ON

Receiving from the Right Hon. the Lady

FRANCES

SHIRLEY,

A STANDISH AND TWO PENS.

Y

ES,

I beheld th' Athenian Queen

Descend in all her fober charms;

"And take (she said, and smil'd ferene)

Take at this hand celestial arms.

Secure the radiant weapons wield;

"This golden lance shall guard Defert,

"And if a Vice dares keep the field,

"This steel shall stab it to the heart."

Aw'd, on my bended knees I fell,
Receiv'd the weapons of the sky;
And dipp'd them in the fable Well,
The Fount of Fame or Infamy.

"What Well? what Weapon? (Flavia cries)
"A standish, steel and golden pen!

It came from Bertrand's, not the skies;

" I gave it you to write again.

But, Friend, take heed whom you attack;

"You'll bring a house (I mean of Peers) "Red, Blue, and Green, nay white and black,

"Land all about your ears.

"You 'd write as smooth again on glass,
"And run, on ivory, fo glib,
"As not to stick at fool or afs,

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Nor.ftop at Flattery or Fib.
"Athenian Queen! and sober charms!
"I tell you, fool, there's nothing in 't:
""Tis Venus, Venus gives these arms;
" In Dryden's Virgil see the print.

"Come, if you'll be a quiet soul,
"That dares tell neither Truth nor Lies,
"I'll lift you in the harmless roll
"Of those that fing of these poor eyes."

EPISTLE EPISTL

TO

E

ROBERT

EARL OF OXFORD,

AND EARL MORTIMER,

SENT to the Earl of Oxford with Dr. Parnell's Poems published by our Author, after the faid Earl's Imprifon. fonment in the Tower, and Retreat into the Country, in the year 1721.

S

UCH were the notes thy once-lov'd Poet sung, Till Death untimely stopp'd his tuneful tongue. Oh just beheld, and lost! admir'd, and mourn'd! With softest manners, gentlest arts adorn'd! Bleft in each science, blest in every strain! Dear to the Muse! to Harley dear-in vain!

5

10

For him, thou oft haft bid the World attend, Fond to forget the statesman in the friend; For Swift and him, despis'd the farce of state, The fober Follies of the wife and great; Dextrous, the craving, fawning crowd to quit, And pleas'd to 'scape from Flattery to Wit. Absent or dead, still let a friend be dear, (A figh the absent claims, the dead a tear) Recall those nights that clos'd thy toilsome days, 15

Still hear thy Parnell in his living lays,
Who, careless now of Interest, Fame, or Fate,

Perhaps forgets that Oxford e'er was great;

Or,

Or, deeming meanest what we greatest call,
Beholds thee glorious only in thy Fall.

And fure, if aught below the feats divine
Can touch Immortals, 'tis a Soul like thine:
A Soul Supreme, in each hard instance try'd,
Above all Pain, and Passion, and all Pride,
The rage of Power, the blast of public breath,
The luft of Lucre, and the dread of Death.
In vain to Deferts thy retreat is made;
The Muse attends thee to thy filent shade:
"Tis her's, the brave man's latest steps to trace,

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Re-judge his acts, and dignify disgrace.

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When Interest calls off all her sneaking train,
And all th' oblig'd defert, and all the vain;
She waits, or to the Scaffold, or the cell,

When the last lingering friend has bid farewell.
Ev'n now, she shades thy Evening-walk with bays 35

(No hireling the, no prostitute to praise);

Ev'n now, observant of the parting ray,
Eyes the calm Sun-fet of thy various Day,
Through Fortune's cloud one truly great can fee,
Nor fears to tell, that MORTIMER is he.

EPISTLE

i

EPISTLE

TO JAMES

CRAGGS, ES

SECRETARY OF STATE IN THE YEAR 1720.

A

Soul as full of Worth, as void of Pride,
Which nothing seeks to fhew, or needs to hide;

Which nor to Guilt, nor Fear, its Caution owes,
And boasts a Warmth that from no Passion flows:

A Face untaught to feign; a judging Eye,

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That darts severe upon a rifing Lie,
And ftrikes a blush through frontless Flattery:
All this thou wert; and being this before,
Know, Kings and Fortune cannot make thee more.
Then scorn to gain a Friend by servile ways,
Nor wish to lose a Foe these Virtues raise;
But candid, free, fincere, as you began,

10

Proceed-a Minister, but still a Man.
Be not (exalted to whate'er degree)
Asham'd of any Friend, not ev'n of Me:
The Patriot's plain, but untrod, path pursue;
If not, 'tis I must be asham'd of You.

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EPISTLE