Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

But swear henceforwards to renounce all writing,

And take this solemn oath of my inditing,

As you love ease, and hate campaigns and fighting.

Yet, faith, 't is just to make some few examples:

What if I shew'd you one or two for samples?

(Pulls one out.) Here's one desires my ladyship to meet

At the kind couch above in Bridges Street. O sharping knave! that would have you know what,

For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate. (Pulls out another.) Now, in the name of luck, I'll break this open,

20

Because I dreamt last night I had a token:
The superscription is exceeding pretty:
To the desire of all the town and city.
Now, gallants, you must know, this pre-
cious fop

Is foreman of a haberdasher's shop:
One who devoutly cheats, demure in carriage,
And courts me to the holy bands of mar-
riage;

But with a civil innuendo too,
My overplus of love shall be for you.
(Reads.) "Madam, I swear your looks are

so divine,

30

When I set up, your face shall be my sign: Tho' times are hard, to shew how I adore you, Here's my whole heart, and half a guinea

for you.

But have a care of beaux; they're false, my honey;

And, which is worse, have not one rag of money."

See how maliciously the rogue would

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Man sings. O SIGHT, the mother of desires,

What charming objects dost thou yield! 'Tis sweet, when tedious night expires,

To see the rosy morning gild

The mountain-tops, and paint the field!
But when Clorinda comes in sight,

She makes the summer's day more bright;
And when she goes away, 't is night.

Chorus. When fair Clorinda comes in sight, &c.

Woman sings. 'Tis sweet the blushing morn to view;

And plains adorn'd with pearly dew;

But such cheap delights to see,

Heaven and nature

Give each creature;

They have eyes, as well as we;

This is the joy, all joys above,

To see, to see,

That only she,

That only she we love!

ΙΟ

19

Chorus. This is the joy, all joys above, &c.

Man sings. And, if we may discover, What charms both nymph and lover, 'Tis when the fair at mercy lies,

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
[blocks in formation]

Old England,
Old England;

[blocks in formation]

She. Love has a thousand ways to please,

And hoigh for the honor of old Eng- But more to rob us of our ease:

land.

[blocks in formation]

For wakeful nights and careful days
Some hours of pleasure he repays;
But absence soon, or jealous fears,
O'erflow the joys with floods of tears.

[blocks in formation]

[These lines were written in honor of Frances, fourth daughter of Sir William Brooke (alias Cobham) and sister of the second wife of Sir John Denham, the poet. The lady married, first (before May, 1665), Sir Thomas Whitmore of Bridgenorth and Buddwas, who died in 1682; and, second, Matthew Harvey, Esq., of Twickenham, who died in 1693: she herself died in 1690. (See G. E. C.: Complete Peerage of England, etc., ii, 320, 321.) The Reverend Henry P. Prosser, vicar of Twickenham, writes to the present editor as follows:

"There is in the lobby of our church a massive monument, a pedestal with an urn upon it. On one side of the base it is thus inscribed,

Here lyeth ye Body of Matthew Harvie Esq., he dyed ye 14th of Janu', 1693. On the opposite side to this inscription are Dryden's lines to Lady Whitmore, whose name does not occur on the monument at all."

Dryden's verses were first printed in Examen Poeticum, 1693. The text is essentially the same as that on the monument.]

FAIR, kind, and true, a treasure each alone; A wife, a mistress, and a friend in one; Rest in this tomb, rais'd at thy husband's

cost,

Here sadly summing what he had, and lost. Come, virgins, ere in equal bands you join,

Come first, and offer at her sacred shrine; Pray but for half the virtues of this wife, Compound for all the rest with longer life; And wish your vows like hers may be return'd,

So lov'd when living, and when dead so mourn'd.

EPITAPH ON THE POET'S NEPHEW, ERASMUS LAWTON

[On a mural tablet in the church of Great Catworth, Huntingdonshire, there is the following inscription. The date of the verses contained in it cannot be determined: they are placed here for convenience.]

Near this Place
Was interred D: John Lawton and
Mrs Rose Driden, his 2nd wife.

He was a Pious man and learned, both in Divinity: and
In Musick and diligently improved Both Studies to
[Glory of God

And to the good of His Neighbour. She was daughter of Erasmus Driden: Son of S! Erasmus Driden of Canons Ashby in Northamptonshir and Mrs [Mary Pickering

His wife by whom He had 14 children, the Eldest was John Dryden Est the Laureat of his time who Married the Lady Elizabeth Howard Daughter to Henry [Earl of Berkshire

By whom she [sic] had 3 sons, Charles, John & Erasmus [who all died fine young Gentlemen The 2nd Brother to Mrs Lawton is the present S! Eras[mus Dryden of Canons Ashby

By lineal descent an ancient Baronet. She was very beautifull and Pleasant in Her Youth (allways Good & Charitable allmost beyond her power, in which she [followed the rare Example

of her Exelent Mother. Mrs Lawton lived in this [Town near 40 years And died Lamented Decem 26. 1710. in the 77 Yeare [of her age

Having first buried her only child Erasmus Lawton on whom her Brother wrote these lines

Stay Stranger Stay and drop one Tear She allways weeps that layd him Here

And will do, till her race is Run
His Father's fifth, her only Son.

This was placed here by a Relation of Hers
Whos friendship reaches beyond the grave.

THE LADY'S SONG

[This song is printed, with title, The Ladys Song, by Mr. Dryden, in Poetical Miscellanies, the Fifth Part, 1704, from which the present text is taken. It also appears, with the heading, The Beautiful Lady of the May, written by Mr. Dryden in the year 1691, in a volume of Miscellaneous Works, written by his Grace, George, late Duke of Buckingham... the second edition ... printed for S. Briscoe, 1704, to which is added a collection of State Poems . . . by several Hands. The song obviously refers to the banishment of James II and his queen.]

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

A PANEGYRICAL POEM DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE COUNTESS OF ABINGDON

[blocks in formation]

[The following poem was written in memory of Eleonora, Countess of Abingdon, who died on May 31, 1691. Dryden, as he tells us in his dedication, was requested by the Earl of Abingdon, with whom he was not personally acquainted, to write an elegy upon his deceased wife, whom the poet had never seen. Eleonora was first published in March, 1692 (see reference to the London Gazette in Scott-Saintsbury edition, xviii, 296), and was not reprinted until it was included in the folio Poems and Translations, 1701.]

TO THE

RIGHT HONORABLE

THE

EARL OF ABINGDON, &c.

MY LORD,

THE commands with which you honor'd me some months ago are now perform'd: they had been sooner; but betwixt ill health, some business, and many troubles, I was forc'd to defer them till this time. Ovid, going to his banishment, and writing from on shipboard to his friends, excus'd the faults of his poetry by his misfortunes; and told them that good verses never flow but from a serene and compos'd spirit. Wit, which is a kind of Mercury, with

wings fasten'd to his head and heels, can fly but slowly in a damp air. I therefore chose rather to obey you late than ill: if at least I am capable of writing anything, at any time, which is worthy your perusal and your patronage. I cannot say that I have escap'd from a shipwreck; but have only gain'd a rock by hard swimming, where I may pant a while and gather breath; for the doctors give me a sad assurance, that my disease never took its leave of any man, but with a purpose to return. However, my Lord, I have laid hold on the interval, and menag'd the small stock which age has left me, to the best advantage, in performing this inconsiderable service to my Lady's memory. We, who are priests of Apollo, have not the inspiration when we please; but must

« ПредишнаНапред »