Gloomy Pluto! king of terrors, Mournful cypress, verdant willow, Melancholy smooth Meander Thus when Philomela, drooping, ON A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT. I KNOW the thing that's most uncommon; (Envy, be silent and attend!) I know a reasonable woman, Handsome and witty, yet a friend: Not warp'd by passion, awed by rumour, Not grave through pride, nor gay through folly; An equal mixture of good humour, And sensible soft melancholy.. Has she not faults then, (Envy says) sir?' When all the world conspires to praise her, ON HIS GROTTO AT TWICKENHAM, COMPOSED OF MARBLES, SPARS, GEMS, ORES, AND MINERALS. THOU who shalt stop where Thames' translucent wave Shines a broad mirror through the shady cave; Approach. Great Nature studiously behold! Let such, such only, tread this sacred floor, ON RECEIVING FROM THE RIGHT HON. THE LADY FRANCES SHIRLEY A STANDISH AND TWO PENS 1. YES, I beheld the' Athenian queen Secure the radiant weapons wield; This golden lance shall guard desert, And if a vice dares keep the field, This steel shall stab it to the heart.' What well? what weapon? (Flavia cries) But, friend! take heed whom you attack; You'll bring a house (I mean of peers) Red, blue, and green, nay, white and black, 'You'd write as smooth again on glass, As not to stick at fool or ass, 1 These lines were occasioned by the poet's being threatened with a prosecution in the House of Lords, for writing the Epilogue to Dr. Donne's Satires. 'Athenian queen! and sober charms! 'Come, if you'll be a quiet soul, Of those that sing of these poor eyes.' ΤΟ LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGUE'. IN beauty or wit, To question your empire has dared; But men of discerning Have thought that, in learning, To yield to a lady was hard. Impertinent schools, With musty dull rules, Have reading to females denied: The Bible to use, Lest flocks should be wise as their guide. 1 This panegyric on Lady Mary Wortley Montague might have been suppressed by Mr. Pope, on account of her having. satirized him in her Verses to the Imitator of Horace; which abuse he returned in the first Satire of the second book of Horace : From furious Sappho, scarce a milder fate, 'Twas a woman at first, In knowledge that tasted delight, The laws should decree To the first of possessors the right. Then bravely, fair dame, Resume the old claim, Which to your whole sex does belong; From a second bright Eve, The knowledge of right, and of wrong. Hard doom did receive, When only one apple had she, Shall be found out for you, Who, tasting, have robb'd the whole tree? TO THE AUTHOR OF A PANEGYRIC ON MRS. GRACE BUTLER, WHO DIED, AGED 86. [The Spirit of Mrs. Butler is supposed to speak.] STRIPP'D to the naked soul, escaped from clay, From doubts unfetter'd, and dissolved in day; Unarm'd by vanity; unreach'd by strife; And all my hopes and fears thrown off by life; Why am I charm'd by friendship's fond essays, And, though unbodied, conscious of thy praise? Has pride a portion in the parted soul? Does passion still the formless mind control? |