A rural judge * dispos'd of beauty's prize; A fimple shepherd was prefer'd to Jove : Down to the mountains from the partial skies Came Juno, Pallas, and the Queen of Love, To plead for that, which was so justly given To the bright Carlifle of the Court of Heaven.
Carlifle! a name which all our woods are taught, Loud as their Amarillis, to resound: Carlifle! a name which on the bark is wrought Of every tree that 's worthy of the wound : From Phœbus' rage our shadows, and our streams, May guard us better than from Carlifle's beams.
The Countess of CARLISLE in mourning.
HEN from black clouds no part of sky is clear, But just so much as lets the fun appear; Heaven then would feem thy image, and reflect Those sable vestments, and that bright aspect. A spark of virtue by the deepest shade Of fad adversity, is fairer made; Nor less advantage doth thy beauty get: A Venus rising from a fea of jet !
Such was th' appearance of new-formed light, While yet it struggled with eternal night. Then mourn no more, lest thou admit increase Of glory, by thy noble Lord's decease.
We find not that the * laughter-loving dame Mourn'd for Anchises, 'twas enough the came To grace the mortal with her deathless bed, And that his living eyes such beauty fed : Had she been there, untimely joy through all Men's hearts diffus'd had marr'd the funeral. Those eyes were made to banish grief: as well Bright Phœbus might affect in shades to dwell, As they to put on forrow: nothing stands, But power to grieve, exempt from thy commands. If thou lament, thou must do fo alone; Grief in thy prefence can lay hold of none. Yet still perfift the memory to love Of that great Mercury of our mighty Jove: Who, by the power of his inchanting tongue, Swords from the hands of threatening Monarchs wrung. War he prevented, or foon made it cease; Instructing Princes in the arts of peace; Such as made Sheba's curious Queen refort To the † large-hearted Hebrew's famous Court. Had Homer fat amongst his wondering guests, He might have learn'd at those stupendous feafts, With greater bounty, and more sacred state, The banquets of the Gods to celebrate. But oh! what elocution might he use, What potent charms, that could so soon infuse His absent Master's love into the heart
Of Henrietta! forcing her to part
From her lov'd brother, country, and the sun; And, like Camilla, o'er the waves to run Into his arms: while the Parisian dames Mourn for the ravish'd glory; at her flames No less amaz'd, than the amazed stars, When the bold charmer of Thessalia wars With Heaven itself; and Numbers does repeat, Which call defcending Cynthia from her feat.
In answer to one who writ a Libel against the
Countess of CARLISLE.
HAT fury has provok'd thy wit to dare, With Diomede, to wound the Queen of love?
Thy mistress' envy, or thine own despair? Not the just Pallas in thy breast did move So blind a rage, with such a different fate : He honor won, where thou hast purchas'd hate.
She gave assistance to his Trojan foe;
Thou, that without a rival thou may'st love, Doft to the beauty of this Lady owe; While after her the gazing world does move. Canst thou not be content to love alone? Or, is thy mistress not content with one?
Hast thou not read of Fairy Arthur's shield, Which but difclos'd, amaz'd the weaker eyes Of proudest foes, and won the doubtful field? So shall thy rebel wit become her prize. Should thy Iambics swell into a book, All were confuted with one radiant look.
Heaven he oblig'd that plac'd her in the skies; Rewarding Phœbus for inspiring so
His noble brain, by likening to those eyes His joyful beams: but Phœbus is thy foe; And neither aids thy fancy nor thy sight; So ill thou rhym'st against so fair a light.
HEY taste of death that do
But we this paradise approach alive. Instead of Death, the dart of Love does strike; And renders all within these walls alike: The high in titles, and the shepherd, here Forgets his greatness, and forgets his fear. All stand amaz'd, and, gazing on the Fair, Lose thought of what themselves or others are : Ambition lofe; and have no other scope, Save Carlifle's favour to employ their hope. The * Thracian could (though all those tales were true The bold Greeks tell) no greater wonders do : Before his feet so sheep and lions lay,
Fearless, and wrathless, while they heard him play. The gay, the wife, the gallant, and the grave, Subdued alike, all but one paffion have : No worthy mind, but finds in her's there is Something proportion'd to the rule of his :
While she with chearful, but impartial grace, (Born for no one, but to delight the race
Of men) like Phœbus, so divides her light,
And warms us, that she stoops not from her height.
TO PHYLLIS.
PHYLLIS, 'twas Love that injur'd you,
And on that rock your Thyrsis threw;
Who for proud Cælia could have dy'd, While you no less accus'd his pride.
Fond Love his darts at random throws, And nothing springs from what he sows: From foes discharg'd as often meet The shining points of arrows fleet, In the wide air creating fire; As fouls that join in one defire.
Love made the lovely Venus burn In vain, and for the * cold youth mourn, Who the pursuit of churlish beafts Prefer'd, to fleeping on her breasts.
Love makes so many hearts the prize Of the bright Carlisle's conquering eyes; Which she regards no more, than they The tears of lesser Beauties weigh. So have I seen the loft clouds pour Into the sea an useless shower; And the vex'd failors curse the rain, For which poor shepherds pray'd in vain.
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