TO MRS. AFRA BEHN,

WO warrior chiefs the voice of Fame divide,

T
Who best deferv'd, not Plutarch could decide:
Behold two mightier conquerors appear,
Some for your wit, fome for your eyes declare;
Debates arife, which captivates us most,

And none can tell the charm by which he's loft.
The bow and quiver does Diana bear;
Venus the dove; Pallas the fhield and spear:
Poets fuch emblems to their Gods affign,
Hearts bleeding by the dart, and pen be thine.

THE

NOW

DESERTION. ay aid,

fly, Difcretion, to my See haughty Myra, fair and bright,

In all the pomp of love array'd;

Ah! how I tremble at the fight!
She comes, the comes-before her all
Mankind does proftrate fall.
Love, a destroyer fierce and young,
Advent'rous, terrible, and strong,
Cruel and rafh, delighting ftill to vex,
Sparing nor age nor fex,

Commands in chief; well fortify'd he lies,
And from her lips, her cheeks and eyes,
All oppofition he defies.

Reafon, Love's old inveterate foe,
Scarce ever reconcil'd till now,

Reason affifts her too.

A wife commander he, for council fit;
But nice and coy, nor has been feen to fit
In modern fynod, nor appear'd of late
In courts, nor camps, nor in affairs of state;
Refon proclaims them all his fees,
Who fuch refiftlefs charms oppofe.
My very bofom friends make war
Within my breaft, and in her interests are ;
Efteem and judgment with ftrong fancy join
To court, and call the fair invader in ;
My darling favourite inclination too,
All, all confpiring with the foe.
Ah! whither thall I fly to hide

My weakness from the conqu'ror's pride?
Now, now, Difcretion be my guide.
But fee, this mighty Archimedes too,
Surrenders now.
Prefuming longer to refift

His very name,

Difcretion must disclaim;

Folly and madness only would perfift.

Pin lus again fhall hear, again rejoice,
And Hemus too, as when th' enchanting voice
Taught oaks to dance, and made the cedars move.
Of tuneful Orpheus charm'd the grove,

Nor Venus, nor Diana will we name;

Myra is Venus and Diana too,

All that was feign'd of them, apply'd to her, is true;
Then fing, my Mufe, let Myra be our theme.
As when the shepherds would a garland make,
They fearch with care the fragrant meadows round;
Plucking but here and there and only take

The choiceft flow'rs with which fome nymph iệ crown'd.

In framing Myra fo divinely fair,
Nature has taken the fame care;

All that is lovely, noble, good, we see,
All, beauteous Myra, all bound up in thee.
Where Myra is, there is the Queen of Love,
Th' Arcadian paftures, and th' Idalian grove.
Let Myra dance, fo charming is her mien,
In every movement every grace is feen;
Let Myra fing, the notes fo fweetly wound,
The fyrens would be filent at the found.
Place me on mountains of eternal snow,
Where all is ice, all winters winds that blow;
Or caft me underneath the burning line,
Where everlafting fun does fhine;
Where all is fcorch'd-whatever you decree,
Ye Gods! wherever I fhall be,

Myra fhall still be lov'd, and still ador'd by me.

N

ATURE indulgent, provident and kind,

In all things that excell, fome use design'd;

The radiant fun, of every heavenly light
The first (did Myra not dispute that right)
Sends from above ten thousand bleffings down;
Nor is he fet fo high for fhow alone,

His beams reviving with aufpicious fire,
Freely we all enjoy what all admire:

The moon and ftars, thofe faithful guides of night,
Are placed to help, not entertain the fight:
Plants, fruits, and flowers the fertile fields produce,
Not for vain ornament, but wholesome ufe;
Health they reftore, and nourishment they give,
We fee with pleasure, but we tafte to live.

Then think not, Myra, that thy form was meant
More to create defire, than to content;
Would the just gods fo many charms provide
Only to gratify a mortal's pride?

Would they have form'd thee fo above thy sex,
Only to play the tyrant, and to vex?
'Tis impious pleasure to delight in harm,
And Beauty fhould be kind as well as charm.

HE fyrens, once deluded, vainly charm'd, Tyd to the maft, Ulyffes fail'd unharm'd; Had Myra's voice entic'd his liftening ear, The Greek had flopt, and would have dy'd to hear. When Myra fings, we feek th' enchanting found, And blefs the notes that do so sweetly wound. What mufic needs muft dwell upon that tongue, Whofe fpeech is tuneful as another's fong! Such harmony! fuch wit! a face fo fair! So many pointed arrows who can bear? Who from her wit, or from her beauty flies, If with her voice fhe overtakes him, dies. Like foldiers fo in battle we fucceed, One peril 'scaping, by another bleed; In vain the dart, or glittering fword we fhun, Condemn'd to perish by the flaughtering gun.

THE PROGRESS OF BEAUTY.

HE God of day defcending from above,

ΤΗ

Mixt with the fea, and got the Queen of love. 1 Beauty, that fires the world, 'twas fit fhould rife From him alone who lights the stars and skies. In Cyprus long, by men and Gods obey'd, The lover's toil the gratefully repaid, Promifcuous bleffings to her flaves affign'd, And taught the world that Beauty fhould be kind. Learn by this pattern, all ye fair, to charm, Bright be your beams, but without fcorching warm.

Helen was next from Greece to Phrygia brought, With much expence of blood and empire fought: Beauty and Love the nobleft caufe afford, That can try valour, or employ the fword. Not men alone incited by her charms,"

But Heaven's concern'd, and all the Gods take arms.

The happy Trojan gloriously poffeft,
Enjoys the dame, and leaves to fate the rest.
Your cold reflections, moralifts, forbear,
His title's beft who beft can please the fair.
And now the Gods, in pity to the cares,
The fierce defires, diftractions, and defpairs
Of tortur'd men, while beauty was confin'd,
Refolv'd to multiply the charming kind.
Greece was the land where this bright race begun,
And faw a thoufand rivals to the fun.
Hence follow'd arts, while each employ'd his care
In new productions to delight the fair:
To bright Afpafia Socrates retir'd,

His wifdom grew but as his love infpir'd;
Tofe rocks and oaks which fuch emotions felt,
Were cruel maids whom Orpheus taught to melt
Mufic, and fongs, and every way to move
The ravish'd heart, were feeds and plants of love.

The Gods, entic'd by fo divine a birth, Defcend from heaven to this new heaven on earth; Thy wit, O Mercury's no defence from love; Nor Mars, thy target; nor thy thunder, Jove. The mad immortals in a thousand shapes,

}

Range the wide globe; fome yield, fome fuffer rapes,
Invaded, or deceiv'd, not one escapes.
The wife, though a bright Goddefs, thus gives place
To mortal concubines of fresh embrace;
By fuch examples were we taught to fee
The life and foul of love, is fweet variety.

In those first times, ere charming womankind
Reform'd their pleasures, polishing the mind,
Rude were their revels, and obfcene their joys,
The broils of drunkards, and the luft of boys;
Phœbus laments for Hyacinthus dead,
And Juno jealous, ftorms at Ganymed.
Return, my Mufe, and clofe that odious fcene,
Nor ftain thy verfe with images unclean;
Of Beauty fing, her fhining progrefs view,
From clime to clime the dazzling light purfue,
Tell how the Goddefs fpread, and how in empire
grew.

Let others govern, or defend the state,
Plead at the bar, or mariage a debate,
In lofty arts and sciences excell,
Or in proud domes employ their boafted skill,
To marble and to brafs, fuch features give,
The metal and the ftone may feem to live;
Defcribe the ftars, and planetary way,
And trace the footsteps of eternal day:
Be this, my Mufe, thy pleasure and thy care,
A flave to beauty, to record the Fair.
Still wand'ring in love's fweet delicious maze,
To fing the triumph of fome heavenly face,
Of lovely dames, who with a fmile or frown,
Subdue the proud, the fuppliant lover crown.
From Venus down to Myra bring thy song,
To thee alone fuch tender tasks belong.

From Greece to Afric Beauty takes her flight,
And ripens with her near approach to light:
Frown not, ye Fair, to hear of fwarthy dames,
With radiant eyes, that take unerring aims;
Beauty to no complexion is confin'd,
Is of all colours, and by none defin'd;
Jewels that fhine, in gold or filver fet,
As precious and as sparkling ase in jet.

Here

Here Cleopatra, with a liberal heart,
Bounteous of love, improv'd the joy with art,
The firft who gave recruited flaves to know
That the rich pearl was of more ufe than show,
Who with high meats, or a luxurious draught,
Kept love for ever flowing, and full fraught.
Julius and Anthony, thofe lords of all,

Each in his turn prefent the conquer'd ball; ·
Thofe dreadful eagles that had fac'd the light
From pole to pole, fall dazzled at her fight:
Nor was her death lefs glorious than her life,
A conftant miftrefs, and a faithful wife;
Her dying truth fome generous tears would cost,
Had not her fate infpir'd the World well Loft;
With fecret pride the ravish'd Mufes view
The image of that death which Dryden drew.

Pleas'd in fuch happy climates, warm and bright,
Love for fome ages revel'd with delight;
The martial Moors in gallantry refin'd,
Invent new arts to make their charmers kind;
See in the lifts, by golden barriers bound,

In warlike ranks they wait the trumpet's found;
Some love-device is wrought on every sword,
And every ribbon bears fome mystic word.
As when we fee the winged winds engage,
Mounted on courfers, foaming flame and rage,
Ruling from every quarter of the sky,
North, eaft, and weft, in airy swiftness vie;
One cloud repuls'd, new combatants prepare
To meet as fierce, and form a thundering war;
So when the trumpet founding, gives the fign,
The justling chiefs in rude rencounter join,
So meet, and fo renew the dextrous fight,
Each fair beholder trembling for her knight;
Still as one falls, another ruthes in,

And all must be o'ercome, or none can win.
The victor, from the shining dame, whofe eyes
Aided his conqu'ring arm, receives a precious prize.
Thus Aourish'd Love, and Beauty reign'd in state,
Till the proud Spaniard gave theie glories date:
Paft is the gallantry, the fame remains,
Tranfmitted fare in Dryden's lofty scenes;
Granada + loft, beheld her pomps reftor'd,
And Almahide, once more by kings ador'd.
Love driven thence, to colder Britain flies,
And with bright nymphs the diftant fun fupplies;
Romances which relate the dreadful fights,
The loves and prowefs of advent'rous knights;
To animate their rage, a kifs record
From Britain's faireft nymph was the reward;
Thus ancient to Love's empire was the claim
Of British beauty, and fo wide the fame,
Which, like our flag upon the feas, gives law
By right avow'd, and keeps the world in awe.
Our gallant kings of whom large annals prove
The mighty deeds, ftand as renown'd for love;
A monarch's right o'er Beauty they may claim,
Lords of that ocean from whence Beauty came.

All for Love; or, The World well Loft: written by Mr. Dryden.

†The Conquest of Granada; written by Mr. Dryden.

The part of Almahide, performed by Mrs. EleDor Gwyn, Miftrefs to King Charles II.

Thy Rofamond, great Henry, on the stage,
By a late Mufe prefented in our age,
With aking hearts, and flowing eyes we view,
While that diffembled death presents the true
In Bracegirdle §, the perfons fo agree,
That all feems real the fpectators fee.

Of Scots and Gauls defeated, and their kings, Thy captives, Edward, Fame for ever fings; Like thy high deeds, thy noble loves are prais'd, Who haft to Love the nobleft trophy rais'd: Thy ftatues, Venus, though by Phidias' hand, Defign'd immortal, yet no longer stand; The magic of thy fhining zone is past, But Salisbury's Garter fhall for ever last, Which through the world by living monarchs worn, Adds grace to fceptres, and does crowns adorn.

If fuch their fame who gave these rights divine To facred Love, O! what dishonour's thine, Forgetful Queen, who fever'd that bright || head Which charm'd two mighty monarchs to her bed? Hadt thou been born a man, thou hadst not err'd, Thy fame had liv'd, and Beauty been preferr'd; But O! what mighty magic can affuage A woman's envy, and a bigot's rage?

Love tir'd at length, Love, that delights to smile,
Flying from scenes of horror*, quits our isle,
With Charles, the Cupids and the Graces gone,
In exile live, for Love and Charles were one;
With Charles he wanders, and for Charles he mourns,
But O! how fierce the joy when Charles returns!
As enger flames with oppofition pent,

Break out impetuous when they find a vent;
As a fierce torrent bounded on his race,
Forcing his way, rolls with redoubled pace
From the loud palace to the filent grove,
All, by the King's example, live and love;
The Mufes with diviner voices fing;
And all rejoice to please the godlike King.

Then Waller in immortal verfe proclaims
The fhining court, and all the glittering dames;
Thy beauty, Sydney †, like Achilles' fword,
Refiftlefs, ftands upon as fure record;
The fiercest hero, and the brightest dame,
Both fung alike, fhall have their fate the fame.

And now, my Mufe, a nobler flight prepare,
And fing fo loud that heaven and earth may hear.
Behold from Italy an awful ray

Of heavenly light illuminates the day,
Northward the bends, majeftically bright,
And here the fixes her imperial light.
Be bold, be bold, my Mufe, nor fear to raise
Thy voice to her who was thy earliest praife;
What though the fullen Fates refuse to shine,
Or frown severe on thy audacious line,
Keep thy bright theme within thy fteady fight,
The clouds fhall fly before the dazzling light,
And everlasting day direct thy lofty flight.

A famous actress.

Mary Queen of Scots, beheaded by Queen Elizabeth.

*The Rebellion; and death of King Charles I.

The Lady Dorothy Sydney, celebrated by Mr. Waller under the name of Sacharissa.

Thou

Thou who haft never yet put on disguise
To flatter faction, or defcend to vice;
Let no vain fear thy generous ardor tame,
But ftand erect, and found as loud as Fame.

As when our eye fome profpect would pursue,
Defcending from a hill, looks round to view,
Paffes o'er lawns and meadows till it gains
Some favourite fpot, and fixing there, remains:
With equal rapture my tranfported Mufe
Flies other objects, this bright theme to choose.

Queen of our hearts, and charmer of our fight,
A monarch's pride, his glory and delight,
Princess ador'd and lov'd! If verfe can give
A deathless name, thine fhall for ever live;
Invok'd where-e'er the British lion roars,
Extended as the feas that gird the British shores.
The wife immortals in their feats above,
To crown their labours, ftill appointed Love;
Phoebus enjoy'd the Goddefs of the sea,
Alcides had Omphale, James h Thee.
O happy James! content thy mighty mind,
Grudge not the world, for ftill thy Queen is kind,
To lie but at whofe feet more glory brings
Than 'tis to tread on fceptres, and on kings:
Secure of empire in that beauteous breast,
Who would not give their crowns to be fo bleft?
Was Helen half fo fair, fo form'd for joy,
Well chofe the Trojan, and well burnt was Troy.
But ah! what ftrange viciffitudes of fate,
What chance attends on every worldly ftate?
As when the skies were fack'd, the conquer'd Gods
Compell'd from heaven, forfook their bleft abodes;
Wandering in woods, they hid from den to den,
And fought their fafety in the fhapes of men.
As when the winds with kindling flames confpire,
The blaze encreafes, as they fan the fire;
From roof to roof the burning torrent pours,
Nor fpares the palace, nor the loftiest towers:
Or, as the ftately pine, erecting high
Her lofty branches, booting to the sky,
If riven by the thunderbolt of Jove,
Down falls at once the pride of all the grove,
Level with loweft fhrubs lies the tall head
'That rear'd aloft, as to the clouds was fpread.
So

But ceafe, my Mufe, thy colours are too faint,
Hide with a veil thofe griefs which none can paint;
This fun is fet.-But fee in bright array
What hofts of heavenly light recruit the day.
Love, in a fhining Galaxy, appears
Triumphant ftill, and Grafton leads the stars.
Ten thousand loves, ten thousand feveral ways
Invade adoring crowds, who die to gaze;
Her eyes refiftlefs as the fyrens voice,

So fweet's the charm, we make our fate our choice.
Who moft refembles let her next be nam'd,

*

Villiers for wisdom and deep judgment fam'd,

Of a high race, victorious Beauty brings

To grace our courts, and captivate our kings.

* Countess of Orkney.

With what delight my Mufe to Sandwich flies! Whofe wit is piercing as her fparkling eyes: Ah! how the mounts, and spreads her airy wings, And tunes her voice, when the of Ormond fings! Of radiant Ormond, only fit to be The fucceffor of beauteous Offory.

Richmond's a title, that but nam'd, implies Majeftic graces, and victorious eyes;

Fair Villiers firft, then haughty Stuart came,
And Brudenel now no lefs adorns the name.
Dorfet already is immortal made

In Prior's verfe, nor needs a fecond aid.

By Bentinck and fair Rutenberg we find, That Beauty to no climate is confin'd.

Rupert of royal blood, with modest grace, Blushes to hear the triumphs of her face.

Not Helen with St. Alban's might compare: Nor let the Mufe omit Scrocp, Holms, and Hare: Hyde, Venus is; the Graces are Kildare.

Soft and delicious as a fouthern sky,

}

Are Dashwood's files; when Darnly frowns* we die,
Careless, but yet fecure of conqueft ftill,
Lu'fon unaiming, never fails to kill;
Guiltless of pride to captivate, or thine,
Bright without art, the wounds without defign:
But Wyndham like a tyrant throws the dart,
And takes a cruel pleafure in the fmart,
Proud of the ravage that her beauties make,
Delight in wounds, and kills for killing fake;
Afferting the dominion of her eyes,

As heroes fight for glory, not for prize.

The fkilful Mufe's earlieft care has been
The praife of never-fading Mazarine;
The Poet and his theme, in fpite of Time,
For ever young, enjoy an endless prime.
With charms fo numerous Myra does surprise,
The lover knows not by which dart he dies;
So thick the volley, and the wound fo fure,
No flight can fave, no remedy can cure.

Yet dawning in her infancy of fight,
O fee! another Brudenel heavenly bright,
Born to fulfil the glories of her line,
And fix Love's empire in that race divine.

Fain would my Mufe to Cecil bend her fight,
But turns aftonish'd from the dazzling light,
Nor dares attempt to climb the steepy flight.

O Kneller! like thy pictures were my fong,
Clear like thy paint, and like thy pencil ftrong;
Thefe matchlefs Beauties fhould recorded be,
Immortal in my verfe, as in thy Gallery §.

*Lady Catharine Darnley, Duchefs of Buckingham. + Lady Gower.

Monfieur St. Evremont.

Lady Molyneaux.

Lady Ranelagh.

The Gallery of Beauties in Hampton-Court, drawn by Sir Godfrey Kneller.

TO

TO THE

COUNTESS OF NEWBOURG, Infifting earnestly to be told who I meant by MYRA.

W Long had my Mufe amat d the reader's far,

WITH Myra's Charms, and my extreme despair,

My friends, with Pity, heard the mournful found,
And all enquir'd from whence the fatal wound;
Th' aftonish'd world beheld an endless flame,
Ne'er to be quench'd, unknowing whence it came:
So fcatter'd fire from fcorch'd Vefuvius flies,
Unknown the fource from whence thofe flames arife:
Egyptian Nile fo fpreads its waters round,
O'erflowing for and near, its head unfound.

Myra herself, touch'd with the moving fong,
Would needs be told to whom those plaints belong;
My timorous tongue not daring to confefs,
Trembling to name, would fain have had her guess;
Impatient of excufe, fhe urges ftill,

Perits in her demand, fhe muft, fhe will;

If flent, I am threaten'd with her hate;
If I obey-Ah! what
may be my fate?

Uncertain to conceal, or to unfold,

Ste fres-the goddefs fmiles- and I grow bold.

My vows to Myra, all were meant to thee,
The prife, the love, the matchless conftancy.
'Twas thus of old, when all th' immortal dames
Were grac'd with poets, each by feveral names;
Ter Venus, Citherea was invok'd;

Altars for Pallas, to Tritonia fmok'd.

Such names were theirs; and thou the most divine, Mot lov'd of heav'nly beauties-Myra's thine.

SIN

TO MY RA. INCE truth and conftancy are vain, Since neither love nor fenfe of pain, Nor force of reafon can perfuade, Then let example be obey'd.

In courts and cities, could you fee
How well the wanton fools agree;
Were all the curtains drawn, you'd find
Not one, perhaps, but who is kind.

Minerva, naked from above,
With Venus, and the wife of Jove,
Expofing ev'ry Beauty bare,
Defcending to the Trojan heir;
Yet this was the whom poets name
Goddess of chastity and fame.

Penelope, her lord away,
Gave am'rous audiences all day;
Now round the bowl the fuitors fit,
With wine, provoking mirth and wit,
Then down they take the ftubborn bow,

Thus twenty chearful winters paft,

Their ftrength, it seems, fhe needs must know.

Smile

She's yet immortaliz'd for chafte.