’s comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream (written about 1595–96). Titania, who opposes her husband, Oberon, bears some resemblance to Hera of Greek mythology” (Britannica).
70  Prosper  Prospero in Shakespeare’s The Tempest.
83  vesture  “All growth on land, except trees” (OED).
84  Floats on the mantling cloud  “Ariel: see the Tempest” [Author’s note].
91  dale  “A valley” (OED).
104  the silver-mantled lawn  “See the Midsummer Night’s Dream” [Author’s note].
110  heath  “Wilderness” (OED).
120  tears his silver hair  “Lear” [Author’s note].
122  totters  “As if about to collapse” (OED).
131  the yelling harpies run  “The Witches in Macbeth” [Author’s note].
151  Eve’  Evening.
153  plaintive  “Lamenting” (OED).

SOURCE: Poems on Several Subjects (London, 1762), pp. 8-15.  [Google Books]

Edited by Janice Rodriguez

 

 

Anonymous, “Galetea to Triton. On Jealousie”

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ANONYMOUS

“Galatea to Triton. On Jealousie”
Written by a Lady.

Love is the Land of Hope and Fear,
Of Pleasure mix’d with Pain,
Where, o’er the Heart, soft Joy, and Care,
Alternate Empire gain.
Possest of all we can desire,                                                  5
Fear mingles with our Joy,
The Source of all our tender Fire
Does still our Bliss destroy.
For Triton’s Charms, that wound my Heart,
My jealous Mind alarm.                                                   10
I fear, alas! th’unerring Dart,
Some other Breast shou’d warm.
I dread the Force of other Eyes
His am’rous Soul shou’d move;
My Happiness my Fear supplies,                                           15
Convinc’d that he can love.
My Hopes and his dear Tongue agree,
To flatter my Desire;
But then, alas! warm Jealousie
Makes all my Hopes expire.                                             20
Forgive me, Triton, if my Heart
These anxious Pangs possess;
Less shou’d I feel th’ uneasie Smart,
Cou’d I but love you less.
Excess of Love augments my Pains,                                       25
Which when you’re by decline:
To end them quite still here remain,
So long I’m sure you’re mine.

NOTES:

Title  Galatea  A Nereid (sea nymph); daughter of the sea god Nereus in Greek mythology (Britannica); Triton  “Greek god of the sea, son of Poseidon” (OED).

11  Dart  Figurative for Cupid’s arrow, the dart of love.

22  Pangs  “A sudden sharp spasm of pain which grips the body or a part of it” (OED).

23  Smart  “Sharp, often intense, physical pain” (OED).

SOURCE:  The Muses Mercury: or The Monthly Miscellany (March) (London, 1707), pp. 65-66.  [Google  Books]

Edited by Mimi Hopper

Rev. Tipping Silvester, “Venus’s Girdle; or Advice to a Wife”

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[REV. TIPPING SILVESTER]

“Venus’s Girdle; or Advice to a Wife”

 

–LET nothing your unsully’d beauties cloud;
Be always chearful, but be never loud.
Ev’n Juno’s self set deities at odds,
And oft made uproars in the blest abodes:
For, if we may believe what poets sung,                                      5
Imperial Jove was pester’d with a tongue.
Where pets prevail, sweet concord’s broken soon;
The string, which jars, is always out of tune.
LET no distrusts your settled peace disturb;
Which irritate the mind, but seldom cure:                                  10
So the cold humour, which on lime we pour,
Inflames those parts, which quiet were before
Reproaches seldom cure our loose desires,
But leave a stink, and raise domestick fires.
MAY no surmises lie conceal’d below;                                    15
A rankling breast create a sullen brow:
The sulphur rages most in caverns pent,
And shocks that earth, which cannot give it vent.
JUST wit to furnish the politer Joke;
A spirit, just enough not to provoke:                                              20
Genteel demeanour, and superior sense,
And ease at just remove from indolence:
Oeconomy, which nought superfluous spends;
And is least frugal, when we have our friends:
These be your aim: the something further still,                             25
Which hits the good mens humours, when they’re ill;
There goes to feed a hymeneal flame,
Th’ engaging somewhat, which still wants a name:
The wiser wife alone this Secret knows;
This is the girdle beauty’s queen bestows.                                      30

NOTES:

Title  This is an extract from Silvester’s poem of the same title which first appeared in his volume, Original Poems and Translations (London, 1733), pp. 55-56.

3  Juno  Roman goddess and “female counterpart to Jupiter; [she] was connected with all aspects of the life of women, most particularly married life” (Britannica).

6  Jove  Poetic form of Jupiter, the Roman name for Zeus.

11  cold humour  Likely a reference to phlegm, one of the four humours associated with cold and moisture; lime  “The alkaline earth which is the chief constituent of mortar…it is powerfully caustic and combines readily with water, evolving great heat in the process” (OED).

21  Genteel  “Courteaous, polite; obliging” (OED).

23 Oeconomy  Archaic spelling of “economy.”

27 hymeneal  “Pertaining to marriage” (OED).

SOURCE: The Gentleman’s Magazine, (February 1734), p. 99.  [Google Books]

Edited by Liv Wisely

Alexander Pennecuik, “The Trial of the Muir-Cock”

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ALEXANDER PENNECUIK

 “The Trial of the Muir-Cock”

 

Judges, of old, amongst the feather’d flock,
A diet held to try this mad muir-cock,
Who stood indicted by a learn’d gormaw,
The eagle’s advocate and flisk of law:
His crimes were very great and very gross,                                         5
Enough to sink the muir, and blast the moss,

INDICTMENT.

Muir-Cock, you stand accus’d of being a cheat,
Using bad means to purchase drink and meat;
Though you was early consecrate a priest,                                          10
Sham’d godly birds, and turn’d a drunken beast.
Deny’d the eagle’s title to the crown;
And from two rich well feather’d nests pull’d down;
Was stigmatiz’d before the high sanhedrim,
But their correction made you grow more slim.                                 15
Of late you laid a most pernicious plot,
For liquor to your all devouring throat;
By hellish arts your purpose brought about,
Marry’d a simple bird to your suspected pout:
Though she were virtuous, still it would be said,                                 20
She had a pimping, though a preaching dad:
Which being prov’d by verdict of assize,
The pannel’s either banished or dies.
The jury gave a formidable stroke,
And sentence thus went out against the cock.                                     25

THE SENTENCE.

Muir-cock, for this high aggravated crime,
We banish you into a foreign clime.
Gled, take him to the peak of Teneriff,
There nail his foot; and to augment his grief,                                        30
Set drink at distance from him for a mock,
Till vultures wonder and devour the COCK.

NOTES:

 2  diet  “A day fixed for a particular meeting or assembly (Scottish)” (OED).

3  gormaw  “The cormorant” (Dictionaries of the Scots Language).

22  assize  “The jury (Scottish)” (OED).

23  pannel  “The accused” (Dictionaries of the Scots Language).

29  Gled  “The common kite” (Dictionaries of the Scots Language); the peak of Teneriff  Mt. Teide, a volcano on Tenerife, the largest island of Spain’s Canary Islands.

SOURCE: A Collection of Scots Poems on Several Occasions (Edinburgh, 1769), pp. 48-49.  [Google Books]

Edited by Daisy Downie