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S 0 N G,
But now our fears tempestuous grow, Written at Sea, in the first Durch War, 1665, the And cast our hopes away; night before an Engagement.
Whilft you, regardless of our woe,
Sit careless at a play:
Perhaps, permit some happier man
To kiss your hand, or flirt your fan.
With a fa, &c.
When any mournful tune you hear,
That dies in every note;
As if it Gogh'd with each man's care,
For being so remote ;
Think how often love we're made
To you, when all those tunes were play'd
With a fa, &c.
In justice you cannot refuse,
To think of our diftress;
When we for hopes of honour lose
Our certain happiness;
All those designs are but to prove
Ourselves more worthy of your lore.
With a fa, &c.
And now we've told you all our loves
And likewise all our fears ;
In hopes this declaration moves
Some pity from your tears;
Let 's hear of no inconstancy,
We have too much of that at fea.
With a fa, la, la, la, la.
ON THE COUNTESS OF DORCHESTER,
Miffress to King James the second, 1680. With a fa, &c.
"ELL me, Dorinda, why fo gay, Should foggy Opdam chance to know
Why such embroidery, fringe, and lace? Our fad and dismal story;
Can any dresses find a way,
To stop th' approaches of decay,
And mend a ruin'd face?
Wilt thou fill sparkle in the box,
Still ogle in the ring ?
Canft thou forget thy age and por ?
Can all that shines on thells and rocks
Make thee a finc young thing?
So have I seen in larder dark 'Tis then no matter how things go,
Of veal a lucid loin ;
Replete with many a brilliant spark,
As wise philosophers remark,
At once both stink and shine.
We throw a merry main; Or else at serious ombre play ;
ON THE SAME. But, why should we in vain Each other's ruin thus pursue ?
1. Ws were undone when we left you.
ROUD with the spoils of royal cully, With a fa, &c.
With false pretence to wit and parts,
She swaggers like a batter'd bully,
In spite of you, I must regain
My loss of time, and break your chain.
I was so grossly to be caught ;
Or that I was so blindly bred,
Perhaps you took me for a fool,
Design'd alone your fex's tool ;
I might in time, for your dear fake,
That monster call'd a husband make :
Perhaps I might, had I not found T noon, in a sunshiny day,
One darling vice in you abound ;
A vice to me, which e'er will prove Young Chloris innocent and gay,
An antidote to banish love.
O! I could better bear an old, Sat knotting in a shade :
Ugly, diseas'd, mis-shapen scold, Each Nender finger play'd its part,
Or one who games, or will be drunk, With such activity and art,
A fool, a spendthrift, bawd, or punk, As would inflame a youthful heart,
Than one at a wbo wildly flies, And warm the most decay'd.
And, with soft, alking, giving eyes,
And thousand other wanton arts,
So meanly trades in begging hearts.
How might such wondrous charms perplex,
Give chains, or death, to all our sex, She would have seem'd afraid.
Did she not so unwisely set, She let her ivory needle fall,
For every fluttering fool her net! And hurl'd away the twisted ball :
So poorly proud of vulgar praise, But straight gave Strephon such a call,
Her very look her thoughts betrays; As would have rais'd the dead.
She never stays till we begin,
But beckons us herself to fin. Dear gentle youth, is 't none but thee?
Ere we can alk, she cries consent, With innocence I dare be free;
So quick her yielding looks are sent, By so much truth and modesty
They hope forestal, and ev'n defire prevent. No nymph was e'er betray'd.
But Nature's turn'd when women woo, Come lean thy head upon my lap;
We hate in them what we should do ; While thy smooth cheeks I stroke and clap,
Desire 's alleep, and cannot wake,
When women such advances make :
Both time and charms thus Phyllis waftes,
Since each must surfeit ere he tastes. She saw him yawn, and heard him snore,
Nothing escapes her wandering eyes, And found him fast alleep all o'er.
No one she thinks too mean a prize ;
Ev'n Lynch *, the lag of human kind,
Nearest to brutes by God design'd,
May boast the smiles of this coquet, For this thy dull fidelity,
As much as any man of wit. I'll trust you with my flocks, not me,
The ligns hang thinner in the Strand,
The Dutch scarce more infest the land,
Though Egypo's locusts they outvie,
In number and voracity ; And watch all night thy flocks to keep ;
Whores are not half ro plenty found,
In play-house, or that hallow'd ground
Of Temple-walks, or Whetstone's-park;
At bawdy-house, the Drawing-room:
They hit, but cannot hurt our hearts :
Age has enerv'd her charms so much,
Each her autumnal face degrades
With “ Reverend Mother of the Maids !"
A notorious debauchee.
† Elizabeth Spark, a noted courtezan.
But 'tis ill-natur'd to run on,
She's plump, yet with ease you may span round be Forgetting what her charms have done ;
waist, To 'Teagueland we this beauty owe,
But her round swelling thighs can scarce be embrac't: Teagueland her earliest charms did know:
Her belly is fott, not a word of the reft : There first her tyrant beauties reignd;
But I know what I think, when I drink to the belts Where'er she look'd, the conquest gain'd. No heart the glances could repel,
III. The Teagues in shoals before her fell;
The plowman and 'squire, the arranter clown, And trotting bogs was all the art,
At home the fubdued in her paragon gown; The found had left to save his heart.
But now she adorns both the boxes and pit, She kill'd fo fast, by my salvation,
And the proudeft town gallants are fore'd to submit; She near dispeopled half the nation :
All hearts fall a-leaping wherever she comes, Though she, good soul, to save took care
And beat day and night, like my Lord Craven's drumi. All, all she could from sad despair. From thence the hither came to prove
IV. If yet her charms could kindle love:
I dare not permit her to come to Whitehall, But, ah! it was too late to try,
For she'd out-thine the ladies, paint, jewels, and all: For Spring was gone, and Winter nigh:
If a lord should but whisper his love in a crowd, Yet though her eyes such conquests made,
She'd fell him a bargain, and laugh out aloud : That they were fhunn'd, or else obey'd,
Then the Queen, overhearing what Betty did lay, Yet now her charms are so decay'd,
Would send Mr. Roper to take her away.
v. So some old soldier, who had done
But to those that have had my dear Bess in their res, Wonders in youth, and battles won,
She 's gentle, and knows how to soften her charms; When feeble years his strength depose,
And to every beauty can add a new grace, That he too weak to vanquish grows,
Having learn'd how to lisp, and to trip in her pace; With mangled face and wooden leg,
And with head on one side, and a languishing eys, Reduc'd about for alms to beg,
To kill us by looking as if she would die.
S O N G.
A Y the ambitious ever find
Success in crowds and noise,
While gentle love does fill my mind
With filent real joys!
May knaves and fools grow rich and great,
And the world think them wise,
While I lie dying at her feet,
And all the world despife.
Let conquering kings new triumphs raise,
And melt in Court delights ;
Her arms much softer nights.
As mighty Lewis lay,
My deareft, let 's away.
For you, my Love, is all my fear!
Hark! how the drums do rattle! This Bess of my heart, this Bess of my soul,
Alas, Sir! what should you do here Has a skin white as milk, and hair black as a coal;
In dreadful day of battle?
Let Yttle Orange stay and fight,
For danger 's his diversion;
Not to expose your person :
The ruins of your glory ;
To those who pen your story.
For panegyric writing?
Without the help of fighting.
"Tis beft to leave them fairly : Put fix good horses to your coach,
And carry me to Marly. Let Bouflers, to secure your fame, - Go take some town or buy it ; Whilft you, great Sir, at Nôtre Dame,
Te Deum fing in quiet.
A thousand different ways,
The censure of the grave,
Nor can it e'er submit,
Who daily counsel me
To fools who thus advise,
Most miserably wise!
S O N G DO ,
ORINDA's Sparkling wit and eyes, Which blazes high, but quickly dies,
Pains not the heart, but hurts the sight. Love is a calmer gentler joy,
Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace ; Her Cupid is a black-guard boy,
That runs his link full in your face.
His arm reclin'd, the lover's pillow, Thus address'd the charming maid.
How could Nature take delight
Half the tortures that I bear,
O! behold a burning man !
Cry'd, with an insulting look,
She spoke, and pointed to the brook
ON THE MARRIAGE OF GEORGE PRINCE OF DENMARK, AND THE LADY ANNE*.
Vrcumvolantum blanda Cupidinum
Huc Mater axes flectat eburncos,
Chaoniæ metuant Columbæ.
Remigio volitans Olorum.
Connubio superata noftro :
Viribus et superent Achillem.
In Dominæ tumulentur ulnis.
Cessate lites ; spicula, machinz
Armiger innocuus sagittas !
Lumina luminibus calores.
Nec non Tonantis pluma mendax,
Cornua seu tegerent amores. Lacæna nunquam damna moleftiz Tuliffet, Idæ si puer hue vagus Erráslet, ardentes videret
Funere tergemino penates.
Oenomai fremitum sequentis ?
Hæc meritis ftatuêre tantis.
Bafiolis superate conchas.
Nec dederit fimilem aut secundum;
Qui domitum moderentur orbem.
From the “ Hymenæus Cantabrigiensis. Canta“ brigiæ, 1683."-" It is reported,” says Dr. Johnc ron, “ tha: the juvenile compositions of Stepney “ made grey authors blush. I know not whether his
poems will appear such wonders to the present age. « One cannot always easily find the reason for which " the world has sometimes conspired to squander praise. “ It is not very unlikely that he wrote very early as “ well as he ever wrote ; and the performances of or youth have many favourers." The present poem is earlier than any one by Stepney hitherto printed; and will therefore without doubt be acceptable to the publick. J. N.
+ Mr. Addison has made a fine use of the same allufion, in his beautiful verses to Kneller
“ The troubled Ocean's Queen
“ Match'd with a Mortal, &c.” But he had the advantage of being able to add,
- her short-liv'd darling son." J. DuncomBI.