Poems (1686) Part 2

VIII.

Now all those Charmes, that blooming Grace, The well-proportion'd Shape, and beauteous Face, Shall never more be seen by Mortal Eyes; In Earth the much lamented Virgin lies!

Not Wit, nor Piety could Fate prevent; Nor was the cruel _Destiny_ content To finish all the Murder at a Blow, To sweep at once her Life, and Beauty too; But, like a hardn'd Fellon, took a pride To work more Mischievously slow.

And plunder'd first, and then destroy'

O double Sacriledge on things Divine, To rob the Relique, and deface the Shrine!

But thus _Orinda_ dy'd: Heav'n, by the same Disease, did both translate, As equal were their Souls, so equal was their Fate.

IX.

Mean time her Warlike Brother on the Seas His waving Streamers to the Winds displays, And vows for his Return, with vain Devotion, pays.

Ah, Generous Youth, that Wish forbear, The Winds too soon will waft thee here!

Slack all thy Sailes, and fear to come, Alas, thou know'st not, Thou art wreck'd at home!

No more shalt thou behold thy Sisters Face, Thou hast already had her last Embrace.

But look aloft, and if thou ken'st from far, Among the _Pleiad_'s a New-kindl'd Star, If any sparkles, than the rest, more bright, 'Tis she that s.h.i.+nes in that propitious Light.

X.

When in mid-Aire, the Golden Trump shall sound, To raise the Nations under ground; When in the Valley of _Jehosaphat_, The Judging G.o.d shall close the Book of Fate; And there the last a.s.sizes keep, For those who Wake, and those who sleep; When ratling Bones together fly From the four Corners of the Skie, When Sinews o're the Skeletons are spread, Those cloath'd with Flesh, and Life inspires the Dead; The Sacred Poets first shall hear the Sound, } And formost from the Tomb shall bound: } For they are cover'd with the lightest Ground } And streight, with in-born Vigour, on the Wing, Like mounting Larkes, to the New Morning sing.

There _Thou_, Sweet Saint, before the Quire shalt go, As Harbinger of Heav'n, the Way to show, The Way which thou so well hast learn'd below.

=J. Dryden.=

The Epitaph Engraved on her TOMB.

P. M. S.

Annae Killigrew, Doctoris KILLIGREW Filiae, _Quae in ipso aetatis flore Obiit._ JUNII 16. 1685.

_Heu jacet, fato victa, Quae stabat ubique victrix Forma, ingenio, religione; Plura collegerat in se Una, Quam vel sparsa mireris in omnibus!

Talem quis pingat, nisi penicillo quod tractavit?_ _Aut quis canat, nisi Poeta sui similis?

c.u.m tanta sciret, hoc Unum ignoravit, Quanta, nempe, esset; Aut si norit.

Mirare Modestiam, Tantis incorruptam dotibus.

Laudes meruisse satis illi fuit, Has ne vel audiret, laudatores omnes fugerat, Contenta paterno Lare, Dum & sibi Aula patebat adulatrix.

Mundum sapere an potuit, Quae ab infantia Christum sapuerat?

Non modo semper Virgo, Sed & virginum Exemplar.

Gentis suae Decus, aevi Splendor, s.e.xus Miraculum.

Nulla Vertute inferior cuiquam, Cuilibet superior multa.

Optimi Deliciae patris, Etiam numerosa optimaque prole fortunatissimi: Priorem tamen invidit nemo_, (_Seu frater, seu soror_) _Quin potius coluere omnes, omnibus suavem & officiosam, Amorisque commune Vinculum & Centrum.

Vix ista credes. Hanc si nescieris; Credet majora qui scierit._

_Abi Viator, & Plange: Si eam plangi oporteat, Cui, tam pie morienti, Vel Coelites plauserint._

The Same

Turned into English.

By Death, alas, here Conquer'd lies, She who from All late bore the Prize In Beauty, Wit, Vertue Divine: In whom those Graces did combine, Which we admir'd in others see, When they but singly scatter'd be!

Who her, _so Great_, can paint beside, The Pencil her own Hand did guide?

What Verse can celebrate her Fame, But such as She herself did frame?

Though much Excellence she did show, And many Qualities did know, Yet this, alone, she could not tell, To wit, _How much she did excel_.

Or if her Worth she rightly knew, More to her Modesty was due, That Parts in her no Pride could raise } Desirous still to merit Praise, } But fled, as she deserv'd, the Bays. } Contented always to retire, Court Glory she did not admire; Although it lay so neer and faire, It's Grace to none more open were: But with the World how should she close, Who _Christ_ in her first Childhood chose?

So with her Parents she did live, That they to Her did Honour give, As she to them. In a Num'rous Race And Vertuous, the highest Place None envy'd her: Sisters, Brothers Her Admirers were and Lovers: She was to all s'obliging sweet, All in One Love to her did meet.

A Virgin-Life not only led, But it's Example might be said.

The Ages Ornament, the Name That gave her s.e.x and Country Fame.

Those who her Person never knew, Will hardly think these things are true: But those that did, will More believe, And higher things of her conceive.

Thy Eyes in tears now, Reader, steep: For Her if't lawful be to weep, Whose blessed and Seraphique End Angels in Triumph did attend.

Alexandreis.

I Sing the Man that never Equal knew, Whose Mighty Arms all _Asia_ did subdue, Whose Conquests through the s.p.a.cious World do ring, That City-Raser, King-destroying King, Who o're the Warlike _Macedons_ did Reign, And worthily the Name of _Great_ did gain.

This is the Prince (if Fame you will believe, To ancient Story any credit give.) Who when the Globe of Earth he had subdu'd, With Tears the easie Victory pursu'd; Because that no more Worlds there were to win, No further Scene to act his Glorys in.

Ah that some pitying _Muse_ would now inspire My frozen style with a Poetique fire, And Raptures worthy of his Matchless Fame, Whose Deeds I sing, whose never fading Name Long as the world shall fresh and deathless last, No less to future Ages, then the past.

Great my presumption is, I must confess, But if I thrive, my Glory's ne're the less; Nor will it from his Conquests derogate A Female Pen his Acts did celebrate.

If thou O _Muse_ wilt thy a.s.sistance give, Such as made _Naso_ and great _Maro_ live, With him whom _Melas_ fertile Banks did bear, Live, though their Bodies dust and ashes are; Whose Laurels were not fresher, than their Fame Is now, and will for ever be the same.

If the like favour thou wilt grant to me, O Queen of Verse, I'll not ungrateful be, My choicest hours to thee I'll Dedicate, 'Tis thou shalt rule, 'tis thou shalt be my Fate.

But if Coy G.o.ddess thou shalt this deny, And from my humble suit disdaining fly, I'll stoop and beg no more, since I know this, Writing of him, I cannot write amiss: His lofty Deeds will raise each feeble line, And G.o.d-like Acts will make my Verse Divine.

'Twas at the time the golden Sun doth rise, And with his Beams enlights the azure skies, When lo a Troop in Silver Arms drew near, The glorious Sun did nere so bright appear; Dire Scarlet Plumes adorn'd their haughty Crests, And crescent s.h.i.+elds did shade their s.h.i.+ning Brests; Down from their shoulders hung a Panthers Hide, A Bow and Quiver ratled by their side; Their hands a knotty well try'd Speare did bear, Jocund they seem'd, and quite devoyd of fear.

These warlike Virgins were, that do reside Near _Thermodons_ smooth Banks and verdant side, The Plains of _Themiscyre_ their Birth do boast, _Thalestris_ now did head the beauteous Host; She emulating that Ill.u.s.trious Dame, Who to the aid of _Troy_ and _Priam_ came, And her who the _Retulian_ Prince did aid, Though dearly both for their a.s.sistance paid.

But fear she scorn'd, nor the like fate did dread, Her Host she often to the field had lead, As oft in Triumph had return'd again, Glory she only sought for all her pain.

This Martial Queen had heard how lowdly fame, Eccho'd our Conquerors redoubted Name, Her Soul his Conduct and his Courage fir'd, To see the Heroe she so much admir'd; And to _Hyrcania_ for this cause she went, Where _Alexander_ (wholly then intent On Triumphs and such Military sport) At Truce with War held both his Camp and Court.

And while before the Town she did attend Her Messengers return, she saw ascend A cloud of Dust, that cover'd all the skie, And still at every pause there stroke her eye.

The interrupted Beams of Burnisht Gold, As dust the Splendour hid, or did unfold; Loud Neighings of the Steeds, and Trumpets sound Fill'd all the Air, and eccho'd from the ground: The gallant _Greeks_ with a brisk March drew near, And their great Chief did at their Head appear.

And now come up to th'_Amazonian_ Band, They made a Hault and a respectful Stand: And both the Troops (with like amazement strook) Did each on other with deep silence look.

Th'Heroick Queen (whose high pretence to War Cancell'd the bashful Laws and nicer Bar Of Modesty, which did her s.e.x restrain) First boldly did advance before her Train, And thus she spake. All but a G.o.d in Name, And that a debt Time owes unto thy Fame.

_This was the first Essay of this young Lady in Poetry, but finding the Task she had undertaken hard, she laid it by till Practice and more time should make her equal to so great a Work._