own,

And, while his fame they envy, add to his renown.

But fure, like you, no youth could please, Nor at his first attempt boast such fuccefs: Where all mankind have fail'd, you glories won; Triumphant are in this alone,

In this, have all the bards of old out-done. Then may'st thou rule our stage in triumph long!

May'ft thou its injur'd fame revive,

And matchlefs proofs of wit and humour give, Reforming with thy fcenes, and charming with thy fong!

And though a curfe ill-fated wit purfues,
And waits the fatal dowry of a mufe;
Yet may thy rising fortunes be

Secure from all the blafts of poetry;
As thy own laurels flourishing appear,
Unfully'd fill with cares, nor clogg'd with hope

and fear!

As from its wants be from its vices free,
From naufeous fervile flattery:

Nor to a patron prostitute thy mind,

Though like Augustus great, as fam'd Mæcenas kind.

Though great in fame! believe me, generous youth,

Believe this oft-experienc'd truth,

From him that knows thy virtues, and admires their worth.

Though thou'rt above what vulgar poets fear,
Truft not th' ungrateful world too far;
Truft not the fmiles of the inconftant town;
Truft not the plaudits of a theatre
(Which Durfey fhall with thee and Dryden
fhare);

Nor to a stage's intereft facrifice thy own,
Thy genius, that's for nobler things defign'd,
May at loofe hours oblige mankind :
Then, great as is thy fame, thy fortunes raife.
Join thriving intereft to thy barren bays,
And teach the world to envy, as thou doft to
praife.
[brace,

The world, that does like common whores em-
Injurious till to those it does carefs:
Injurious as the tainted breath of fame,
That blafts a poet's fortunes, while it founds his

name.

When firft a mufe inflames fome youthful breaft, Like an unpractis'd virgin, still she's kind:

Adorn'd with graces then, and beauties bleft, She charms the ear with fame, with raptures fille the mind.

Then from all cares the happy youth is free,
But those of love and poetry:

Cares, ftill allay'd with pleasing charms, That crown the head with bays, with beauty fil the arms.

But all a woman's frailties foon the shows, Too foon a ftale domeftic creature grows : Then, wedded to a mufe that's naufeous grown We loath what we enjoy, drudge when the pleafure's gone.

For, tempted with imaginary bays,

Fed with immortal hopes and empty praise, He fame pursues, that fair and treacherous bait, Grows wife when he's undone, repents when 'us too late.

Small are the trophies of his boasted bays, The great man's promife for his flattering toil, Fame in reverfion, and the public smile, All vainer than his hopes, uncertain as his praise. 'Twas thus in mournful numbers heretofore, Neglected Spenfer did his fate deplore:

Long did his injur'd muse complain, Admir'd in midst of wants, and charming ftill

in vain.

Long did the generous Cowley mourn, And long oblig'd the age without return. Deny'd what every wretch obtains of fate,

An humble roof and an obfcure retreat, Condemn'd to needy fame, and to be misurably great.

Thus did the world thy great fore fathers ufe;
Thus all th' infpir'd bards before
Did their hereditary ills deplore;

From tuneful Chaucer's down to thy own Dryden's mufe.

Yet, pleas'd with gaudy ruin, youth will on, As proud by public fame to be undone ; Pleas'd, though he does the worst of labour [muk.

choofe,

To ferve a barbarous age, and an ungrateful
Since Dryden's felf, to wit's great empire born,
Whofe genius and exalted name
Triumph with all the spoils of wit and fame,
Muft, 'midft the loud applaufe, his barren laurels

In a fmall space the more perfection's shown,
And what is exquifite in little's done.
Thus beams, contracted in a narrow glass,
To flames convert their larger useless rays.

'Tis nature's fmallest products please the eye,
Whilft greater births pafs unregarded by ;
Her monsters feem a violence to fight;
They're form'd for terror, infects to delight.
Thus, when the nicely frames a piece of art,
Fine are her strokes, and fmall in every part;
No labour can fhe boaft more wonderful
Than to inform an atom with a foul;
To animate her little beauteous fly,
And clothe it in her gaudieft drapery.

Thus does the little epigram delight, And charm us with its miniature of wit; Whilft tedious authors give the reader pain Weary his thoughts, and make him toil in vain; When in lefs volumes we more pleasure find, And what diverts, ftill best informs the mind.

'Tis the fmall infect looks correct and fair, And feems the product of her nicest care. When, weary'd out with the stupendous weight Of forming prodigies and brutes of state; Then the the infect frames, her mafter-piece, Made for diverfion, and defign'd to please.

Thus Archimedes, in his crystal sphere, Seem'd to correct the world's Artificer: Whilft the large globe moves round with long

delay,

His beauteous orbs in nimbler circles play:
This feem'd the nobler labour of the two,
Great was the sphere above, but fine below.

Thus smallest things have a peculiar grace,
The great w' admire, but 'tis the little please;
Then, fince the least so beautifully fhow,
B' advis'd in time, my mufe, and learn to know
A poet's lines fhould be correct and few.

The hero felt her power:

Though great in camps, and fierce in war, Her fofter looks he could not bear,

Proud to become her flave, though late her conqueror.

When beauty in diftrefs appears,

An irrefiftless charm it bears:
In every breaft does pity move,
Pity, the tenderest part of love.
Amidit his triumphs great. Atrides fued,
Unto a weeping maid:

Though Troy was by his arms fubdued,
And Greece the bloody trophies view'd,
Yet at a captive's feet th' imploring victor laid.
Think not thy charming maid can be
Of a base stock, and mean degree;
Her shape, her air, her every grace,
A more than vulgar birth confefs:

Yes, yes, my friend, with royal blood she's great,
Sprung from fome monarch's bed;

Now mourns her family's hard fate,
Her mighty fall and abject státe,

And her illustrious race conceals with noble pride.

Ah, think not an ignoble house

Could fuch a heroine produce;

Nor think fuch generous fprightly blood
Could flow from the corrupted crowd;
But view her courage, her undaunted mind,
And foul with virtues crown'd;

Where dazzling interest cannot blind,
Nor youth nor gold admittance find,
But ftill her honour's fix'd, and virtue keeps its
ground.

View well her great majestic air,

And modeft looks divinely fair ;
Too bright for fancy to improve,
And worthy of thy nobleft love.
But yet fufpect not thy officious friend,
All jealous thoughts remove;

Though I with youthful heat commend,
For thee I all my wishes fend,

And if the makes thee blest, 'tis all I ask of love!

TO MR. WATSON,

On bis Ephemeris of the Celestial Motions, presented to Her Majefty.

ART, when in full perfection, is defign'd
To please the eye, or to inform the mind:
This nobler piece performs the double part,
With graceful beauty and inftructive art.
The noblcit labour finish'd it could boaft;
Since the great Archimedes' fphere was loft,
No generous hand durst that fam'd model trace,
Which Greece admir'd, and Rome could only
praise.

This you, with greater luftre, have restor'd,
And taught thofe arts we ignorantly ador'd:
Motion in full perfection here you've shown,
And what mankind despair'd to reach, have done
3 B iij

In artful frames your heavenly bodies move, Scarce brighter in their beauteous orbs above; And ftars, depriv'd of all malignant flames, Here court the eye with more aufpicious beams: In graceful order the juft planets rife, And here complete their circles in the fkies; Here's the full concert of revolving ipheres, And heaven in bright epitome appears.

With charms the ancients did invade the moon,
And front her orb compell'd her struggling down;
But here fhe's taught a nobler change by you,
And moves with pride in this bright fphere below:
While your celeftial bodies thus I view,
They give me bright ideas of the true;
Infpir'd by them, my thoughts dare upward move,
And vifit regions of the bleft above. [fmall,
Thus from your hand w' admite the globe in
A copy fair as its original:

This labour's to the whole creation juft,
Second to none, and rival to the first.
The artfu! fpring, like the diffufive foul,
Informs the machine, and directs the whole :
Like Nature's felf, it fills the fpacious throne,
And unconfin'd fways the fair orbs alone;
Th' unactive parts with awful filence wait,
And from its nod their birth of motion date:
Like Chaos, they obey the powerful call,
Move to its found, and into measures fall.

THE RAPE OF THEUTILLA.
Imitated from the Latin of Famianus Strada.

THE INTRODUCTORY ARGUMENT.

Theutilla, a fair young virgin, who, to avoid the addreffes of thofe many admirers her beauty drew about her, affumed the habit of a religious order, and wholly withdrew herself from the eye and converfe of the world: but the common report of her beauty had fo inflamed Amalis (a young perfon of quality) with love, that one night, in a debauch of wine, he commands his fervants to force her dormitory, and bear off, though by violence, the lovely votarefs; which having fuccefsfully performed, they bring Theutilla to their expecting lord's apartment, the scene of the enfuing poem.

Soon as the tyrant her bright form furvey'd,
He grew inflam'd with the fair captive maid:
A graceful forrow in her looks fhe bears,
Lovely with grief, and beautiful in tears;
Her mien and air refintlefs charms impart,
Forcing an eafy paffage to his heart:

Long he devours her beauties with his eyes,
While through his glowing veins th' infection flies;
Swifter than lightning to his breaft it canie,
Like that, a fair, but a destructive flame.
Yet fhe, though in her young and blooming state,
Poffeft a foul, beyond a virgin's, great;
No charms of youth her colder bofom move,
Chafte were her thoughts, and moft averse to love:

And as fome timorous hind in toils betray'd,
Thus in his arms ftrove the refifting maid;
Thus did the combat with his strict embrace,
And fpurn'd the guilty caufe of her disgrace.
Revenge the courted, but defpair'd to find
A ftrength and vigour equal to her mind;
While checks of fhame her willing hands reftrain,
Since all a virgin's force is her dildain:
Yet her refolves are nobly fix'd to die
Rather than violate her chastity,

Than break her vows to heaven, than blot her fame,

Or foil her beauties with a luftful flame.

The night from its meridian did decline, An hour propitious to the black defign: When fleep and reft their peaceful laws maintain, And o'er the globe b' infectious filence reign; While death-like flumbers every bofom feize, Unbend our minds, and weary'd bodies eafe: Now fond Amalis finds his drooping breaft Heavy with wine, with amorous cares oppreft; Not all the joys expecting lovers feel Can from his breast the drowsy charm repel; In vain from wine his paffion feeks redress, Whose treacherous force the flame it rais'd betrays: Weak and unnerv'd his useless limbs became, Bending beneath their ill-fupported frame; Vanquish'd by that repofe from which he flies, Now flumbers close his unconsenting eyes.

But fad Theutilla's cares admit no reft, Repofe is banish'd from her mournful breaft; A faithful guard does injur'd virtue keep, And from her weary limbs repulfes fleep. Oft the reflects with horror on the rape, Oft tries each avenue for her escape; Though ftill repulfe upon repulse she bears, And finds no paffage but for fighs and tears: Then, with the wildnefs of her foul let loofe, And all the fury that her wrongs infuse; She weeps, the raves, she rends her flowing hair, Wild in her grief, and raging with despair, At length her reftlefs thoughts an utterance find, And vent the anguish of her labouring miad : Whilft all diffolv'd in calmer tears she said, "Shall I again be to his arms betray'd! "Again the toil of loath'd embraces bear, "And for fome blacker scene of luft prepare! "First may his bed my guiltlefs grave become, "His marble roof my unpolluted tomb; "Then, just to honour, and unftain'd in fame, "The urn that hides my duft conceals my fhame. "Heaven gave me virtue, woman's frail defence, "And beauty to moleft that innocence: "In vain I call my virtue to my aid, "When thus by treacherous beauty I'm betray' "Yet to this hour my breaft no crime has [thene,

"known, "But, coldly chafte, with virgin brightness( "As now unfully'd by a winter's fun.

"Not arts, nor ruder force of men prevail'd, "My tears found pity, when my language fail'd. "Oft have thefe violated locks been torn, "And injur'd face their favage fury borne; "Oft have my bloody robes their crimes confek, "And pointed daggers glitter'd at my bręsß;

Yet, free from guilt, I found fome happier charm
To vanquish luft, and wildeft rage difarm.
But ah the greatest labour's yet behind;
No tears can foften this obdurate mind;
No prayers inexorable pity move,
Or guard me from the worst of ruins, love:
Though fleep and wine allow this kind reprieve,
Yet to the youth they'll ftrength and fury give;
Then, wretched maid! then think what artifice,
What charm, fhall refcue from his nerv'd em-
"brace!

When with fupplies of vigour next he storms,
And every dictate of his luft performs.
"But you, bleft power, that own a virgin's
66 name,

Protect my virtue, and defend my fame, From powerful luft, and the reproach of "fhame;

If I a ftrict religious life have led,

Drunk the cold ftream, and made the earth my "bed!

If from the world a chaste recluse I live, Redrefs my wrongs, and generous fuccour give; Allay this raging tempeft of my mind, **A virgin fhould be to a virgin kind:

Proftrate with tears from you I beg defence, Or take my life, or guard my innocence." While thus the afflicted beauty pray'd, the fpy'd A fatal dagger by Amalis' fide?

This weapon's mine!" the cries," then grafp'd "it faft)

And now the luftful tyrant fleeps his laft." With eager hand the pointed steel she draws, Ev'n murder pleases in fo juft a caufe; Nor fears, nor dangers, now resistance make, Since honour, life, and dearer fame, 's at stake. Yet in her breaft does kind compaflion plead, And fills her foul with horror of the deed; Her fex's tendernefs refumes its place, And fpreads in confcious blufhes o'er her face. Now, ftung with the remorfe of guilt, the cries, Ah, frantic girl, what wild attempt is this! Think, think, Theutilla, on the murderer's "doom,

"And tremble at a punishment to come:

Stain not thy virgin hands with guilty blood, "And dread to be fo criminally good. "Lay both thy courage and thy weapon down, Nor fly to aids a maid muft blush to own; "Nor arms, nor valour, with thy fex agree, "They wound thy fame, and taint thy modefty."

Thus different paffions combat in her mind,
Oft he's to pity, oft to rage inclin'd:
Now from her hand the hated weapon's caft,
Then feiz'd again with more impetuous hate:
Unfix'd her wishes, her refolves are vain,
What the attempts, she straight rejects again;
Her looks, the emblems of her thoughts, appear
Vary'd with rage, with pity, and defpair:
Alone her fears incline to no extreme,
Equally pois'd betwixt revenge and shame.
At length, with more prevailing rage poffeft,
Her jealous honour steels her daring breast:
The thoughts of injur'd fame new courage gave,
And nicer virtue now confirms her brave.

[down,

Then the fam'd Judith her whole mind employs, Urges her hand, and fooths the fatal choice: This great example pleas'd, inflam'd by this, With wild diforder to the youth fhe flies; One hand the wreaths within his flowing hair, The other does the ready weapon bear: "Now guide me (cries) fair Hebrew, now look "And pity labours thou haft undergone. "Direct the hand that takes thy path to fame, "And be propitious to a virgin's name, "Whofe glory's but a refuge from her fhame!" Thus rais'd by hopes, and arm'd with courage now, She with undaunted looks directs the blow: Deep in his breaft the fpacious wound the made, And to his heart dispatch'd th' unerring blade.

When their expiring lord the fervants heard, Whofe dying groans the fatal act declar'd, Like a fierce torrent, with no bounds they're flay'd But vent their rage on the defencelefs maid: Not virtue, youth, nor beauty in diftrefs, Can move their favage breafts to tendernefs: But death with horrid torments they prepare; And to her fate th' undaunted virgin bear. Tortures and death feem lovely in her eyes, Since the to honour falls a facrifice: Amidst her fufferings, ftill her mind is great, And, free from guilt, the triumphs o'er her fate.

But heaven, that's fuffering virtue's fure rewards Exerts its power, and is itself her guard: Amalis, confcious of his black offence, Now feels remorfe for her wrong'd innocence; Though now he's ftruggling in the pangs of death, And all life's purple ftream is ebbing forth: Yet, railing up his pale and drooping head, He recollects his fpirits as they fled,

And, with his last remains of voice, he Taid, "Spare the chafte maid, your impious hands re "train,

"Nor beauty with fuch infolence prophane: "Learn by my fate wrong'd innocence to fpare, "Since injur'd virtue's heaven's peculiar care."

But you, brave virgin, now fhall stand enrol'd Amongst the nobleft heroines of old: Thy fam'd attempt, and celebrated hand, Shall lafting trophies of thy glory stand; And, if my verfe the juft reward can give, Theutilla's name fhall to new ages live. For to thy fex thou haft new honours won, And France now boafts a Judith of its own

Her skilful hand first taught our strings to move, To her this facred art we owe,

Who first anticipated heaven below, And play'd the hymns on earth, that the now fings above.

[veins.

What moving charms each tuneful voice contains,
Charms that through the willing ear
A tide of pleafing raptures bear,
And, with diffusive joys, run thrilling through our
The liftening foul does fympathize,
And with each vary'd note complies:
While gay and fprightly airs delight,
Then free from cares, and unconfin'd,

It takes, in pleasing ecftafies, its flight.

With mournful founds, a fadder garb it wears,
Indulges grief, and gives a loose to tears.

Mufic's the language of the bleft above,
No voice but mufic's can exprefs
The joys that happy fouls poffefs,

[love.

Nor in juft raptures tell the wondrous power of 'Tis nature's dialect, defign'd

To charm, and to inftruct the mind.
Mufic's an univerfal good!
That does difpenfe its joys around,
In all the elegance of found,

To be by men admir'd, by angels understood.
Let every reftiefs paffion ceafe to move!
And each tumultuous thought obey
The happy influence of this day,
For mufic's unity and love.
Mufic's the foft indulger of the mind,
The kind diverter of our care,

The fureft refuge mournful grief can find;
A cordial to the breast, and charm to every ear.
Thus, when the prophet ftruck his tuneful lyre,
Saul's evil genius did retire:

In vain were remedies apply'd,
In vain all other arts were try'd:
His hand and voice alone the charm could find,
To heal his body, and compofe his mind.

Now let the trumpet's louder voice proclaim
A folemn jubilee :

For ever facred let it be,

To fkilful Jubal's, and Cecila's name.

Great Jubal, author of our lays,

Who first the hidden charms of music found;

And through their airy paths did trace
The fecret springs of found.
When from his hollow chorded fhell
The foft melodious accents fell,

With wonder and delight he play'd, [bey'd. While the harmonious ftrings his skilful hand o

But fair Cecilia to a pitch divine

Improv'd her artful lays :

When to the organ fhe her voice did join,
In the Almighty's praife;

Then choirs of liftening angels food around,
Admir'd her art, and bleft the heavenly found.

Her praife alone no tongue can reach,
But in the ftrains herfelf did teach:
Then let the voice and lyre combine,
And in a tuneful concert join;

WHAT raging thoughts tranfport the woman's breaft,

That is with love and jealousy possest!
More with revenge, than foft defires the burns,
Whofe flighted paffion meets no kind returns;
That courts the youth with long neglected
charms,

And finds her rival happy in his arms!

Dread Scylla's rocks 'tis fafer to engage, And truft a ftorm, than her deftructive rage: Not waves, contending with a boisterous wind, Threaten fo loud, as her tempeftuous mind: For feas grow calm, and raging storms abate, But most implacable's a woman's hate: Tigers and favages lefs wild appear, Than that fond wretch abandon'd to despair.

Such were the transports Dejanira felt, With fuch defpair fhe view'd the captive maid, Stung with a rival's charms, and husband's guilt: Whose fatal love her Hercules betray'd; Th' unchafte löle, but divinely fair! In love triumphant, though a flave in war; By nature lewd, and form'd for foft delight, Gay as the fpring, and fair as beams of light; Whose blooming youth would wildest rage difarm, And every eye, but a fierce rival's, charm.

Fix'd with her grief the royal matron food, When the fair captive in his arms fhe view'd: With what regret her beauties the furvey'd, And curft the power of the too lovely maid, That reap'd the joys of her abandon'd bed! Her furious looks with wild diforder glow, Looks that her envy and refentment show! To blaft that fair detefted form the tries, And lightning darts from her distorted eyes.

Then o'er the palace of false Hercules, With clamour and impetuous rage the flies; Late a dear witness of their mutual flame, But now th' unhappy object of her shame; Whose conscious roof can yield her no relief, But with polluted joys upbraids her grief.

Nor can the spacious court contain her now; It grows a fcene too narrow for her woe. Loofe and undreft all day fhe ftrays alone, Does her abode and lov'd companions fhun. In woods complains, and fighs in every groft, The mournful tale of her forfaken love.