Heaven turn the omen from their image bere!
May he with joy the well-placed laurel wear!
Great Virgil's happier fortune may he find,
And be our Cæsar, like Augustus, kind!
But let not this disturb thy tuneful head;
Thou writest for thy delight, and not for bread:
Thou art not cursed to write thy verse with care,
But art above what other poets fear.
What may we not expect from such a hand,
That has, with books, himself at free command?
Thou know'st in youth what age has sought in vain;
And bring'st forth sons without a mother's pain.
So easy is thy sense, thy verse so sweet,
Thy words so proper, and thy phrase so fit;
We read, and read again: and still admire [fire!
Whence came this youth, and whence this wondrous
Pardon this rapture, Sir! But who can be
Cold and unmoved, yet have his thoughts on thee?
Thy goodness may my several faults forgive,
And by your help these wretched lines may live.
But if, when view'd by your severer sight,
They seem unworthy to behold the light;
Let them with speed in deserved flames be thrown!
They'll send no sighs, nor murmur out a groan ;
But, dying silently, your justice own.
WORTHY FRIEND SIR THOMAS HIGGONS,
UPON HIS TRANSLATION OF THE VENETIAN TRIUMPH.
THE winged Lion's' not so fierce in fight
As Liberi's hand presents him to our sight;
Nor would his pencil make him half so fierce,
Or roar so loud, as Businello's verse:
your translation does all three excel, The fight, the piece, and lofty Businel.
As their small galleys may not hold compare
With our tall ships, whose sails employ more air;
So does the Italian to your genius vail,
Moved with a fuller and a nobler gale.
Thus while your Muse spreads the Venetian story,
You make all Europe emulate her glory:
You make them blush weak Venice should defend
The cause of Heaven,while they for words contend;
Shed Christian blood, and populous cities rase,
Because they're taught to use some different phrase,
If, listening to your charms, we could our jars
Compose, and on the Turk discharge these wars,
Our British arms the sacred tomb might wrest
From pagan hands, and triumph o'er the East;
And then you might our own high deeds recite,
And with great Tasso celebrate the fight.
OF THE DIFFERENT SUCCESS OF THEIR LOVES.
THRICE happy pair! of whom we cannot know
Which first began to love, or loves most now:
Fair course of passion! where two lovers start
And run together, heart still yoked with heart:
Successful youth! whom Love has taught the way
To be victorious in the first essay.
Sure love's an art best practised at first
And where the' experienced still prosper worst!
I with a different fate pursued in vain
The haughty Calia, till my just disdain
Of her neglect, above that passion borne,
Did pride to pride oppose, and scorn to scorn,
Now she relents; but all too late to move
A heart directed to a nobler love.
The scales are turn'd, her kindness weighs no more
Now than my vows and service did before.
So in some well-wrought hangings you may see
How Hector leads, and how the Grecians flee :
Here the fierce Mars his courage so inspires,
That with bold hands the Argive fleet he fires:
But there, from Heaven, the blue-eyed virgin' falls,
And frighted Troy retires within her walls:
They that are foremost in that bloody race,
Turn head anon, and give the conquerors chase.
So like the chances are of love and war,
That they alone in this distinguish'd are,
In love the victors from the vanquish'd fly;
They fly that wound, and they pursue that die,
FAIREST piece of well-form'd earth!
Urge not thus your haughty birth :
The power which you have o'er us lies
Not in your race, but in your eyes.
None but a prince!'-Alas! that voice
Confines you to a narrow choice.
Should you no honey vow to taste,
But what the master-bees have placed
In compass of their cells, how small
A portion to your share would fall?
Nor all appear, among those few,
Worthy the stock from whence they grew,
which at the root is bred
In trees, through all the boughs is spread;
But virtues which in parents shine,
Make not like progress through the line.
'Tis not from whom, but where, we live :
The place does oft those graces give.
Great Julius, on the mountains bred,
A flock perhaps, or herd, had led.
He that the world subdued', had been
But the best wrestler on the green.
"Tis art and knowledge which draw forth
The hidden seeds of native worth:
They blow those sparks, and make them rise
Into such flames as touch the skies.
To the old heroes hence was given
A pedigree which reach'd to Heaven :
Of mortal seed they were not held,
Which other mortals so excell'd.
And beauty, too, in such excess
As yours, Zelinda! claims no less.
Smile but on me, and you shall scorn,
Henceforth, to be of princes born.
I can describe the shady grove
Where your loved mother slept with Jove,
And yet excuse the faultless dame,
Caught with her spouse's shape and name.
Thy matchless form will credit bring
To all the wonders I shall sing.
MADAM! new years may well expect to find
Welcome from you, to whom they are so kind;
Still as they pass they court and smile on you,
And make your beauty, as themselves, seem new.
To the fair Villars we Dalkeith prefer,
And fairest Morton now as much to her:
So like the sun's advance your titles show,
Which as he rises does the warmer grow.
But thus to style you fair, your sex's praise,
Gives you but myrtle, who may challenge bays.
From armed foes to bring a royal prize1,
Shows your brave heart victorious as your eyes,
If Judith, marching with the general's head,
Can give us passion when her story's read,
What may the living do, which brought away,
Though a less bloody, yet a nobler prey;
Who from our flaming Troy, with a bold hand,
Snatch'd her fair charge, the Princess, like a brand?
A brand! preserved to warm some prince's heart,
And make whole kingdoms take her brother's 2
So Venus, from prevailing Greeks, did shrowd
The hope of Rome3, and saved him in a cloud,
This gallant act may cancel all our rage,
Begin a better, and absolve this age.
Dark shades become the portrait of our time;
Here weeps Misfortune, and there triumphs Crime!
1 Henrietta Maria, youngest daughter to King Charles I. 2 King Charles II,
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