MUSA PROTERVA:
LOVE-POEMS OF THE RESTORATION.
Gay,fro/ic versefor idle hours,
Ligkt as thefoam whence Venus sprang ;
Strains heard of old in courtly bowers,
When Nelly danced and Durfey sang.
MUSA PROTERVA:
LOVE-POEMS OF THE
RESTORATION.
j EDITED BY
A> H. BULLEN.
LONDON:
PRIVATELY PRINTED.
1889.
LlMITED EDITION.
n
/a/3
68
PREFACE.
THE poems in my anthology Speculum Amantis
belonged, with few exceptions, to the first
half of the seventeenth century. In the present
volume I have attempted to deal with the love-
poetry of the Restoration and Revolution.
Manners were loose in the days of " old Rowley,"
and poets too frequently indulged in ribaldry.1
No sensible reader will tolerate the foul and tedious
grossness of the abandoned Rochester; and the
obscenities of Restoration Drolleries have no place
in honest literature. Who would care to watch a
crew of goldfinders dancing round the shrine
of Venus Cloacina? By all means let us shuh
such unedifying spectacles ; but we need not wrap
a thick cloak of prudishness about us and put on
1 Professor Alexandre Beljame, in the early chapters of
his learned and valuable work Le Public et les Hommes de
Leltres en Angkterre au Dix-huitibnc Sicc/c, discusses this
subject very fully.
vi PREFACE.
a vinegar aspect. t I like to see the Muse in good
humour. Prior's lightest verses do not offend
me, and I am enlivened by Sedley's gaiety. A
few of the poems here collected may occasionally
pass the bounds of strict decorum ; but it will be
found that these delinquencies (never of a violent
character) are atoned by some happy jerk of fancy
or playful sally of wit.
The Restoration was not one of the great ages
of English poetry. Even in the poorest of Eliza-
bethan dramatists and lyrists we find flashes of
Shakespearean imagination, stray breaths of divine
harmony, touches of romantic tenderness. But
one may read Shadwell's plays (and they are well
worth reading) from end to end without once
catching a note of higher poetry. Shadwell is
thoroughly representative of his age ; he was the
Ben Jonson of the Restoration, — Jonson stripped
of his graces. Of the noble dramatists — "the
giant race before the flood" — Shirley alone sur-
vived. Oldys tells how " young persons of parts "
used to resort to Chapman in his declining days
" as a poetical chronicle " ; but no such homage
was paid to Shirley by the wits of the Restoration.
The author of The Lady of Pleasure and The
PREFACE. n
Grateful Servant, The Cardinal and The Traitor,
would surely in any generous age have won the
respect and gratitude of younger aspirants to
fame but Shirley at the end of his honourable
career had to encounter neglect and contumely.
There was a dash of vulgarity, an absence of re-
finement and romance, in the dissipation of the
king and his courtiers. In such uncongenial soil
the rarer flowers of poetry could not take root.
The finest poem in the present collection is Andrew
MarvelFs " Address to his Coy Mistress." There
we have the clear spirit of poetry ! —
. . .* " But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near,
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eteraity." . . .
This is hardly the strain in which the Court poets
wooed their mistresses. Marvell, the friend of
Milton, was a rare visitor at Court.
Cowley does not come within our scope, for
"The Mistress" was published in 1645. It is said
that in later life he showed "an aversion to the
company of women "; he did indeed pay (in 1664)
a poetical tribute to the memory of Katherine
Philips, the matchless Orinda, but long before the
viii PREFACE.
Restoration he had ceased to write love-poetry.
Waller, who died in 1687 at the ripe age of eighty-
two, was regarded in Charles II.'s time and for
many years afterwards as the master of harmonious
numbers, the refiner of English speech, the Phcenix
of politeness. " His compositions," wrote Gerard
Langbaine in 1690, "are universally applauded;
and they are thought fit to serve as a standard for
all succeeding Poems." He is only now recover-
ing from the damage inflicted on his reputation by
such extravagant eulogy. His happiest lyrics were
written in the days of Charles I. ; but the tone
and temper of his poetry connect him rather with
the writers of the Restoration than with Suckling
or Randolph. For chronological reasons I have
reluctantly excluded him from my anthology.
Flatman and Charles Cotton are not seen to
best advantage in their love-poetry. I have a
great liking for both, and heartily regret that the
former bore so unfortunate a name. Undoubtedly
Flatman was a man of genius. His miniatures,
though they are inferior at all points to Cooper's
matchless masterpieces, are often singularly attrac-
tive, and his verses in praise of Faithorne are a
splendid tribute to the worth of that distinguished
PREFACE. ix
master; but the fine and solemn poems inspired
by his meditations on death constitute his chief
claim to remembrance. Nahum Tate was a
fervent admirer of Flatman ; both were serious-
minded poets (if Tate may be reckoned among
the poets) in an age of frivolity. Charles Cotton's
accomplishments were many and varied. He
could throw a fly with any man in Christendom ;
he was a recognized authority on gardening;
he made an excellent translation of Montaigne ;
he wrote that most entertaining and ingenious
treatise The Compleat Gamester; and he keenly
appreciated the virtues of nut-brown ale. His
crediiors harried him, and, to escape their impor-
tunity, he had often to fly from his house at
Beresford and take refuge in a cave beside the
Dove. But, in debt or in drinkj he was always
" honest cheerful Master Cotton." His poems
addressed to Izaak Walton, and his ode on Winter,
are not likely \o be lightly forgotten. Here was a
man of parts, a free frank jovial spirit, a boon-
companion, a scholar, and a poet !
Sir William Davenant continued his literary
activity to the end of his days. Born in 1605, he
had been a copious writer for the stage in the reign
b
x PREFACE.
of Charles I. An ardent loyalist, he had suffered
some inconveniences — in the way of imprisonment
— at the hands of the Parliamentarians. Much of
his time was spent in France, where he had the
misfortune to lose his nose. His briskness as-
tonished younger men. M I found him," said
Dryden, " of so quick a fancy that nothing was
proposed to him on which he could not suddenly
produce a thought extremely pleasant and surpris-
ing." On Restoration literature his influence was
considerable.1
The songs in Dryden's plays are cheerful and
sprightly. In the higher graces of poetry they are
infinitely inferior to Fletcher's, but they are very
good of their kind. With all his consummate
genius Dryden could not reproduce such strains
as "Lay a garland on my hearse " or " God Lyaeus
ever young." Mrs. Behn, the divine Astraea, was
undoubtedly possessed of lyrical skill. The
famous " Love in fantastic triumph sate " has been
justly admired by a host of critics ; but equally
admirable is her impassioned song in praise of
1 The best account of Davenant is to be found in Mr.
Joseph Knight's admirable article contributed to the Dic-
tionary of National Biography.
PREFACE. xi
Love, "O Love, that stronger art than wine."1
One of the lightest and happiest lyrists of the
Restoration was Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset.
His song written at sea the night before an en-
gagement,8 M To all you ladies now at land," was
very popular and provoked many imitations and
parodies. He was the early patron of Prior, who
attributed to him more virtues and talents than
were ever centred in a single individual since the
world began.
1 But did Mrs. Behn write these fine verses ? They first
appeared in her comedy The Lucky Chanee, 1687. Henry
Playford, a well-known publisher of music, issued in the
same year the Fourth Book of The Theater of Music, where
" O Love, that stronger art " appeared with the heading
" The Song in Madam Bhen's last new Play, sung by Mr.
Bowman, set by Dr. John Blow." At the end of the song
Playford adds, " These words by Mr. Ousley." It is possible
that Playford was misinformed ; but playwrights were in the
habit of introducing songs written by their friends (frequently
by some " person of quality "). Mrs. Behn usually acknow-
ledges her obligations ; but she may have been neglectful on
the present occasion. Ousley's claim cannot be lightly set aside.
8 " I have heard," says Dr. Johnson, "from the late Earl
of Orrery, who was likely to have good hereditary intelligence,
that Lord Buckhurst had been a week employed upon it, and
only retouched or finished it on the memorable evening. But
even this, whatever it may subtract from his facility, leaves
him his courage."
xii PREFACE.
Some specimens of the abilities of genial Tom
Durfey have, of course, been included. Superfine
critics sneer at honest Tom, but the gay rollicking
ballad " The Winchester Wedding " will survive
the assaults of these worthies. In his lifetime
Durfey was attacked with spiteful virulence by
Tom Brown, but he did not allow himself to be
disconcerted by the snarls and snaps of that
malicious creature. Of late he has found a stal-
wart champion in the person of the Rev. J. W.
Ebsworth, editor of The Roxburghe Ballads, who
has sounded his praises in prose and verse. Tom
Brown hardly deserves a place in my anthology ;
but I have found room for one copy of verses — a
clever imitation of one of MartiaFs epigrams.
John Oldmixon, the pamphleteer, was a waspish
person. He was continually attacking somebody,
and even ventured to have his fling at Pope, who
promptly gibbeted him in The Dunciad. As he was
universally disliked, his verses were usually kept out
of the miscellanies of the time ; but from his little
volume of poems in the manner of Anacreon,
published in 1696, I have chosen some dainty
trifles.
I have stopped at the last decade of the seven-
FREFACE. xiii
teenth century, though I should have liked to
advance a little further. Of John Bancks (not the
playwright), who trod in the steps of La Fontaine
and Prior, it would have been pleasant to give
some specimens; for his poems are somewhat
scarce.
From Sir Charles Sedley I have drawn very
freely. In his own sphere Sedley is unapproach-
able ; such songs as " Love still has soraething of
1 The reader shall have a taste of Bancks' quality : the
mirthful catastrophe must atone for the freedom of the writing.
" A Fragment.
In Chloe's chamber she and I
Together sate, no creature nigh ;
The time and place combined to move
A longing for the joys of love.
I sighed and kissed, and pressed her hand ;
Did all to make her understand.
She, pretty, tender-hearted creature
Obeyed the dictates of good nature,
As far as modesty would let her :
A melting virgin seldom speaks
But with her breasts and eyes and cheeks :
Nor was it hard from these to find
That Chloe had — almost — a mind.
Thus far 'twas well ; but, to proceed,
What should I do ? Grow bold— I did.
At last she faltered ' What woukTst have ? '
' Your love,1 said I, ' or else my grave.'
xiv PREFACE.
the sea " or " Phillis is my only joy " easily out-
distance all rivals. He does not occupy an
exalted place in English literature; but his seat
is secure.
I need not enter into further particulars about
the contents of this little volume. The reader
must not expect to find poetry of the highest
order ; but if he can appreciate polished verse he
will not be dissatisfied. We seldom leave, it is
true, the region of conventionality. The groves
4 Suppose it were the first,' quoth she,
4 Could you for ever constant be ? '
4 For ever, Chloe, by those eyes,
Those bubbies which do fall and rise,
By all that's soft and all that's fair,
By your whole sacred self, I swear.
Your fondest wishes ne'er shall crave
So constant, so complete a slave.'
4 Damon, you know too well the art,'
She sighing said, 4 to reach my heart.
Yet oh ! I can't, I won't comply —
Why will you press ? dear Damon, why ? '
Desunt caetera.
For Chloe, cotning in ont day,
As on tny desk the copy lay, —
4 What tneans this rhytningfool f ' she cries,
4 JVJiy, somefolk tnay believe these lies l '
So on theflame she threw the sheet ;
/ burned tny hand to save this bit. "
PREFACE. xv
in which our Strephons and Chloes disport them-
selves are not the green pleasaunces that listened
to the pipings of Nicholas Breton's Passionate
Shepherd. Our Arcadia is in Hyde Park and the
Mulberry Garden ; our nymphs are modishly
attired, and our love-sick swains are powdered
beaux.
LIST OF AUTHORS.
PAGE
Atterbury, Francis, Bishop of Rochester . . .117
Ayres, Philip 102-103
Behn, Aphara 50-56
Brome, Alexander .8-10
Brown, Tom 113-114
Cavendish, William, Duke of Newcastle 1
Congreve, William 105-107
Cotton, Charles 13-16
Davenant, Sir William 2-7
Dryden, John 20-30
Duffett, Thomas 95-98
Durfey, Thomas 57-66
Etherege, Sir George 45-49
Farquhar, George 127-128
«» "inch, Anne, Countess of Winchilsea .... 108
Flatman, Thomas 17-19
Granville, George, Lord Lansdowne . . . 110-112
Howard, Hon. James 87
xviii LIST OF AUTHORS.
PAGE
Marvell, Andrew 10-13
Motteux, Peter Anthony 122-124
Nevj Airs and Dialogues 98-100
Oldmixon, John 1 18-122
Otway, Thomas 91
Philips, Katherine 19-20
Playford, John (Fifth Book of Choice Airs) . . 101-102
Rymer, Thomas ...... 125-127
Sackville, Charles, Earl of Dorset . . . 30-40
Scroope, Sir Car " 49-50
Sedley, Sir Charles 66-86
Shadwell, Thomas 88-90
Sheffield, John, Duke of Euckinghamshire . . 103-104
Southerne, Thomas 109
Tate, Nahum 92
Walsh, William 114-117
Westminster Drollery 93"94
Wharton, Anne, Marchioness of 100- 101
Wilmot, John, Earl of Rochester . . . 41-45
Wilson, John 107-108
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
A thousand martyrs I have made (Aphara Behn)
After the pangs of a desperate lover (Dryden)
Ah, Chloris, that I now could sit (SedUy) .
Ah, Chloris, 'tis time to disarm your bright eyes
(Charles SackvilU, Earl of Dorset) .
Ah he who first found out the way (Aphara Behn)
Ah how sweet it is to love (Dryden) . . .
All my past life is mine no more (John Wilmot, Earl
of Rochester)
Amintas, I ara come alone (Sedley) . . .
As Amoret with Phillis sat (Sir Car Scroo/e)
As Chloris full of harmless thought (John Wilmot, Earl
of Rochester)
At noon, in a sunshiny day (Charles Sackville, Earl of
Dorset) . . . . . . .
At Winchester was a wedding (Durfey)
Aurelia, art thou mad (SedUy) ....
Be not too proud, imperious dame (Flatman)
Before the youthful spring had dyed (Duffett)
Beneath a myrtle shade (Dryden)
Boasting fops, who court the fair (Motteux)
Cselia, too late you would repent ( Walsh) .
Calm was the even and clear was the sky (Dryden)
PAGE
24
66
39
54
20
43
76
49
44
37
57
69
17
95
25
124
114
21
xx INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
PAGK
Celimena, of my heart (Dryden) .... 22
Celinda, think not by disdain (Sedley) ... 70
Chloe's a nymph in flowery groves (Durfey) . . 62
Chloe's the wonder of her sex (George Granville, Lord
Lansdowne) m
Chloris, I cannot say your eyes (Sedlcy) ... 72
Come, Celia, let's agree at last (John Sheffield, Duke 0/
Buckinghamshire)
Damon, if thou wilt believe me (Sedley)
Damon, if you'd have me true (Aphara Bchn)
Distracted with care ( Walsh) ....
Dorinda's sparkling wit and eyes (Charles Sackville,
Earl of Dorset)
104
81
55
"5
39
Fair Amoret is gone astray (Congreve) . . .106
Farewell, ungrateful traitor (Dryden) .... 29
Flavia the least and slightest toy (Atterbury) . .117
Forbear, bold youth ; all's heaven here (Katherin*
Philips) 19
Give me leave to rail at you (John Wilmot, Earl of
Rochester) 42
Had we but world enough and time (Marvell) . . 10
How hardly I concealed .my tears (Anne, Marchioness
of WharUm) 100
I did but look and love a-while (Otway) ... 91
I followed fame and got renown (Durfey) ... 64
I love, but she alone shall know (Motteux) . . . 123
I must confess I am untrue (John Sheffield, Duke 0/
Buckinghamshire) 103
If she be not as kind as fair (Etherege) ... 45
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
Impatient with desire, at last (George Granville, Lord
Lansdoiom) ........
In vain, Clemene, you bestow (Charles Sackville, Earl
of Dorsct)
It is not, Celia, in our power (Etherege) . .
Ladies, farewell, I must retire (James Hotvard) .
Ladies, though to your conquering eyes (Etherege)
Late when Love I seemed to slight (Rymer)
Like a dog with a bottle fast tied to his tail (Flatman)
Love in fantastic triumph sate (Aphara Behn)
Love still has somethrng of the sea (Sedley) .
Love, when 'tis true, needs not the aid (Sedley) .
Maids, beware ! maids, beware ! (New Airs and Dia
logues)
Man is for the woman made (Motteux)
May the ambitious ever find (Charles Sackville, Earl of
Dorset)
Methinks the poor town has been troubled too long
(Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset) .
More love or more disdain I crave (New Airs and
Dialogites)
My dear mistress has a heart (John Wiimot, Earl of
Rochester)
My lodging is on the cold ground (Davenant)
Not, Cselia, that I juster am (Sedley) .
Nymph Fanaret, the gentlest maid (Nahum Tate)
O happy flea, that may'st both kiss and bite (Shadwell) 88
O Love, that stronger art than wine (Aphara Behn) . 5 1
O 'tis sweet,"'tis wondrous sweet (Oldmixon) . .118
O what a pleasure 'tis to find (Aphara Behn) . . 53
Oh, how the hand the lover ought to prize (Aphara
Bchn) 56
40
47
87
45
126
18
5o
75
85
100
122
33
35
98
4i
2
73
92
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
Persuade me not there is a grace (Anne Finch, Countess
ef Winchilsea)
Phillis, I expect caresses (Rymer)
Phillis is my only joy (Sedlej)
Phillis, let's shun the common fate (Sedley)
Phillis, men say that all my vows (Sedley)
Phillis, the fairest of Love's foes (Charles Sackville,
Earl of Dorset)
Phillis, this early zeal assuage (Sedley) J
Pious Selinda goes to prayers (Congreve)
Preserve thy sighs, unthrifty girl (Davenant)
Prithee, Chloe, not so fast (Oldmixon)
Pursuing beauty, men descry (Southerne) .
Smooth was the water, calm the air (Sedley)
So well Corinna likes the joy (Gearge Cranville, Lord
Lansdowne)
Some thirty or forty or fifty at least (Durfey)
Still wilt thou sigh, and still in vain (Shadwelt)
Sweet, use your time ; abuse your time (Durfey)
Sweetest bud of beauty, may (Etherege)
Tell me, Jenny, tell me roundly (John PlayforcTs Fifth
Book of Choice Airs)
Tell me no more I am deceived (Etherege) .
Tell me no more I am deceived (Congreve) .
Tell me not of a face that's fair (AUxander Brome)
The day is come, I see it rise (Dryden)
The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest (Da-»enant) .
The night her blackest sable wore (Durfey)
There's none so pretty ( Westminster Drollery) .
Think'st thou that this love can stand (Marvelt) .
Those arts which common beauties move ( Oldmixon)
Thou fool ! if madness be so rife (Cotton) .
108
125
80
71
68
34
74
106
6
119
109
79
112
65
89
65
46
101
48
105
8
28
6
60
93
12
ni
16
INDEX OF FIRST LINES.
Thus Damon knocked at Celia's door {Farquhar)
'Tis true I never was in love (Alexander Brotnc) .
To all you ladies now at land {Charles SackvUle, Earl
ofDorsef)
To charming Cselia's arms I flew ( Tom Brown) .
Was ever man of Nature's framing (Cotton)
Well-placed in Love's triumphant chariot high ( William
Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle)
Were I to take wife (John fVUson) .
When, Cselia, must my old day set {Cotton)
When first I made love to my Chloris (Sedley>)
When I a lover pale do see {New Airs and Dialogues)
When light begins the eastern heaven to grace {Philip
Ayres)
When with Flavia I am toying {Oldmixon) .
Whilst Alexis lay prest {Dryden)
Why, cruel creature, why so bent {George Cranville,
Lord Lansdowne)
Why dost thou seem to boast, vain-glorious sun
(Davenant)
Young Corydon and Phillis {Sedley) .
Young Philander wooed me long (Durfey) .
Your beauty, ripe, and calm, and fresh {Davenant)
127
9
30
"3
13
1
107
14
84
99
102
120
26
82
63
5
MUSA PROTERVA.
By William Cavendish,
DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.
From The Humorous
Lwers, 1677.
WELL-PLACED inLove's triumphantchariot
high,
Be drawn with milk-white turtles through the sky,
And have for footmen Cupids running by.
A poet coachman with celestial fire,
His gentle whip of melting pure desire,
Shall drive us while I do thy eyes admire.
Imperial laurel deck our temples round,
As victors or as heated poets crowned,
Scorning to have commerce with the dull ground
Thus we will drive o'er mighty hills of snow,
Viewing poor mortal lovers here below,
Wretches alas ! that know not where we go.
B
MUSA PROTERVA.
From Sir William Dave-
nant's The Rivals, 1668.
M
Y lodging ' is on the cold ground,
And very hard is my fare,
1 This song is parodied in Hon. James Howard's All
Mistaken, or tJu Mad Couplc, 1672. In Speculum Amantis,
p. 89, I gave another song from The Rivals. I may find
room in this footnote for an earlier love-song, taken from
The Triumphs ofthe Prince a"Amour, 1635? —
" Unarm, unarm ! no more your fights
Must cause the virgins tears,
But such as in the silent nights
Spring rather from their fears.
" Such diffrence as when doves do bill
Must now be all your strife ;
For all the blood that you shall spill
Will usher in a life.
" And when your ladies, falsely coy,
Shall timorous appear,
Believe they then would fain enjoy
What they pretend to fear.
" Breathe then each other's breath, and kiss
Your souls to union ;
And whilst they shall enjoy this bliss,
Your bodies, too, are one.
" To-morrow will the hasty sun
Be feared more of each lover
For hind'ring to repeat what's done
Than what it may discover."
MUSA PROTERVA.
But that which troubles me most is
The unkindness of my dear.
Yet still I cry, O turn, love,
And I prithee, love, turn to me ;
For thou art the man that I long for,
And, alack ! what remedy ?
I'll crown thee with a garland of straw then,
And Fll marry thee with a rush ring,
My frozen hopes shall thaw then,
And merrily we will sing.
O turn to me, my dear love,
And prithee, love, turn to me,
For thou art the man that alone canst
Procure my liberty.
But, if thou wilt harden thy heart still
And be deaf to my pitiful moan,
Then I must endure the smart still
And tumble in straw alone :
Yet still I cry, O turn, love,
And I prithee, love, turn to me,
For thou art the man that alone art
The cause of my misery.
MUSA PROTERVA.
By Sni William Davenant.
Against Women's Pride.
"\ T 7 HY dost thou seem to boast, vain-glorious
™ * sun ?
Why should thy bright complexion make thee
proud ?
Think but how often since thy race begun
Thou wert eclipsed, then blush behind a cloud !
Or why look you, fair Empress of the night,
So big upon 't, when you at full appear ?
Remember yours is but a borrowed light ;
Then shrink with paleness in your giddy sphere !
If neither sun nor moon can justify
Their pride, how ill it women then befits,
That are on earth but ignes faiui%
That lead poor men to wander from their wits !
MUSA PROTERVA.
By SlR WlLLIAM DAVENANT.
The Philosopher and the Lover ; to a
MlSTRESS DYING.
Lover.
YOUR beauty, ripe, and calm, and fresh,
As eastern summers are,
Must now, forsaking time and flesh,
Add light to some small star.
Philosopher. Whilst she yet lives, were stars
decayed,
Their light by hers relief might find ;
But Death will lead her to a shade
Where Love is cold and Beauty blind.
Lover. Lovers, whose priests all poets are,
Think every mistress, when she dies,
Is changed at least into a star :
And who dares doubt the poets wise ?
Philosopher. But ask not bodies doomed to die
To what abode they go ;
Since Knowledge is but SorroVs spy
It is not safe to know.
MUSA PROTERVA.
By SlR WlLLIAM DAVENANT.
rT"^HE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest
■*• And, climbing, shakes his dewy wings ;
He takes this window for the east,
And. to implore your light he sings :
Awake, awake ! the morn will never rise
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.
The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,
The ploughman from the sun his season takes ;
But still the lover wonders what they are
Who look for day before his mistress wakes.
Awake, awake ! break through your veils of lawn,
Then draw your curtains and begin the dawn.
By SlR WlLLIAM DAVENANT.
The Soldier going to the Field.
PRESERVE thy sighs, unthrifty girl,
To purify the air ;
Thy tears to thread, instead of pearl,
On bracelets of thy hair/
MUSA PROTERVA.
The trumpet makes the echo hoarse,
And wakes the louder drum ;
Expense of grief gains no remorse
When sorrow should be dumb :
For I must go where lazy Peace
Will hide her drowsy head,
And, for the sport of kings, increase
The number of the dead.
But first I'll chide thy cruel theft :
Can I in war delight
Who, being of my heart bereft,
Can have no heart to fight ?
Thou know*st the sacred laws of old
Ordained a thief should pay,
To quit him of his theft, sevenfold
What he had stol'n away.
Thy paymcnt shall but double be :
O then with speed resign
My own seduced heart to me
Accompanied with thine.
MUSA PROTERVA.
By Alexander Brome.
The Resolve.
r I ^ELL me not of a face that's fair,
-*■ Nor lip and cheek that's red,
Nor of the tresses of her hair,
Nor curls in order laid,
Nor of a rare seraphic voice
That like an angel sings ;
Though if I were to take my choice
I would have all these things :
But if that thou wilt have me love,
And it must be a she,
The only argument can move
Is that she will love me.
The glories of your ladies be
But metaphors of things,
And but resemble what we see
Each common object brings.
Roses out-red their lips and cheeks,
Lilies their whiteness stain :
What fool is he that shadows seeks
And may the substance gain ?
MUSA PROTERVA.
Then if thou'lt have me love a lass,
Let it be one thafs kind :
Else I'm a servant to the glass
Thafs with Canary lined.
By Alexander Brome.
A Mock-Song.
"TT^IS true I never was in love ;
■*■ But now I mean to be,
For there's no art
Can shield a heart
From love's supremacy.
Though in my nonage I have seen
A world of taking faces,
I had not age nor wit to ken
Their several hidden graces.
Those virtues which, though thinly set,
In others are admired,
In thee are altogether met,
Which make thee so desired ;
c
MUSA PROTERVA.
That, though I never was in love
Nor never meant to be,
Thy self and parts
Above my arts
Have drawn my heart to thee.
By Andrew Marvell.
TO HIS COY MlSTRESS.
T AD we but world enough and time
-*- ■■■ This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find : I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Lpve you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow ;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze ;
MUSA PROTERVA. u
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest ;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart ;
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near ;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be fdund,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song : then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust :
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds cf prey,
12 MUSA PROTERVA.
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt l power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life :
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
By Andrew Marveli-
Making Hay-Ropes.
Amctas.
kHINK'ST a thou that this love can
stand,
Whilst thou still dost say me nay ?
Love unpaid does soon disband :
Love binds love as hay binds hay.
Thestylis. Think'st thou that this rope would twine
If we both should turn one way ?
Where both parties so combine,
Neither love will twist nor hay.
* " Slow-chapt" — with chaps (jaws) that slowly consume.
* Mr. W. J. Linton has some neatly-tumed verses (headed
" No Marvel ") suggested by the present poem. See his
Poems and Translations, p. 7.
T
MUSA PROTERVA. 13
Atnetas. Thus you vain excuses find,
Which yourself and us delay :
And love ties a woman's mind
Looser than with ropes of hay.
Thestylis. What you cannot constant hope
Must be taken as you may.
Ametas. Then let's both lay by our rope
And go kiss within the hay.
By Charles Cotton.
T T 7"AS ever man of Nature's framing
* * So given o'er to roving,
Who have been twenty years a-taming
By ways that are not worth the naming,
And now must die of loving ?
Hell take me if she ben't so winning
That now I love her mainly !
And though in jest at the beginning,
Yet now Fd wondrous fain be sinning,
And so have told her plainly.
14 MUSA PROTERVA.
At which she cries I do not love her,
And tells me of her honour ;
Then have I no way to disprove her,
And my true passion to discover,
But straight to fall upon her.
Which done, forsooth, she talks of wedding,
But what will that avail her ?
For though I am old dog at bedding,
I'm yet a man of so much reading
That there I sure shall fail her.
No, hang me if I ever marry
Till womankind grow stauncher !
I do delight delights to vary,
And love not in one hulk to tarry,
But only trim and launch her.
By Charles Cotton.
To C^LIA.
"\ T 7HEN, Caelia, must my old day set
™ " And my yourig morning rise,
In beams of joy so bright as yet
Ne'er blessed a lover's eyes ?
MUSA PROTERVA. 15
My state is more advanced than when
I first attempted thee ;
I sued to be a servant then,
But now to be made free.
I've served my time faithful and true,
Expecting to be placed
In happy freedom, as my due,
To all the joys thou hast :
111 husbandry in love is such
A scandal to love's power,
We ought not to mis-spend so much
As one poor short-lived hour.
Yet think not, sweet, I'm weary grown
That I pretend such haste,
Since none to surfeit e'er was known
Before he had a taste :
My infant love could humbly wait
When young it scarce knew how
To plead ; but, grown to man's estate,
He is impatient now.
16 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Charles Cotton.
RONDEAU.
r I ^HOU fool ! if madness be so rife
-*• That, spite of wit, thou'lt have a wife,
ril tell thee what thou must expect, —
After the honey-moon neglect
All the sad days of thy whole life !
To that a world of woe and strife,
Which is of marriage the effect ;
And thou thy own woe's architect,
Thou fool !
Thou'lt nothing find but disrespect,
111 words i' th' scolding dialect,
For she'll all tabor be or fife.
Then prithee go and whet thy knife,
And from this fate thyself protect,
Thou fool !
MUSA PROTERVA. 17
By Thomas Flatman.
The Defiance.
T) E not too proud, imperious dame ;
-*-' Your charms are transitory things
May melt, while you at Heaven aim,
Like Icarus' waxen wings ;
And you a part in his misfortune bear,
Drowned in a briny ocean of despair.
You think your beauties are above
The poet's brain and painter's hand,
As if upon the throne of love
You only should the world command :
Yet know, though you presume your title true,
There are pretenders that will rival you.
There's an experienced rebel Time,
And in his squadron 's Poverty ;
There's Age that brings along with him
A terrible artillery :
And if against all those thou keep'st thy crown,
Th' usurper Death will make thee lay it down.
18 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Thomas Flatman.
The Bachelor's Song.
IKE * a dog with a bottle fast tied to his tail,
r — ' Like vermin in a trap or a thief in a ja.il,
Like a Tory in a bog
Or an ape with a clog :
Such is the man who, when he might go free,
Does his liberty lose
For a matrimony noose,
And sells himself into captivity.
The dog he does howl when the bottle does jog
The vermin, the thief, and the Tory in vain
Of the trap, of the jail, of the quagmire complain.
But well fare poor Pug ! for he plays with his clog
And, though he would be rid on 't rather than his
life,
Yet he lugs it and he hugs it as a man does his
wife.
1 Some waggish friends of Flatman sang this song beneath
his window on his marriage-night Anthony a Wood tells
the story. In the Westminster Drollery we find some
answers to " The Bachelor's Song," which was very
popular.
MUSA PROTERVA. 19
The Second Part.
How happy a thing were a wedding,
And a bedding,
If a man might purchase a wife
For a twfclve-month and a day !
But to live with her all a man's life
For ever and for aye
Till she grow as grey as a cat,
Good faith, Mr. Parson, I thank you for that.
By Katherine Philips (the
matchless Orinda).
An Answer to Another persuading a Lady
to Marriage.
FORBEAR, bold youth ; all's heaven here,
And what you do aver
To others courtship may appear ;
'Tis sacrilege to her.
She is a public deity ;
And were 't not very odd
She should dispose herself to be
A petty household god.
20 MUSA PROTERVA.
First make the sun in private shine
And bid the world adieu,
That so he may his beams confine
In compliment to you :
But if of that you do despair,
Think how you did amiss
To strive to fix her beams which are
More bright and large than his.1
From John Dryden's Tyran-
nic Love, 1670.
AH how sweet it is to love !
Ah how gay is young desire !
And what pleasing pains we prove
When we first approach love's fire !
Pains of love be sweeter far
Than all other pleasures are.
Sighs which are from lovers blown
Do but gently heave the heart :
Ev'n the tears they shed alone,
Cure, like trickling balm, their smart :
Lovers, when they lose their breath,
Bleed away in easy death.
1 Olded. "this."
MUSA PROTERVA.
Love and time with reverence use,
Treat 'em like a parting friend ;
Nor the golden gifts refuse
Which in youth sincere they send ;
For each year their price is more,
And they less simple than before.
Love, like spring-tides full and high,
Swells in every youthful vein ;
But each tide does less supply
Till they quite shrink in again :
If a flow in Age appear,
'Tis but rain, and runs not clear.
From John Dryden's An
Evening^s Love, 1671.
CALM was the even and clear was the sky,
And the new-budding flowers did spring,
When all alone went Amyntas and I
To hear the sweet nightingale sing.
I sat, and he laid him down by me,
But scarcely his breath he could draw,
For when with a fear he began to draw near
He was dashed with A ha, ha, ha, ha !
22 MUSA PROTERVA.
He blush'd to bimself, and lay still for a while,
And his modesty curbed his desire ;
But straight I convinced all his fears with a smile,
Which added new flames to his fire.
0 Sylvia, said he, you are cruel
To keep your poor lover in awe ;
Then once more he prest with his hand to my breast,
But was dashed with A ha, ha, ha, ha !
1 knew 'twas his passion that caused all his fear,
And therefore I pitied his case :
I whispered him softly " There's nobody near,"
And laid my cheek close to his face :
But as he grew bolder and bolder,
A shepherd came by us and saw,
And, just as our bliss we began with a kiss,
He laughed out with A ha, ha, ha, ha !
Damon.
CELIMENA, of my heart
None shall e'er bereave you ;
If with your good leave I may
Quarrel with you once a day,
I will never leave you.
MUSA PROTERVA. 23
Celim. Passion's but an empty name
Where respect is wanting :
Damon, you mistake your aim :
Hang your heart and burn your flame,
If you must be ranting.
Damon. Love as dull and muddy is
As decaying liquor :
Anger sets it on the lees,
And refines it by degrees
Till it works the quicker.
Celim. Love by quarrels to beget
Wisely you endeavour,
With a grave physician's wit,
Who to cure an ague fit
Put me in a fever.
Damon. Anger rouses love to fight
And his only bait is ;
Tis the spur to dull delight,
And is but an eager bite
When desire at height is.
Celim. If such drops of heat can fall
In our wooing weather ;
24 MUSA PROTERVA.
If sucli drops of heat can fall,
We shall have the devil and all
When we corae together.
A FTER the pangs of a desperate lover,
■*■*• When day and night I have sighed all in vain,
Ah what a pleasure it is to discover
In her eyes pity who causes my pain !
When with unkindness our love at a stand is,
And both have punished ourselves with the pain,
Ah what a pleasure the touch of her hand is,
Ah what a pleasure to press it again !
When the denial comes fainter and fainter,
And her eyes give what her tongue does deny,
Ah what a trembling I feel when I venture,
Ah what a trembling does usher my joy !
When with a sigh she accords me the blessing,
And her eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain,
Ah what a joy 'tis, beyond all expressing,
Ah what a joy to hear>" Shall we again ? "
MUSA PROTERVA. 25
From John Dryden's T/te
First Part of the Conquest
of Granada, 1672.
T) ENEATH a myrtle shade,
*-r Which Love for none but happy lovers made,
I slept ; and straight my love before me brought
Phillis, the object of my waking thought :
Undressed she came my flames to meet,
While Love strowed flowers beneath her feet,
Flowers which, so pressed by her, became more
sweet.
From the bright vision's head
A careless veil of lawn was loosely spread :
From her white temples fell her shaded hair,
Like cloudy sunshine, not too brown nor fair ;
Her hands, her lips did love inspire,
Her every grace my heart did fire :
But most her eyes, which languished with desire.
Ah, charming fair, said I,
How long can you my bliss and yours deny ?
By Nature and by Love this lonely shade
Was for revenge of suflfring lovers made :
26 MUSA PROTERVA.
Silence and shades with love agree,
Both shelter you and favour me ;
You cannot blush because I cannot see.
No, let me die, she said,
Rather than lose the spotless name of maid :
Faintly, methought, she spoke, for all the while
She bid me not believe her with a smile.
Then die, said I. She still denied,
And is it thus, thus, thus, she cried,
You use a harmless maid ? and so she died.
I waked, and straight I knew
I loved so well it made my dream prove true :
Fancy, the kinder mistress of the two,
Fancy had done what Phillis would not do.
Ah cruel nymph, cease your disdain,
While I can dream you scorn in vain :
Asleep or waking you must ease my pain.
From JOHN Dryden's Mar-
riage-a-la-Modet 1673.
\XT HILST Alexis lay prest
" " In her arms he loved best,
With his hand round her neck
And his head on her breast,
MUSA PROTERVA. 27
He found the fierce pleasure too hasty to stay,
And his soul in the tempest just flying away.
When Cselia saw this,
With a sigh and a kiss
She cried " Oh my dear, I am robbed of my bliss ;
Tis unkind to your love, and unfaithfully done,
To leave me behind you and die all alone."
The youth, tho' in haste
And breathing his last,
In pity died slowly while she died more fast,
Till at length she cried " Now, my dear, now let us
go!
Now die, my Alexis, and I will die too."
Thus entranced they did lie,
Till Alexis did try
To recover new breath that again he might die :
Then often they died ; but the more they did so,
The nymph died more quick and the shepherd
more slow.
28 MUSA PROTERVA.
From John Dryden's Aw-
boyna, 1673.
" I ""HE day is come, I see it rise
*• Betwixt the bride's and bridegroom's eyes,
That golden day they wished so long,
Love picked it out amidst the throng ;
He destined to himself this sun,
And took the reins and drove him on ;
In his own beams he dressed him bright,
Yet bid him bring a better night.
The day you wished arrived at last,
You wish as much that it were past ;
One minute more and night will hide
The bridegroom and the blushing bride.
The virgin now to bed does go ;
Take care, O youth, she rise not so ;
She pants and trembles at her doom,
And fears and wishes thou wouldst come.
The bridegroom comes, he comes apace
With love and fury in his face ;
She shrinks away, he close pursues,
And prayers and threats at once does use.
MUSA PROTERVA. 29
She, softly sighing, begs delay,
And with her hand puts his away :
Now out aloud for help she cries,
And now despairing shuts her eyes.
From John Dryden's The
Spanish Friar, 1681.
T7AREWELL, ungrateful traitor,
■*■ Farewell, my perjured swain !
Let never injured creature
Believe a man again.
The pleasure of possessing
Surpasses all expressing ;
But 'tis too short a blessing,
And love too long a pain.
Tis easy to deceive us
In pity of your pain ;
But when we love you leave us
To rail at you in vain.
Before we have descried it
There is no bliss beside it;
But she that once has tried it
Will never love again.
30 MUSA PROTERVA.
The passion you pretended
Was only to obtain ;
But when the charm is ended
The charmer you disdain.
Your love by ours we measure
Till we have lost our treasure ;
But dying is a pleasure
When living is a pain.
By Charles Sackville, Earl
OF DORSET.
Song; written at sea in the first Dutch
War, 1665, the night before an engage-
ment.
TO all you ladies now at land
We men at sea indite ;
But first would have ye understand
How hard it is to write :
The Muses now and Neptune, too,
We must implore to write to you.
MUSA PROTERVA. 3'
For tho' the Muses should prove kind
And fill our empty brain,
Yet, if rough Neptune call the wind
To rouse the azure main,
Our paper, pen, and ink, and we
Roll up and down our ships at sea.
Then, if we write not by each post,
Think not we are unkind,
Nor yet conclude our ships are lost
By Dutchmen or by wind :
Our tears we'll send a speedier way,
The tide shall bring them twice a day.
The King, with wonder and surprise,
Will swear the seas grow bold,
Because the tides will higher rise
Than e'er they used of old :
But let him know it is our tears
Bring floods of grief to Whitehall stairs.
Should foggy Opdam chance to know
Our sad and dismal story,
The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe
And say theyVe gained no glory ;
For what resistance can they find
From men whoVe left their hearts behind.
32 MUSA PROTERVA.
Let wind and weather do its worst,
Be you to us but kind ;
Let Dutchmen vapour, Spaniards curse,
No sorrow we shall find :
'Tis then no matter how things go,
Or who's our friend, or who's our foe.
To pass our tedious hours away
We throw a merry main,
Or else at serious ombre play ;
But why should we in vain
Each other's ruin thus pursue?
We were undone when we left you.
But now our fears tempestuous grow
And cast our hopes away,
Whilst you, regardless of our woe,
Sit careless at a play ;
Perhaps permit some happier man
To kiss your hana or flirt your fan.
Whcn any mournful tune you hear
That dies in every note,
As if it sighed with each man's care
For being so remote ;
Think then how often love we've made
To you, when all those tunes were played.
MUSA PROTERVA. 33
In justice you cannot refuse
To think of our distress,
When we for hopes of honour lose
Our certain happiness ;
All those designs are but to prove
Ourselves more worthy of your love.
And now we've told you all our loves,
And likewise all our fears,
In hopes this declaration moves
Some pity for our tears ;
Lefs hear of no inconstancy,
We have too much of that at sea.
By the Earl of Dorset.
1\ /T AY the ambitious ever find
*»* Success in crowds and noise,
While gentler love does fill my mind
With silent real joys !
May knaves and fools grow rich and great,
And the world think them wise,
While I lie dying at her feet
And all the world despise.
^4 MUSA rROTERVA.
Let conquering kings nevv triumphs raise
And melt in court delights ;
Her eyes can give much brighter days,
Her arms much softer nights.
By the Earl of Dorset.
T)HILLIS, the fairest of Love's foes,
•*- Though fiercer than a dragon,
Phillis, that scorned the powdered beaux,
What has she now to brag on?
So long she kept her legs so close
Till she had scarce a rag on.
Compelled through want, this wretched maid
Did sad complaints begin ;
Which surly Strephon hearing said
It was both shame and sin
To pity such a lazy jade
As will neither play nor spin.
MUSA PROTERVA. 35
By the Earl OF Dorset.
IV /T ETHINKS the poor town has been troubled
-*■»-*- too long,
With Phillis and Chloris in every song,
By fools who at once can both love and despair
And will never leave calling them cruel and fair ;
Which justly provokes me in rhyme to express
The truth that I know of bonny Black Bess.1
This Bess of my heart, this Bess of my soul,
Has a skin white as milk and hair black as a coal ;
She's plump, yet with ease you may span round
her waist,
But her round swelling thighs can scarce be
embraced :
Her belly is soft, not a word of the rest,
But I know what I think when I drink to the best.
The plowman and squire, the arranter clown,
At home she subdued in her paragon gown ;
But now she adorns both the boxes and pit,
And the proudest town-gallants are forced to
submit ;
' Horace Walpole, in his copy of The Sports of the Muses,
1752, preserved in the Dyce Library, notes that "Black
Bess " was Mrs. Barnes.
36 MUSA PROTERVA.
All hearts fall a-leaping wherever she comes,
And beat day and night like my Lord Craven's l
drums.
I dare not permit her to come to Whitehall,
For she'd outshine the ladies, paint, jewels, and all ;
If a lord should but whisper his love in the crowd,
She'd sell him a bargain and laugh out aloud :
Then the Queen, overhearing what Betty did say,
Would send Mr. Roper 3 to take her away.
But to those that haVe had my dear Bess in their
arms,
She's gentle, and knows how to soften her charms ;
And to every beauty cajn add a new grace,
Having learned how to lisp and to trip in her pace ;
And with head on one side, and a languishing eye,
To kill us by looking as if she would die.
1 Pepys, in March, 1668, describes Lord Craven as
II riding up and down to give orders like a madman " to the
troops gathered in Lincoln's Inn Fields for the suppression
of a city tumult. Whenever a fire broke out Lord Craven
was very active ; his horse could scent fire at a distance.
* Christopher Roper, appointed page of honour to the
Queen in 1667.
MUSA PROTERVA. 37
By the Earl of Dorset.
A T noon, in a sunshiny day,
•**- The brightest lady of the May,
Young Chloris, innocent and gay
Sat knotting in a shade.
Each slender finger played its part
With such activity and art
As would inflame a youthful heart,
And warm the most decayed.
Her fav'rite swain by chance came by,
He saw no anger in her eye ;
Yet when the bashful boy drew nigh,
She would have seemed afraid.
She let her ivory needle fall,
And hurled away the twisted ball ;
But straight gave Strephon such a call
As would have raised the dead.
" Dear gentle youth, is't none but thee ?
With innocence I dare be free ;
By so much truth and modesty
No nymph was e'er betrayed.
38 MUSA PROTERVA.
" Come lean thy head upon my lap ;
While thy smooth cheeks I stroke and clap,
Thou mayst securely take a nap " :
Which he, poor fool, obeyed.
She saw him yawn and heard him snore,
And found him fast asleep all o'er ;
She sighed and could endure no more,
But, starting up, she said :
** Such virtue shall rewarded be ;
For this thy dull fidelity,
111 trust thee with my flocks, not me :
Pursue thy grazing trade.
" Go, milk thy goats and shear thy sheep,
And watch all night thy flocks to keep ;
Thou shalt no more be lulled asleep
By me, mistaken maid."
MUSA PROTERVA. 39
By the Earl of Dorset.
On a Lady1 who fancied herself a Beauty.
y^ORINDAS sparkling wit and eyes,
-*-^ United, cast too fierce a light,
Which blazes high but quickly dies,
Pains not the heart but hurts the sight.
Love is a calmer, gentler joy,
Smooth are his looks and soft his pace ;
Her Cupid is a black-guard boy
That runs his link full in your face.
By the Earl of Dorset.
To Chloris from the Blind Archer.
A H, Chloris, 'tis time to disarm your bright eyes
■*• *■ And lay by those terrible glances ;
We live in an age that's more civil and wise
Than to follow the rules of romances.
When once your round bubbies begin but to pout,
They'll allow you no long time of courting ;
And you'll find it a very hard task to hold out,
For all maidens are mortal at fourteen.
1 Catharine Sedley, Countess of Dorchester, mistress of
James II.
4Q MUSA PROTERVA.
By the Earl of Dorset. (A
song contributed to SOUTH-
erne's Sir Antony Love,
1691.)
T N vain, Clemene, you bestow
■*• The promised empire of your heart
If you refuse to let me know
The wealthy charms of every part.
My passion with your kindness grew,
Tho' beauty gave the first desire :
But beauty only to pursue
Is following a wand'ring fire.
As hills in perspective suppress
The free enquiry of the sight ;
Restraint makes every pleasure less
And takes from love the full delight.
Faint kisses may in part supply
Those eager longings of my soul ;
But oh ! I'm lost if you deny
A quick possession of the whole.
MUSA PROTERVA. 41
By John Wilmot, Earl of
ROCHESTER.
1\ /T Y dear mistress has a heart
*»* Soft as those kind looks shegave me,
When, with love's resistless art
And her eyes, she did enslave me :
But her constancy's so weak,
She's so wild and apt to wander,
That my jealous heart would break
Should we live one day asunder.
Melting joys about her move,
Killing pleasures, wounding blisses ;
She can dress her eyes in love,
And her lips can warm with kisses.
Angels listen when she speaks ;
She's my delight, all mankind's wonder,
But my jealous heart would break,
Should we live one day asunder.
\2 MUSA PROTERVA.
By the Earl of Rochester.
/~* IVE me leave to rail at you,
^~* I ask nothing but my due ;
To call you false and then to say
You shall not keep my heart a day ;
But, alas ! against my will,
I must be your captive still.
Ah, be kinder then, for I
Cannot change and would not die.
Kindness has resistless charms,
All besides but weakly move ;
Fiercest anger it disarms,
And clips the wings of flying love.
Beauty does the heart invade,
Kindness only can persuade ;
It gilds the lover^s servile chain,
And makes the slaves grow pleased again.
MUSA PROTERVA. 43
By the Earl of Rochester.
A LL my past life is mine no more,
•**■ The flying hours are gone,
Like transitory dreams given o'er,
Whose images are kept in store
By memory alone.
The time that is to come is not :
How can it then be mine ?
The present momenfs all my lot,
And that, as fast as it is got,
Phillis, is only thine.
Then talk not of inconstancy,
False hearts and broken vows ;
If I, by nliracle, can be
This live-long minute true to thee,
'Tis all that heaven allows.
44 MUSA rROTERVA.
By the Earl of Rochester.
A S Chloris, full of harmless thought,
■**- Beneath the willows lay,
Kind Love a comely shepherd brought
To pass the time away :
She blushed to be encountered so,
And chid the amorous swain ;
But as she strove to rise and go,
He pulled her back again.
A sudden passion seized her heart
In spite of her disdain ;
She found a pulse in every part,
And Love in every vein.
" Ah> youth," quoth she, " what charms are these,
That conquer and surprise ?
Ah let me — for, unless you please,
I have no power to rise."
She faintly spoke and trembling lay,
For fear he should comply ;
Her lovely eyes her heart betray,
And give her tongue the lie.
MUSA PROTERVA. 45
Thus she, who princes had denied
With all their pomp and train,
Was in the lucky minute tried
And yielded to the swain.1
From Sir George Etherege's
The Comical Revenge ; or
Larve in a Tub, 1664.
IF she be not as kind as fair,
But peevish and unhandy,
Leave her, she's only worth the care
Of some spruce jack-a-dandy.
I would not have thee such an ass,
Hadst thou ne'er so much leisure,
To sigh and whine for such a lass
Whose pride's above her pleasure.
T ADIES, though to your conquering eyes
* — ' Love owes his chiefest victories,
1 This song was lengthened into a broadside ballad, seven
additional stanzas being tacked on. See Roxburghe Ballads,
ed. J. W. Ebsworth, part xvi., pp. 133-35.
46 MUSA PROTERVA.
And borrows those bright arms from you
With which he does the world subdue,
Yet you yourself are not above
The empire nor the griefs of love.
Then rack not lovers with disdain,
Lest Love on you revenge their pain ;
You are not free because you're fair ;
The Boy did not his Mother spare :
Beauty's but an offensive dart,
It is no armour for the heart.
By SlR George Etherege.
TO A VERY YOUNG LADY.
Q WEETEST bud of beauty, may
w-' No untimely frost decay
Th' early glories which we trace
Blooming in thy matchless face.
But kindly opening like the rose
Fresh beauties every day disclose,
Such as by nature are not shown
In all the blossoms she has blown.
MUSA PROTERVA. 47
And then what conquests shall you make
Who hearts already daily take !
Scorched in the morning with thy beams,
How shall we bear those sad extremes
Which shall attend thy threatening eyes
When thou shalt to thy noon arise ! l
By Sir George Etherege.
To A Lady, asking him how long he would
LOVE HER.
T T is not, Celia, in our power
*■ To say how long our love will last ;
It may be we within this hour
May lose those joys we now do taste ;
The blessed, that immortal be,
From change in love are only free.
' Cf. Waller's verses To my young Lady Lucy Sidney : —
" Yet, fairest blossom, do not slight
That age which you may know so soon :
The rosy mom resigns her light
And milder glory to the noon :
And then what wonders shall you do,
Whose dawning beauty warms us so ! "
48 MUSA PROTERVA.
Then, since we mortal lovers are,
Ask not how long our love will last ;
But while it does, let us take care
Each minute be with pleasure pass'd :
Were it not madness to deny
To live because we're sure to die ?
By Sir George Etherege.
(A song conlributed to
Nahum Tate's A Duke
and no Duke, 1685.)
/~T~*ELL me no more I am deceived :
•*- While Silvia seems so kind,
And takes such care to be believed,
The cheat I fear to find.
To flatter me should falsehood lie
Concealed in her soft youth,
A thousand times I'd rather die
Than see the unhappy truth.
My love all malice shall outbrave,
Let fops in libels rail ;
If she the appearances will save,
No scandal shall prevail.
MUSA PROTERVA. 49
She makes me think I have her hcart :
How much for that is due ?
Tho' she but act the tender part
The joy she gives is true.
By Sir Car Scroope. '
AS Amoret with Phillis sat
One evening on the plain,
And saw the charming Strephon wait
To tell the nymph his pain j
The threat'ning danger to remove,
She whispered in her ear,
" Ah ! Phillis, if you would not love,
This shepherd do not hear ;
None ever had so strange an art
His passion to convey
Into a list'ning virgin's heart
And steal her soul away :
1 Sir Car Scroope contributed this song to Etherege's The
Man of Mode, or Sir Fopling Flutter, 1676, for which play
he also wrote a prologue. Prefixed to the verses is a note —
" Song by Sir C. S." (In the 1722 edition of Sir Charles
Sedley'* Works the song is found, but not in ed. 1702.)
H
5o MUSA PROTERVA.
Fly, fly betimes for fear you give
Occasion for your Fate ! "
" In vain," said she, " in vain I strive,
Alas ! 'tis now too late."
From Mrs. Behn's Abdelazar,
or the Moor^s Revenge, 1 67 1 .
T OVE in fantastic triumph sate
" — * Whilst bleeding hearts around him flowed,
For whom fresh pains he did create
And strange tyrannic power he showed.
From thy bright eyes he took his fires,
Which round about in sport he hurled ;
But 'twas from mine he took desires,
Enough t' undo the amorous world.
From me he took his sighs and tears,
From thee his pride and cruelty ;
From me his languishments and fears,
And every killing dart from thee.
Thus thou and I the God have armed,
And set him up a deity \
But my poor heart alone is harmed,
Whilst thine the victor is and free.
MUSA PROTERVA. 51
From Mrs. Behn's The Lucky
Chance, 1687.
/^~\ LOVE, that stronger art than wine,
^^ Pleasing delusion, witchery divine,
Want to be prized above all wealth,
Disease that has more joys than health,
Tho' we blaspheme thee in our pain
And of thy tyranny complain,
We all are bettered by thy reign.
What Reason never can bestow
We to this useful Passion owe :
Love wakes the dull from sluggish ease,
And learns a clown the art to please,
Humbles the vain, kindles the cold,
Makes misers free and cowards bold 3
Tis he reforms the sot from drink,
And teaches airy fops to think.
When full brute appetite is fed,
And choked the glutton lies and dead,
Thou new spirits dost dispense
And 'finest the gross delights of sense :
Virtue's unconquerable aid
That against Nature can persuade,
52 MUSA PROTERVA.
And mak'st a roving mind retire
Within the bounds of just desire;
Cheerer of age, Youth's kind unrest,
And half the heaven of the blest !
By Mrs. Behn.
A THOUSAND martyrs I have made
■*■*• All sacrificed to my desire,
A thousand beauties have betrayed
That languish in resistless fire :
The untaroed heart to hand I brought
And fixed the wild and wand'ring thought.
I never vowed nor sighed in vain,
But both, tho' false, were well received ;
The fair are pleased to give us pain,
And what they wish is soon believed :
And, tho' 1 talked of wounds and smart,
Love's pleasures only touched my heart.
Alone the glory and the spoil
I always laughing bore away,
The triumphs without pain or toil,
Without the hell the heaven of joy :
And while I thus at random rove
Despise the fools that whine for love.
MUSA PROTERVA. 53
By Mrs. Behn.
OWHAT pleasure 'tis to find
A coy heart melt by slow degrees !
When to yielding 'tis inclined,
Yet her fear a ruin sees ;
When her tears do kindly flow
And her sighs do come and go !
O how charming 'tis to meet
Soft resistance from the fair,
When her pride and wishes meet
And by turns increase her care ;
O how charming 'tis to know
She would yield but can't tell how !
O how pretty is her scorn
When, confused 'twixt love and shame,
Still refusing, tho' she burn,
The soft pressures of my flame !
Her pride in her denial lies
And mine is in my victories.
54 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Mrs. Behn.
The Invention.1
A H he who first found out the way
"**■ Souls to each other to convey
Without dull speaking, sure must be
Something above humanity.
Let the fond world in vain dispute,
And the first mystery impute
Of letters to the learned brood,
And of the glory cheat a god :
'Twas love alone that first the art assayed,
And Psyche was the first fair yielding maid
That was by the dear billet doux betrayed.
Charles d'Orleans wrote a charming balade in praise of
the inventor of letter-writing : —
" Loue soit celui qui trouva
Premier la maniere cTescrire !
En ce, grand confort ordonna
Pour amants qui sont en martire ;
Car quand ne peuvent aller dire
A leurs dames leur grief tourment,
Ce leur est moult cTalegement,
Quand par escript peuvent maner
Les maulx qu'ils portent humblement,
Pour bien et loyaument amer." &c.
MUSA PROTERVA. 55
By Mrs. Behn.
The Example.
r"\ AMON, if you'd have me true,
-*— ' Be you my precedent and guide :
Example sooner we pursue
Than the dull dictates of our pride :
Precepts of virtue are too weak an aim,
Tis demonstration that can best reclaim.
Shew me the path you'd have me go ;
With such a guide I cannot stray :
What you approve, whate'er you do,
It is but just I bend the way :
If true, my honour favours your design ;
If false, revenge is the result of mine.
A lover true, a maid sincere,
Are to be prized as things divine :
'Tis justice makes the blessing dear,
Justice of love without design :
And she that reigns not in a heart alone
Is never safe or easy on her throne.
56 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Mrs. Behn.
OH, how the hand the lover ought to prize
'Bove any one peculiar grace !
While he is dying for the eyes
And doting on the lovely face,
The unconsid'ring little knows
How rnuch he to this beauty owes.
That, when the lover absent is,
Informs him of his mistress' heart ;
Tis that which gives him all his bliss
When dear love-secrets 'twill impart :
That plights the faith the maid bestows,
And that confirms the tim'rous vows.
Tis that betrays the tendemess
Which the too bashful tongue denies ;
'Tis that which does the heart confess,
And spares the language of the eyes ;
Tis that which treasure gives so vast,
Ev'n Iris 'twill to Damon give at last.
MUSA PROTERVA. 57
By Tom Durfey.
The Winchester Wedding; or Ralph of
Reading and Black Bess of the Green.
A T Winchester was a wedding,
-**■ The like was never seen,
'Twixt lusty Ralph of Reading
And bonny Black Bess of the Green :
The fiddlers were crowding l before,
Each lass was as fine as a queen ;
There was a hundred and more,
For all the country came in :
Brisk Robin led Rose so fair,
She looked like a lily o' th' vale,
And ruddy-faced Harry led Mary,
And Roger led bouncing Nell.
With Tommy came smiling Katy,
He helped her over the stile,
And swore there was none so pretty
In forty and forty long mile :
1 Fiddling.
I
58 MUSA PROTERVA.
Kit gave a green gown to Betty,
And lent her his hand to rise ;
But Jenny was jeered by Watty
For looking blue under the eyes :
Thus merrily chatting all,
They passed to the bride-house along,
With Johnny and pretty-faced Nanny,
The fairest of all the throng.
The bride came out to meet 'em,
Afraid the dinner was spoiled ;
And ushered 'em in to treat 'em
With baked and roasted and boiled :
The lads were so frolic and jolly,
For each had his love by his side,
But Willy was melancholy,
For he had a mind to the bride :
Then Philip begins her health
And turns a beer-glass on his thumb ;
But Jenkin was reckoned for drinking
The best in Christendom.
And, now they had dined, advancing
Into the midst of the Hall,
The fiddlers struck up for dancing
And Jeremy led up the brawl ;
MUSA PROTERVA. 59
But Margery kept a quarter,
A lass that was proud of her pelf,
'Cause Arthur had stolen her garter
And swore he would tie it himself :
She struggled, and blushed, and frowned,
And ready with anger to cry,
'Cause Arthur, with tying her garter,
Had slipped his hand too high.
And now, for throwing the stocking,
The bride away was led ;
The bridegroom got drunk and was knocking
For candles to light 'em to bed :
But Robin, that found him silly,
Most friendly took him aside,
The while that his wife with WTlly
Was playing at hooperVhide :
And now the warm game begins,
The critical minute was come,
And chatting and billing and kissing
Went merrily round the room.
Pert Stephen was kind to Betty,
And blithe as a bird in the spring ;
And Tommy was so to Katy,
And married her with a rush-ring :
6o MUSA PROTERVA.
Sukey, that danced with the cushion,1
An hour from the room had been gone,
And Barnaby knevv by her blushing
That some other dance had been done :
And thus, of fifty fair maids
That came to the wedding with men,
Scarce five of the fifty was left ye
That so did return again.
By Tom Durfey.2
r I AHE night her blackest sable wore,
-*- All gloomy were the skies,
And glittering stars there were no more
Than those in Stella's eyes ;
When at her father's gate I knocked,
Where I had often been,
And, shrouded only in her smock,
The fair one let me in.
1 "Cushion-dance" was the name of a dance (a "pretty
provocatory dance ") used at weddings.
* For Durfey's claim to this once popular song see Mr.
Ebsworth's Roxburghe Ballads, vol. vi. p. 193, &c.
MUSA PROTERVA. 61
Fast locked within my close embrace,
She blushing lay ashamed ;
Her swelling breasts, and glowing face,
And every touch inflamed :
My eager passion I obeyed,
Resolved the fort to win,
And her fond heart was soon betrayed
To yield and let me in.
Then, then, beyond expressing,
Immortal was the joy ;
I knew no greater blessing,
So happy then was I :
And she, transported with delight,
Oft prayed me come again,
And kindly vowed that every night
She'd rise and let me in.
But ah, at last she proved with bearn,
And sighing sat, and dull ;
And I, who had as much concern,
Looked then just like a fool :
Her lovely eyes with tears run o'er,
Repenting her rash sin,
She sighed and cursed that fatal hour
That e'er she let me in.
62 MUSA PROTERVA.
But who could cruelly deceive,
Or from such beauty part ?
I loved her so, I could not leave
The charmer of my heart ;
But wedded and concealed the crime,
Thus all was well again :
And now she thanks the blessed time
That e'er she let me in.
By Tom Durfky.
/"""* HLOE'S a nymph in flowery groves,
^-^ A Nereid in the streams ;
Saint-like she in the temple moves,
A woman in my dreams.
Love steals artillery from her eyes,
The graces point her charms ;
Orpheus is rivalled in her voice,
And Venus in her arms.
Never so happily in one
Did heaven and earth combine ;
And yet 'tis flesh and blood alone
That makes her so divine.
MUSA PROTERVA. 63
She looks indeed like other dames,
With atlas ' covered o'er ;
But when undressed she meets my flames,
A mortal she's no more.
By Tom Durfey.
"XTXDUNG Philander wooed me long,
-*- I was peevish and forbad him,
Nor would hear his loving song,
And yet now I wish I had him ;
For each morn I view my glass,
I perceive the whim is going ;
For when wrinkles streak the face
We may bid farewell to wooing
Use your time, ye virgins fair,
Choose before your days are evil ;
Fifteen is a season rare,
Five and forty is the devil :
Just when ripe consent to do 't,
Hug no more the lonely pillow ;
Women, like some other fruit,
Lose their relish when too mellow.
" A silk-satin manufactured in the East." — Murray.
64 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Tom DURFEY.
IFOLLOWED fame and got renown,
I ranged all o'er the park and town ;
I haunted plays and there grew wise,
Observing my own modish vice ;
Friends and wine I next did try,
Yet I found no solid joy ;
Greatest pleasures seem too small,
Till Sylvia made amends for all.
But see the state of human bliss,
How vain our best contentment is ;
As of my joy she was the chief,
So was she too my greatest grief.
Fate, that I might be undone,
Dooms this angel but for one ;
And, alas, too plain I see
That I am not the happy he.
MUSA PROTERVA. 65
By Tom Durfey.
Q OME thirty or forty or fifty at least,
^ Or more, I have loved in vain, in vain,
But if you'll vouchsafe to receive a poor guest,
For once I will venture again, agam.
How long I shall be in this mind, this mind,
Is totally in your own power ;
All my days I can pass with the kind, the kind,
But IUl part with the proud in an hour.
Then if you'U be good-natured and civil, and civil,
You'll find I can be so too, so too ;
But if not you may go, you may go to the devil,
Or the devil may come to you, to you.
By Tom Durfey.
KlNGSTON CHURCH, A SONG.1
Q WEET, use your time ; abuse your time
*** No longer, but be wise :
Young lovers now discover you
Have beauty to be prized ;
1 This song was lengthened into a broadside ballad by the
addition of seven stanzas. See Mr. Ebsworth's Roxburght
Ballads, vol. vi. pp. 139-142.
K
66 MUSA PROTERVA.
But if you're coy you'll lose the joy,
So curst will be the fate ;
The flower will fade, you'll die a maid,
And mourn your chance too late.
At thirteen years and fourteen years
The virgin's heart may range ;
'Twixt fifteen years and fifty years
You'll find a wondrous change :
Then whilst in tune, in May and June,
Let love and youth agree,
For if you stay till Christmas day
The devil shall woo for me.
From SiR Charles Sedley's
The Mulberry Garden.
1668.
A H, Chloris, that I now could sit
"**■ As unconcerned as when
Your infant beauty could beget
No pleasure nor no pain !
When I the dawn used to admire
And praised the coming day,
I little thought the growing fire
Must take my rest away.
MUSA PROTERVA. 67
Your charms in harmless childhood lay
Like metals in the mine ;
Age from no face took more away
Than youth concealed in thine :
But as your charms insensibly
To their perfection prest,
Fond Love as unperceived did fly
And in my bosom rest.
My passion with your beauty grew,
And Cupid at my heart —
Still as his mother favoured you —
Threw a new flaming dart.
Each gloried in their wanton part :
To make a lover, he
Employed the utmost of his art ;
To make a beauty, she.
Though now I slowly bend to love,
Uncertain of my fate,
If your fair self my chains approve
I shall my freedom hate.
Lovers, like dying men, may well
At first disordered be,
Since none alive can truly tell
What fortune they must see.
68 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
T)HILLIS, men say that alkmy vows
-■- Are to thy fortune paid ;
Alas, my heart he little knows
Who thinks my love a trade :
Were I of all these woods the lord,
One berry from thy hand
More solid pleasure would afford
Than all my large command.
My humble love hath learnt to live
On what the nicest maid
Without a conscious blush can give
Beneath the myrtle-shade.1
Of costly food it hath no need,
And nothing will devour,
But like the harmless bee can feed
And not impair the flower.
A spotless innocence like thine
May such a flame allow,
Yet thy fair name for ever shine
As doth thy beauty now.
1 Here the song ends in ed. 1702. The additional verses
are found in ed. 1722.
MUSA PROTERVA. 69
I heard thee wish my lambs might stray
Safe from the fox's power :
Tho' every one becomes his prey,
I'm richer than before.
By Sir Charlks Skdley.
AURELIA,1 art thou mad
To let the world in me
Envy joys I never had
And censure them in thee ?
Filled with grief for what is past,
Let us at length be wise,
And the banquet boldly taste
Since we have paid the price.
Love does easy souls despise
Who lose themselves for toys,
And escape for those devise
Who taste his utmost joys.
To be thus for trifles blamed
Like their's a folly is
Who are for vain swearing damned
And knew no higher bliss.
1 The text of ed. 1722 is followed. £d. 1702 gives a some-
what different version.
70 MUSA PROTERVA.
Love should like the year be crowned
With sweet variety ;
Hope should in the spring be found,
Kind fears, and jealousy :
In the summer flowers should rise,
And in the autumn fruit :
His spring doth else but mock our eyes
And in a scoff salute.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
y^ELINDA, think not by disdain
^~/ To vanquish my desire,
By telling me I sigh in vain
And feed a hopeless fire :
Despair itself too weak does prove
Your beauty to disarm ;
By Fate I was ordained to love
As you were born to charm.
MUSA PROTERVA. 71
By Sir Charles Sedley.
T)HILLIS, lefs shun the common fate,
■*- And let our love ne'er turn to hate ;
I'll dote no longer than I can,
Without being called a faithless man.
When we begin to want discourse,
And kindness seems to taste of force,
As freely as we met we'll part,
Each one possessed of their own heart.
Thus, whilst rash fools themselves undo,
We'll game and give off savers too ;
So equally the match we'll make
Both shall be glad to draw the stake.
A smile of thine shall make my bliss,
I will enjoy thee in a kiss :
If from this height our kindness fail.
We'll bravely scorn to love at all :
If thy affection first decay^
I will the blame on Nature lay.
Alas, what cordial can remove
The hasty fate of dying Love ?
Thus we will all the world excel
In loving and in parting well.
72 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
To Chloris.
/"""^HLORIS, I cannot say your eyes
^^ Did my unwary heart surprise ;
Nor will I swear it was your face,
Your shape, or any nameles"s grace ;
For, you are so entirely fair,
To love a part injustice werc :
No drowning man can know which drop
Of water his last breath did stop :
So when the stars in heaven appear,
And join to make the night look clear,
The light we no one's bounty call,
But the obliging gift of all.
He that does lips or hands adore,
Deserves them only and no more ;
But I love all and every part,
And nothing less can ease my heart :
Cupid that lover weakly strikes
Who can express what 'tis he likes.
MUSA PROTERVA. JS
By Sir Charles Sedi.ey
NOT,1 Caelia, that I juster am
Or better than the rest,
For I would change each hour like them
Were not my heart at rest ;
But I am tied to very thee
By every thought I have :
Thy face I only care to see,
Thy heart I only crave.
All that in woman is adored
In thy dear self I find,
For the whole sex can but afford
The handsome and the kind.
Why then should I seek farther store
And still make love anew?
When change itself can give no more
'Tis easy to be true.
1 In vol. ii., p. 307, of Durfey's Pills to Purge Melau-
choly, 17 19, is a copy of verses to Cynthia (by Durfey, I
suppose) written in close imitation of this song of Sedley.
The poems in vols. i. and ii. of the Pills are usually ascribed
to Durfey ; but some of the pieces in those two volumes are
certainly not by him.
L
74 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
TO A DEVOUT YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN.
"P)HILLTS, this early zealassuage,
■*- You over-act your part ;
The martyrs at your tender age
Gave Heaven but half their heart.
Old men, till past the pleasure, ne'er
Declaim against the sin ;
'Tis early to begin to fear
The devil at fifteen.
The world to youth is too severe,
And, like a treacherous light,
Beauty the actions of the fair
Exposes to their sight.
And yet this world, as old as 'tis,
Is oft deceived by 't too :
Kind combinations seldom miss,
Let's try what we can do.
MUSA PROTERVA. 75
By Sir Charles Sedley.
LOVE still has something of the sea
From whence his mother rose ;
No time his slaves from doubt can free
Nor give their thoughts repose.
They are becalmed in clearest days,
And in rough weather tost ;
They wither under cold delays
Or are in tempests lost.
One while they seem to touch the port ;
Then straight into the main
Some angry wind in cruel sport
The vessel drives again.
At first Disdain and Pride they fear,
Which if they chance to scape,
Rivals and Falsehood soon appear
In a more dreadful shape.
By such degrees to joy they come
And are so long withstood,
So slowly they receive the sum
It hardly does them good.
76 MUSA PROTERVA.
Tis cruel to prolong a pain ;
And to defer a joy,
Believe me, gentle Celemene,
Offends tbe winged boy.
An hundred thousand oaths your fears
Perhaps would not remove ;
And if I gazed a thousand years
I could no 'deeper love.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
A DlALOGUE BETWEEN AMINTAS AND CELIA.
Celia.
AMINTAS, I am come alone,
A silly harmless maid :
But whither is thy honour flown ?
I fear I am betrayed :
Thy looks are changed, and in the place
Of innocent desires,
Methinks I see thy eyes and face
Glow with unusual fires.
MUSA PROTERVA. 77
Amintas. Sees not my Celia Nature wear
One countenance in the spring,
And yet another shape prepare
To bring the harvest in ?
Look on the eagle, how unlike
He to the egg is found
When he prepares his pounce to strike
His prey against the ground.
Fears might my infant-love become ;
'Twere want of vigour now,
Should modesty those hopes benumb
The place and you allow.
Celia. Amintas, hold ! what could you worse
To worst of women do ?
Ah how could you a passion nurse
So much my honour's foe !
Amintas. Make not an idol of a toy
Which every breath can shake,
Which all must have or none enjoy,
What course soe'er we take.
Whilst women hate, or men are vain,
You cannot be secure :
What makes my Celia then a pain
So needless to endure ?
78 MUSA PROTERVA.
Celia. Could I the world neglect for thee,
Thy love, tho' dear it cost,
In some unkind conceit of me
Would be untimely lost :
Thou wouldst thy own example fear,
And every heedless word,
I chance let fall beyond thy ear,
Would some new doubt afford.
Amintas. If I am jealous 'tis because
I know not where you love :
With me obey Love's gentle laws
And all my fears remove.
Celia. Women, like things, at second hand
Do half their value lose ;
But, whilst all courtship they withstand,
May at their pleasure choose.
Amintas. This were a fine discourse, my dear,
If we were not alone,
But now love whispers in my ear
There's somewhat to be done.
She said she never would forgive ;
He, kissing, swore she should,
And told her she was mad to strive
Against their mutual good.
MUSA PROTERVA. 79
What further passed I cannot tell,
But sure not much amiss :
He vowed he loved her dearly well,
She answered with a kiss.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
O MOOTH was the water, calm the air,
y~' The evening sun deprest ;
Lawyers dismissed the noisy bar,
The labourer at rest ;
When Strephon with his charming fair
Crossed the proud river Thames,
And to a garden did repair
To quench their mutual flames.
The crafty waiter soon espied
Youth Sparkling in her eyes ;
He brought no ham nor neat-tongues dried,
But cream and strawberries.
The amorous Strephon asked the maid
" What's whiter than this cream ? "
She blushed and could not tell, she said :
" Thy teeth, my pretty lamb.
8o MUSA PROTERVA.
What's redder than these berries are ? "
" I know not," she replied :
" Those lips, which I'll no longer spare,"
The burning shepherd cried ;
And straight began to hug her :
" This kiss, my dear,
Is sweeter far
Than strawberries, cream, and sugar."
By Sir Charles Sedley.
T)HILLIS is my only joy,
■*■ Faithless as the winds or seas ;
Sometimes coming, sometimes coy,
Yet she never fails to please :
If with a frown
I am cast down,
Phillis smiling,
And beguiling,
Makes me happier than before.
Tho' alas ! too late I find
Nothing can her fancy fix,
Yet the moment she is kind
I forgive her all her tricks :
MUSA PROTERVA. *>i
Which tho' I see,
I can't get free :
She deceiving,
I believing :
What need lovers wish for more ?
By Sir Charles Sedi.ev.
Advice to Lovers.
"F^vAMON, if thou wilt believe me,
«■— " Tis not sighing round the plain ;
Songs and sonnets can't relieve thee,
Faint attempts in love are vain.
Urge but home the fair occasion
And be master of the field ;
To a powerful kind invasion
Tis a madness not to yield.
Love gives out a large commission,
Still indulgent to the brave,
But one sin of base omission
Never woman yet forgave.
M
82 MUSA PROTERVA.
Though she swears she'll ne'er permit ye,
Cries you're rude and much to blame,
Or with tears implores your pity,
Be not merciful for shame.
When the fierce assault is over,
Chloris time enough will find
This her cruel furious lover
Much more gentle, not so kind.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
On the happy Corydon and Phillis.
A/DUNG Corydon and Phillis
■■■ Sat in a lovely grove,
Contriving crowns of lilies,
Repeating toys of love,
And something else, but what I dare not name.
But as they were a-playing,
She ogled so the swain
It saved her plainly saying
Let's kiss to ease our pain,
And
MUSA PROTERVA.
A thousand times he kist her,
Laying her on the green ;
But as he further prest her
A pretty leg was seen,
And
So many beauties viewing,
His ardour still increased,
And, greater joys pursuing,
He wandered o'er her breast,
And
A last effort she trying
His passion to withstand,
Cried, but 'twas faintly crying,
Pray take away your hand,
And
Young Corydon, grown bolder,
The minutes would improve ;
This is the time, he told her,
To show you how I love,
And
The nymph seemed almost dying,
Dissolved in amorous heat ;
84 MUSA PROTERVA.
She kissed and told him, sighing,
My dear, your love is great,
And
But Phillis did recover
Much sooner than the swain ;
She blushing asked her lover,
Shall we not kiss again ?
And
Thus love his revels keeping,
Till nature at a stand,
From talk they fell to sleeping,
Holding each other's hand,
And
From Sir Charles Sedley's
Bellamira, or the Mislress,
1687.
WHEN first I made love to my Chloris,
Canon oaths I brought down
To batter the town,
And I stormed her with amorous stories.
MUSA PROTERVA. 85
Billets-doux like small shot did ply her,
And sometimes a song
Went whizzing along ;
But still I was never the nigher.
At last she sent word by a trumpet,
If I like that life
She would be my wife,
But never be any man's strumpet.
I told her that Mars would not marry,
And swore by my scars,
Single combats and wars,
I'd rather dig stones in a quarry.
By Sir Charles Sedley.
Indifference excused.
T OVE, when 'tis true, needs not the aid
"■— ' Of sighs nor oaths to make it known ;
And, to convince the cruel'st maid,
Lovers should use their love alone.
86 MUSA PROTERVA.
Into their very looks 'twill steal,
And he that most would hide his flame
Does in that case his pain reveal ;
Silence itself can love proclaim.
This, my Aurelia, made me shun
The paths that common lovers tread,
Whose guilty passions are begun
Not in their heart but in their head.
I could not sigh and with crossed arms
Accuse your rigour and my fate ;
Nor tax your beauty with such charms
As men adore and women hate :
But careless lived and without art,
Knowing my love you must have spied,
And thinking it a foolish part
To set to show what none can hide.
MUSA PROTERVA. 87
From James HowardV The
English Monsieur, 1674.
ADIES, farewell, I must retire :
■*— ■ ' Though I your faces all admire
And think you heavens in your kinds,
Some for beauties, some for minds ;
If I stay and fall in love,
One of these heavens hell would prove.
Could I know one and she not know it,
Perhaps I then might undergo it ;
But if the least she guess my mind,
Straight in a circle I'm confined :
By this I see who once doth dote
Must wear a woman's livery coat.
Therefore, this danger to prevent,
And still to keep my heart's content,
Into the country I'll with speed,
With hounds and hawks my fancy feed :
Both safer pleasures to pursue
Than staying to converse with you.
1 James Howard was- a brother of Sir Robert Howard
(and brother-in-law of Dryden).
MUSA PROTERVA.
From Thomas Shadwell's A
True Widow, 1678.
A ' Copy of Verses upon a Flea presented to
HIS MlSTRESS IN A GOLD CHAIN.
/^V HAPPY flea, that may'st both kiss and bite,
^— ' Like lovers in their height of appetite,
Her neck so white !
Pretty black alderman in golden chain,
Who suck'st her blood yet put'st her to no pain,
Whilst I in vain
[Ccetera desu?it.~\
1 I quote this trifle merely for the whimsical fourth line,
" Pretty black alderman in golden chain." In Thoma»
Heyrick's Miscellany Poems, 1691, is a copy of verses by
Joshua Barnes, " On a flea presented to a lady, whose breast
it had bitten, in a golden wire. 1679 " : —
... "I saw him surfeit on your lovely breast,
And snatched the traitor from that precious feast," &c.
MUSA PROTERVA. 89
From Thomas Shadwei.l's
TTie Squire 0/ Alsatia, 168S.
The Expostulation.
ii ^TILL wilt thou sigh, and still in vain
^— " A cold neglectful nymph adore ?
No longer fruitlesslycomplain,
But to thyself thyself restore.
In youth thou caught'st this fond disease,
And should'st abandon it in age :
Some other nymph as well may please ;
Absence, or business, disengage."
" On tender hearts the wounds of love,
Like those imprinted on young trees,
Or kill at first, or else they prove
Larger b' insensible degrees.
Business I tried, she filled my mind ;
On others' lips my dear I kissed ;
But never solid joy could find
VVhere I my charming Sylvia missed.
9o MUSA PROTERVA.
" Long absence, like a Greenland ' night,
Made me but wish for sun the more ;
And that inimitable light
She, none but she, could e'er restore."
" She never once regards thy fire,
Nor ever vents one sigh for thee."
" I must the glorious sun admire
Though he can never look on me."
" Look well, you'll find she's not so rare ;
Much of her former beauty's gone."
" My love, her shadow, larger far
Is made by her declining sun.
What if her glories faded be ?
My former wounds I must endure,
For, should the bow unbended be,
Yet that can never help the cure."
1 CF. Cowley's verses, The Parting: —
" As men in Greenland left beheld the sun
From their horizon run,
And thought upon the sad half year
Of cold and darkness they must suffer there,
So on my parting mistress did I look."
MUSA PROTERVA. 91
By Thomas Otway.
The Enchantment.
IDID but look and love a-while,
Twas but for one half-hour ;
Then to resist I had no will,
And now I have no power.
To sigh and wish is all my ease ;
Sighs, which do heat impart,
Enough to melt the coldest ice,
Yet cannot warm your heart
O would your pity give my heart
One corner of your breast,
'Twould learn of yours the winning art
And quickly steal the rest.
92 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Nahum Tate.
The Penance.
NYMPH Fanaret, the gentlest maid
That ever happy swain obeyed,
(For what offence I cannot say)
A day and night, and half a day,
Banished her shepherd from her sight :
His fault for certain was not slight,
Or sure this tender judge had ne'er
Imposed a penance so severe.
And lest she should anon revoke
What in her warmer rage she spoke,
She bound the sentence with an oath,
Protested by her Faith and Troth,
Nought should compound for his offence
But the full time of abstinence.
Yet when his penance-glass were run,
His hours of castigation done,
Should he defer one moment's space
To come and be restored to grace,
With sparkling threat'ning eyes she swore
That failing would incense her more
Than all his trespasses before.
MUSA PROTERVA. 93
From The Westminster Drollery
(Second Part), 1672.
The Amorous Girl.
THERE'S none so pretty
As my sweet Betty,
She bears away the bell ;
For sweetness and neatness,
And all completeness,
All other girls doth excel.
Whenever we meet
She'll lovingly greet
Me still with a " How d'ye do ? "
" WelL, I thank you," quoth I :
Then she will reply
" So am I, sir, the better for you ! "
I asked her how ;
She told me, not now,
For walls had ears and eyes ;
Nay she bid me take heed
Whatever I did,
For 'tis good to be merry and wise.
94 MUSA PROTERVA.
Then I took her by th' hand,
Which she did not withstand,
And I gave her a smirking kiss ;
She gave me another,
Just like the t'other :
Quoth I, " What a comfort is this ! "
This put me in heart
To play o'er my part
That I had intended before ;
But she bid me to hold,
And not be too bold,
Until she had fastened the door.
Then she went to the hatch
To see that the latch
And crannies were all cocksure ;
And when she had done
She bid me come on,
For now we were both secure.
And what we did there
I dare not declare,
But think that silence is best ;
And if you will know,
Why, I kissed her, or so,
But ril leave you to guess at the rest.
MUSA PROTERVA. 95
From Thomas Duffett's New
Poetns, Songs, &.C., 1676. l
Valentine's Day.
T) EFORE the youthful spring had dyed
■*-* The earth with Flora's chequered pride,
Before the new-thawed fields were seen
Dressed in a joyful summer's green ;
Grey-bearded Winter's frosty chain
Was just dissolved by Phoebus' wain ;
And the aspiring God flown high
To guard the spring in 's infancy,
Inviting Flora from her bed
To rob her of her maidenhead :
Ere fair Aurora's blushing head
Had edged the eastern hills with red,
My restless fancy guided me
Into a happy privacy,
Where the embracing trees had made
A pleasant, tho' yet leafless, shade.
1 This volume is identical with Neiu Songs and Poems . . .
By P. W., Gent. 1677.
96 MUSA PROTERVA.
Each naked branch in coupling wise
A pretty harmless love-knot ties,
Frorn which conjunction nature shoots
Sweet blossoms and delicious fruits :
The winged music of the air
Did to this amorous grove repair,
And with their tempting notes did grace
The various pleasures of the place.
As I surprised with wonder sate
Each bird chose out his feathered mate,
And seeming fearful of delay
Through yielding air they cut their way ;
Some to the woods, some to the groves
To consummate their eager loves.
So have I seen at Hymen's feasts
A company of youthful guests
A thousand ways advance delight ;
But when the long-wished lazy night
To bed invokes the blushing bride
Love's endless quarrel to decide,
A silent envy spreads each face,
Tlie men wish his, the maids her place,
And ere that single wedding's o'er
It gives a birth to twenty more.
Musing how pow'rful Nature was,
MUSA PROTERVA. 97
Sometimes through prickly thorns I pass,
Whose winding branches seemed to court
Me to attend the harmless sport.
Sometimes I walk by crystal springs
Whose gliding streams in circling rings
Unto the music list'ning stood
Till, pressed by the pursuing flood,
Their angry murmurs did betray
How loth they were to pass away.
Grown weary with this pleasing sight
(Excess of pleasure dulls delight),
To rest my drowsy sense, I sought
The softest, sweetest, grassy plot ;
But as I wandered here and there,
A voice arrests my idle ear,
Which from a neighbouring thicket flies.
Drawn thither by my greedy eyes,
Two loving rogues within it lay ;
And thus I heard the puppets play.
Long did I muse, but all in vain
What wanton stars that day did reign,
But as my steps did homewards stray
I met my Phcebe by the way,
My Phcebe whose commanding eyes
Had made my heart her sacrifice.
o
98 MUSA PROTERVA.
To her fair hand I paid a kiss,
But she returned a greater bliss :
Presenting violets to me,
" Good-morrow, Valentine ! " said she.
From New Airs and Dialogues,
&c, 1678.
MORE ' love or more disdain I crave ;
Sweet, be not still indifferent :
O send me quickly to my grave,
Or else afford me more content.
Or love or hate me more or less,
For Love abhors all lukewarmness.
Give me a tempest if 'twill drive
Me to the place where I would be ;
Or if you'll have me still alive,
Confess you will be kind to me.
Give hopes of bliss or dig my grave :
More love or more disdain I crave.
These words were made
by Mr. Charles Webbk.
1 Set to music by Henry Purcell.
MUSA PROTERVA, 99
From New Airs and Dialogues
composed for Voices and
Viols, 1678.
T T 7HEN ' I a lover pale do see
™ ™ Ready to faint and sickish be,
With hollow eyes, and cheeks so thin
As all his face is nose and chin ;
When such a ghost I see in pain
Because he is not loved again,
And pale and faint and sigh and cry ;
Oh there's your loving fool ! say I.
Tis love with love should be repaid
And equally on both sides laid ;
Love is a load a horse would kill
If it do hang on one side still ;
But if he needs will be so fond
As rules of reason go beyond,
And love where he's not loved again,
Faith, let him take it for his pain.
1 Set to music by Henry Purcell.
MUSA PROTERVA.
From New Airs and Dialogues,
1678.
"IV /T AIDS, beware ! maids, beware !
<!■*-»■ Nets and traps men's kisses are,
Spread and set merely in wiles,
Baited with oaths, false tears, and smiles.
Fie, away ! fie, away !
Indeed you must not : nay, nay, nay !
If I should yield I were undone :
You have your answer, now begone !
By Anne, Marchioness of
Wharton.
T OW hardly I concealed my tears,
■*■ ■"• How oft did I complain !
When, many tedious days, my fears
Told me I loved in vain.
But now my joys as wild are grown,
And hard to be concealed ;
Sorro»v may make a silent moan,
But joy will be revealed.
MUSA PROTERVA. 101
I tell it to the bleating flocks,
To every stream and tree ;
And bless the hollow murmuring rocks
For echoing back to me.
Thus you may see with how rrruch joy
"We want, we wish, believe ;
'Tis hard such passion to destroy,
But easy to deceive.
From John Playford's Fifth
Book of Choice Airs, 1684.
TELL me, Jenny, tell me roundly,
When will you your heart surrender ?
Faith and troth, I love thee soundly,
'Twas I that was the first pretender.
Ne'er say nay, nor delay,
Here's my heart and here's my hand too ;
All thafs mine shall be thine,
Body and goods at thy command too."
11 Ah ! how many maids," quoth Jenny,
Have you promised to be true to ?
Fie, I think the devil's in ye l
To kiss a body so as you do.
1 Olded. "you."
MUSA PROTERVA.
What d'ye [do] ? let me go ;
I can't abide such foolish doing.
Get you gone ! naughty man !
Fie, is this your way of wooing ! "
From Philip Ayres' Lyric
Poems, made in imitalion
ofthe Italians, 1687.
The Morn.
T T 7 HEN light begins the eastern heaven to
* * grace,
And the night's torches to the sun give place,
Diana leaves her shepherd to his sleep,
Grieved that her horns cannot their lustre keep ;
The boughs on which the wanton birds do throng
Dance to the music of their chirping song,
Whilst they rejoice the dusky clouds are fled
And bright Aurora rises from her bed ;
Then fools and flatterers to courts resort,
Lovers of game up and pursue the sport ;
With last night's sleep refreshed, the lab'ring swain
Cheerfully settles to his work again ;
MUSA PROTERVA. 103
Pleased Hob unfolds his flocks, and, vvhilst they
feed,
Sits and makes music on his oaten reed :
Then I wake too, and viewiDg Lesbia's charms
Do glut myself with pleasure in her arms.
By John Sheffield, Duke
OF BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.
Inconstancy excused.
T MUST confess I am untrue
■*• To Gloriana's eyes ;
But he that's smiled upon by you
Must all the world despise.
In winter fires of little worth
Excite our dull desire ;
But when the sun breaks kindly forth
Those fainter flames expire.
Then blame me not for slightiog now
What I did once adore :
O do but this one change allow,
And I can change no more ;
104 MUSA PROTERVA.
Fixt by your never-failing charms
Till I with age decay,
Till languishing within your arms
I sigh my soul away.
By John Sheffield, Duke
OF BUCKINGHAMSIIIRE.
/^OME, Celia, lefs agree at last
^— ' To love and live in quiet ;
Let's tie the knot so very fast
That time shall ne'er untie it.
Love's dearest joys they never prove,
Who free from quarrels live ;
Tis sure a godlike part of love
Each other to forgive.
When least I seemed concerned I took
No pleasure, nor had rest ;
And when I feigned an angry look,
Alas ! I loved you best.
Say but the same to me, you'll find
How blest will be our fate ;
Sure to be grateful, to be kind,
Can never be too late.
MUSA PROTERVA. 105
By WlLLIAM CONGREVE.
r I AELL me no more I am deceived,
■*■ That Chloe's false and common ;
By Heaven ! I all along believed
She was a very woman ;
As such I liked, as such caressed,
She still was constant, — when possessed :
She could do more for no man.
But oh ! her thoughts on others ran,
And that you think a hard thing ?
Perhaps she fancied you the man ?
Why, what care I one farthing ?
You think she's false, I'm sure she's kind,
I'll take her body, you her mind :
Who has the better bargain ?
io6 MUSA PROTERVA.
By WlLLIAM CONGREVE.
T)IOUS Selinda x goes to prayers
■*■ If I but ask the favour ;
And yet the tender fool's in tears
When she believes I'll leave her.
Would 1 were free from this restraint,
Or else had hopes to win her ;
Would she could make of me a saint,
Or I of her a sinner !
By WlLLIAM CONGREVE.
I j*AIR Amoret is gone astray,
■*■ Pursue and seek her every lover ,
I'll tell the signs by which you may
The wand'ring shepherdess discover.
Coquet and coy at once her air,
Both studied, tho' both seem neglected;
Careless she is with artful care,
Affecting to seem unaffected.
1 Mrs. Bracegirdle.
MUSA PROTERVA. 107
With skill her eyes dart ev'ry glance,
Yet change so soon you'd ne'er suspect 'em ;
For she'd persuade they wound by chance,
Tho' certain aim and art direct 'em.
She likes herself, yet others hates
For that which in herself she prizes ;
And while she laughs at them, forgets
She is the thing that she despises.
From John Wilson's Belphe-
gvr, 1690.
WERE I to take wife,
As 'tis for my life,
She should be brisk, pleasant, and merry ;
A lovely fine brown,
A face all her own,
With a lip red and round as a cherry.
Not much of the wise,
Less of the precise,
Nor over-reserved, nor yet fiying ;
Hard breasts, a straight back,
An eye full and black,
But languishing as she were dying.
io8 MUSA PROTERVA.
And then for her dress,
Be't more or be't less,
Not tawdry set out nor yet meanly ;
And one thing beside,
Just, just so much pride
As may serve to keep honest and cleanly.
By Anne Finch, Countess
OF WlNCHILSEA.
PERSUADE me not there is a grace
Proceeds from Silvia's voice or lute,
Against Miranda's charming face
To make her hold the least dispute.
Music, which tunes the soul for love
And stirs up all our soft desires,
Does but the growing flame improve
Which pow'rful Beauty first inspires.
Thus, whilst with art she plays and sings,
I to Miranda, standing by,
Impute the music of the strings
And all the melting words apply.
MUSA PROTERVA. 109
From Thomas Southerne's
Sir Antony Love, 1691.
T)URSUING beauty, men descry
* The distant shore and long to prove
(Still richer in variety)
The treasures of the land of love.
We women, like weak Indians, stand,
Inviting, from our golden coast,
The wand'ring rovers to our land :
But she who trades with 'em is lost.
With humble vows they first begin,
Stealing, unseen, into the heart ;
But, by possession settled in,
They quickly act another part.
For beads and baubles we resign
In ignorance our shining store ;
Discover nature's richest mine,
And yet the tyrants will have more.
Be wise, be wise, and do not try
How he can court or you be won,
For love is but discovery :
When that is made the pleasure's done.
iio MUSA PROTERVA.
By George Granville, Lord
Lansdowne.
To MlRA.
A T 7HY, cruel creature, why so bent
" ™ To vex a tender heart ?
To gold and title you relent ;
Love throws in vain his dart.
Let^glittering fools in courts be great,
For pay let armies move :
Beauty should have no other bait
But gentle vows and love.
If on those"endless charms you lay
The value that's their due,
Kings are themselves too poor to pay,
A thousand worlds too few :
But if a passion without vice,
Without disguise or art,
Ah, Mira, if true love's your price,
Behold it in my heart.
MUSA PROTERVA.
By Lord Lansdowne.
CHLOE'S the wonder of her sex,
Tis well her heart is tender :
How might such killing eyes perplex,
With virtue to defend her !
But Nature, graciously inclined
With liberal hand to please us,
Has to her boundless beauty joined
A boundless bent to ease us.
By Lord Lansdowne.
Chloe.
T MPATIENT with desire, at last
-*• I ventured to lay forms aside :
'Twas I was modest, not she chaste :
Chloe, so gently pressed, complied.
With idle awe, an am'rous fool,
I gazed upon her eyes with fear :
Say, Love, how came your slave so dull
To read no better there ?
MUSA PROTERVA.
Thus to ourselves the greatest foes,
Altho' the nymph be well inclined,
For want of courage to propose,
By our own folly she's unkind.
By Lord Lansdowne.
CORINNA.
O 0 well Corinna likes the joy,
*^ She vows she'll never more be coy,
She drinks eternal draughts of pleasure :
Eternal draughts do not suffice,
" O ! give me, give me more," she cries,
"Tis all too little, little measure."
Thus wisely she makes up for time
Misspent, while youth was in its prime :
So travellers who waste the day,
Careful and cautious of their way,
Noting at length the setting sun
They mend their pace as night comes on,
Double their speed to reach their inn,
And whip and spur through thick and thin.
MUSA PROTERVA. 113
By Tom Brown.
TO ' charming Cselia's arms I flew,
And there all night I feasted ;
No god such transport -ever knew,
Or raortal ever tasted.
Lost in the sweet tumultuous joy,
And blessed beyond expressing,
" How can your slave, my fair," said I,
11 Reward so great a blessing ?
" The whole creation's wealth survey,
0'er both the Indies wander ;
Ask what bribed senates give away,
And fighting monarchs squander ;
1 An imitation of the following epigram of Martial (xii.
6S):~
" Formosa Phillis nocte cum mihi tota
Se pnestitisset omnibus modis largam,
Et cogitarem mane quod darem munus,
Utrumne Cosmi, Nicerotis an Iibram,
An Bseticarum pondus acre lanarum,
An de moneta Ccesaris decem flavos :
Amplexa collum basioque tam longo
Blandita, quam sunt Duptise columbarum,
Rogare ccepit Phillis amphoram vini."
Q
H4 MUSA PROTERVA.
" The richest spoils of earth and air,
The rifled ocean's treasure :
Tis all too poor a bribe by far
To purchase so much pleasure."
She blushing cried, " My life, my dear,
Since Caelia thus you fancy,
Give her — but 'tis too much, I fear, —
A rundlet of right Nantzy."
By WlLLIAM WALSH.
Upon a Favour offered.
C^ELIA, too late you would repent
The ofTring all your store
Is now but like a pardon sent
To one that's dead before.
While at the first you cruel proved,
And grant the bliss too late,
You hindered me of one I loved
To give me one I hate.
MUSA PROTERVA. 115
I thought you innocent as fair
When first my court I made ;
But when your falsehoods plain appear
My love no longer stayed.
Your bounty of those favours shown,
Whose worth you first deface,
Is melting valued metals down
And giving us the brass.
Oh since the thing we beg 's a toy
That's prized by love alone,
Why cannot women grant the joy
Before our love is gone ?
By William Walsh.
The despairing Lover.
DISTRACTED with care
For Phillis the fair,
Since nothing could move her,
Poor Damon, her lover,
Resolves in despair
No longer to languish
Nor bear so much anguish ;
n6 MUSA PROTERVA.
But, mad with his love,
To a precipice goes,
Where a leap from above
Would soon finish his woes.
When in rage he came there,
Beholding how steep
The sides did appear,
And the bottom how deep j
His torments projecting,
And sadly reflecting
That a lover forsaken
A new love may get,
But a neck when once broken
Isn't easily set ;
And that he could die
Whenever he would,
But that he could live
But as long as he could :
How grievous soever
The torment might grow,
He scorned to endeavour
To finish it so ;
MUSA PROTERVA. 117
And bold, unconcerned
At thoughts of the pain,
He calmly returned
To his cottage again.
By Bishop Atterbury.
VVritten on a White Fan borrowed from Miss
osborne, afterwards his wife.
T^LAVIA the least and slightest toy
■*■ Can with resistless art employ :
This fan in meaner hands would prove
An engine of small force in love ;
Yet she with graceful air and mien,
Not to be told or safely seen,
Directs its wanton motions so
That it wounds more than Cupid's bow ;
Gives coolness to the matchless dame,
To every other breast — a fiame.
n8 MUSA PROTERVA.
By John Oldmixon.
The Grove.
OTIS sweet, 'tis wondrous sweet
When I and Amaryllis meet
In a fragrant shady grove,
Full of wishes. full of love.
O what pretty things we say !
How the minutes fly away !
When, with glances mingling kisses,
We prepare for softer blisses ;
On some mossy bank we lie,
Play and touch, embrace and die ;
Then from little feuds and jars
We proceed to amorous wars :
0 how many heavens we find !
1 am young and she is kind,
Kind and free without design,
Mine at will and only mine ;
Smiling always, always toying,
Ever fond, yet never cloying.
Could the coldest hermit see
Half the sweets enjoyed by me ;
MUSA PROTERVA. 119
Happy once to see her eyes,
Press her lips and hear her sighs,
Clasp her waist and touch her skin,
Soon he would forget the sin :
All his darling hopes of bliss
In a distant Paradise,
AU with ease he would resign
For a minute's taste of mine.
By John Oldmixon.
To Chloe.
T)R1THEE, Chloe, not so fast,
"*■ Lefs not run and wed in haste ;
We've a thousand things to do ;
You must fly and I pursue,
You must frown and I must sigh,
I intreat and you deny.
Stay — if I am never crost,
Half the pleasure will be lost.
Be, or seem to be, severe ;
Give me reason to despair :
Fondness will my wishes cloy,
Make me careless of the joy.
120 MUSA PROTERVA.
Lovers may of course complain
Of their trouble and their pain,
But, if pain and trouble cease,
Love without it will not please.
By John Oldmixon.
WHEN with Flavia I am toying
She with little sports gives o'er;
Kissing is not half enjoying,
Vouth and passion covet more.
Every touch, methinks, should move her
And to dearer joys invite,
When she knows how much I love her
And is fond of the delight.
Oh I see her young and tender,
Feel her lips with passion warm,
See her ready to surrender
When her fears dissolve the, charm !
Banish, Flavia, all suspicion,
All your sullen doubts destroy :
Trust me, there's no worse condition
Than to wish and not enjoy.
MUSA PROTERVA. 121
By John Oldmixon.
" I ^HOSE arts which common beauties move,
■*• Corinna, you despise :
You think there's nothing wise in love
Or eloquent in sighs.
You laugh at ogle, cant, and song,
And promises abuse :
But say — for I have courted long —
What methods shall I use ?
We must not praise your charms and wit,
Nor talk of dart and flame ;
But sometimes you can think it fit
To smile at what you blame.
Your sex's forms, which you disown,
Alas ! you can't forbear ;
But in a minute smile and frown,
Are tender and severe.
Corinna, let us now be free ;
No more your arts pursue,
Unless you suffer me to be
As whimsical as you.
R
122 MUSA PROTERVA.
At last the vain dispute desist,
To love resign the field :
'Twas custom forced you to resist,
And custom bids you yield.
ByPETERANTHONV MOTTEUX.
MAN is for the woman made,
And the woman made for man ;
As the spur is for the jade,
As the scabbard for the blade,
As for digging is the spade,
As for liquor is the can,
So man is for the woman made
And the woman made for man.
As the sceptre's to be swayed,
As for night's the serenade,
As for pudding is the pan
And to cool us is the fan,
So man is for the woman made
And the woman made for man.
MUSA PROTERVA. 123
Be she widow, wife, or maid,
Be she wanton, be she staid,
Be she well or ill arrayed,
Whore, bawd, or harridan,
Yet man is for the woman made
And the woman made for man.
ByPETER Anthony Motteux.
ILOVE, but she alone shall know,
Who is herself my treasure :
Vain lovers when their joys they show
Call partners to their pleasure :
Let empty beaux the favour miss
While they would have it known ;
That soul's too narrow for the bliss
Who can't enjoy alone.
Then never let my love be told
By way of modern toasting ;
The sweetest joy, like fairy gold,
Is lost by selfish boasting.
Too rich to show, what I profess,
My treasure I'll conceal ;
I may my pains of love confess,
But ne'er my joys reveal.
I24 MUSA PROTERVA.
By Peter Anthony Motteux
BOASTING fops, who court the fair
For the fame of being loved,
You who daily prating are
Of the hearts your charms have rnoved,
Still be vain in talk and dress,
But, while shadows you pursue,
Own that some who boast it less
May be blest as much as you.
Love and birding are allied,
Baits and nets alike they have,
The same arts in both are tried
The unwary to enslave :
If in each you'd happy prove,
Without noise still watch your prey r
For, in birding and in love,
While we talk it flies away.
MUSA PROTERVA. 125
By Thomas Rymer.
A kind Man to his froward Mate.
PHILLIS, I expect caresses,
Lay that angry vizard by ;
I know better what the face is
That obtained the victory
And first made a slave of me :
'Twas adorned with all the Graces,
Which from this affrighted flee.
Never labour to unsettle,
Never strive where Fates ordain ;
In a sort of stubborn metal
Linked together we remain :
Trust me, Phillis, 'tis in vain,
'Tis unwise to make it rattle,
When we cannot break the chain.
By the huff, the heat, the clamour,
Surely Vulcan's forge is near,
Where Jove's angry bolts they hammer ;
Love no shafts has pointed here,
'Tis too hot for Love to bear :
Bless me, if e'er this enamour !
Phillis, pray this heat forbear.
126 MUSA PROTERVA.
This is fire to burn a city ;
Give us Love's kind, gentle flame,
Where two hearts, in mutual treaty,
All by-wandering thoughts reclaim,
Every spark of discord tame,
And, o'erwhelmed with amorous pity,
Pant and melt and glow1 the same.
By Thomas Rymer.
ATE when Love I seemed to slight,
■■ — ' Phillis smiled, as well she might.
" Now," said she, " our throne may tremble,
Men our province now invade ;
Men take up our royal trade ;
Men, even men, do now dissemble :
In the dust our Empire's laid."
Tutored by the wise and grave,
Loath was I to be a slave :
Mistress sounded arbitrary,
1 Old ed. "grow."
MUSA PROTERVA. 127
So I chose to hide my flame ;
Friendship a discreeter name :
But she scorns one jot to vary,
She will Love or nothing claim.
Be a lover, or pretend,
Rather than the warmest friend :
Friendship of another kind is, (
Swedish coin of gross allay,
A cart-load will scarce defray :
Love, one grain, is worth the Indies,
Only Love is current pay.
From George Farquhar's
The Constant Coufle, 1700
THUS Damon knocked at Celia's door,
He sighed and begged and wept and swore :
The sign was so : [Knocks.
She answered " No,
No, no, no." [Knocks thrice.
Again he.sighed, again he prayed :
" No, Damon, no, I am a maid;
128 MUSA PROTERVA.
Consider,
No,
I'm a maid.
No," &c.
At last his sighs and tears made way ;
She rose and softly turned the key :
" Come in," said she, " but do not stay ;
I may conclude
You will be rude :
But, if you are, you may."
Printed by Lowe & Brydone (Printers) Ltd.
Camden Town, London.N.W.l.
PR Bullen, Arthur Henry (ed.)
1213 Musa proterva
B8
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