Ah simple Youth, how oft will he
Of thy chang'd Faith complain?
And his own Fortunes find to be
So airy and so vain,
Of so Cameleon-like an hew;
That still their colour changes with it too?
How oft, alas, will he admire
The blackness of the Skies?
Trembling to hear the Winds sound higher,
And see the billows rise;
Poor unexperienc'ed He
Who ne're, alas, before had been at Sea!
He'enjoyes thy calmy Sun-shine now,
And no breath stirring hears,
In the clear heaven of thy brow,
No smallest Cloud appears.
He sees thee gentle, fair, and gay,
And trusts the faithless April of thy May.
Unhappy thrice unhappy He,
T'whom Thou untry'ed dost shine! But there's no danger now for Me, Since o're Loretto's Shrine
In witness of the Shipwrack past My consecrated Vessel hangs at last.
In imitation of Martials Epigram.
Si tecum mihi chare Martialis, &c. L. 5. Ep. 21.
F, dearest Friend, it my good Fate might be
T' enjoy at once a quiet Life and Thee;
If we for Happiness could leisure find,
And wandring Time into a Method bind,
We should not sure the Great Mens favour need,
Nor on long Hopes, the Courts thin Diet, feed.
We should not Patience find daily to hear,
The Calumnies, and Flatteries spoken there.
We should not the Lords Tables humbly use,
Or talk in Ladies Chambers Love and News;
But Books, and wise Discourse, Gardens and Fields,
And all the joys that unmixt Nature yields.
Thick Summer shades where Winter still does ly,
Bright Winter Fires that Summers part supply.
Sleep not controll'd by Cares, confin'd to Night,
Or bound in any rule but Appetite.
Free, but not savage or ungracious Mirth,
Rich Wines to give it quick and easie birth.
A few Companions, which our selves should chuse,
A Gentle Mistress, and a Gentler Muse.
Such, dearest Friend, such without doubt should be
Our Place, our Business, and our Companie.
Now to Himself, alas, does neither Live,
But sees good Suns, of which we are to give
A strict account, set and march thick away;
Knows a man how to Live, and does he stay?
Argarita first possest,
If I remember well, my brest,
Margarita first of all;
But when a while the wanton Maid
With my restless Heart had plaid,
Martha took the flying Ball.
Martha soon did it resign
To the beauteous Catharine.
Beauteous Catharine gave place
(Though loth and angry she to part
With the possession of my Heart)
To Elisa's conqu'ering face.
Elisa till this Hour might reign
Had she not Evil Counsels ta'ne. Fundamental Laws she broke, And still new Favorites she chose, Till up in Arms my Passions rose, And cast away her yoke.
Mary then and gentle Ann
Both [t]o reign at once began.
Alternately they sway'd,
And sometimes Mary was the Fair,
And sometimes Ann the Crown did wear,
And sometimes Both I' obey'd.
Another Mary then arose
And did rigorous Laws impose.
A mighty Tyrant she!
Long, alas, should I have been
Under that Iron-Scepter'd Queen,
Had not Rebecca set me free.
When fair Rebecca set me free,
'Twas then a golden Time with me.
But soon those pleasures fled,
For the gracious Princess dy'd
In her Youth and Beauties pride,
And Judith reigned in her sted.
One Month, three Days, and half an Hour
Judith held the Soveraign Power.
Wondrous beautiful her Face,
But so weak and small her Wit,
That she to govern was unfit,
And so Susanna took her place.
But when Isabella came
Arm'd with a resistless flame
And th' Artillery of her Eye;
Whilst she proudly marcht about
Greater Conquests to find out,
She beat out Susan by the By.
But in her place I then obey'd
Black-ey'd Besse, her Viceroy-Maid, To whom ensu'd a Vacancy. Thousand worse Passions then possest The Interregnum of my brest.
Bless me from such an Anarchy!
Gentle Henriette than
And a third Mary next began, Then Jone, and Jane, and Audria. And then a pretty Thomasine,
And then another Katharine,
And then a long Et cætera.
But should I now to you relate,
The strength and riches of their state, The Powder, Patches, and the Pins, The Ribbans, Jewels, and the Rings, The Lace, the Paint, and warlike things That make up all their Magazins :
If I should tell the politick Arts
To take and keep mens hearts,
The Letters, Embassies, and Spies,
The Frowns, and Smiles, and Flatteries,
The Quarrels, Tears, and Perjuries,
Numberless, Nameless Mysteries!
And all the Little Lime-twigs laid
By Matchavil the Waiting-Maid;
I more voluminous should grow
(Chiefly if I like them should tell
All Change of Weathers that befell)
Then Holinshead or Stow.
But I will briefer with them be,
Since few of them were long with Me.
An higher and a nobler strain
My present Emperess does claim,
Heleonora, First o'th' Name;
Whom God grant long to reign!
Upon his two first Books of Gondibert, finished before his voyage to America.
Ethinks Heroick Poesie till now
Like some fantastick Fairy Land did show,
Gods, Devils, Nymphs, Witches and Gyants race,
And all but Man in Mans chief work had place.
Thou like some worthy Knight with sacred Arms
Dost drive the Monsters thence, and end the Charms.
Instead of those dost Men and Manners plant,
The things which that rich Soil did chiefly want.
Yet even thy Mortals do their Gods excell,
Taught by thy Muse to Fight and Love so well.
By fatal hands whilst present Empires fall,
Thine from the Grave past Monarchies recall.
So much more thanks from humane kind does merit
The Poets Fury, then the Zelots Spirit.
And from the Grave thou mak'est this Empire rise,
Not like some dreadful Ghost t'affright our Eyes,
But with more Luster and triumphant state,
Then when it crown'd at proud Verona sate.
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