ON A CERTAIN LADY AT COURT m.
I KNOW the thing that 's most uncommon ;
(Envy be silent, and attend!)
I know a reasonable woman,
Handsome and witty, yet a friend.
Not warp'd by passion, awed by rumour,
Not grave through pride, or gay through folly,
An equal mixture of good humour
And sensible soft melancholy.
"Has she no faults then, (Envy says) Sir?
Yes, she has one, I must aver;
When all the world conspires to praise her,
The woman's deaf, and does not hear.
Oн be thou blest with all that Heaven can send,
Long health, long youth, long pleasure, and a friend :
Not with those toys the female world admire,
Riches that vex, and vanities that tire.
With added years, if life bring nothing new,
But like a sieve let every blessing through,
Some joy still lost, as each vain year runs o'er,
And all we gain, some sad reflection more;
Is that a birth-day? 'tis alas! too clear,
"Tis but the funeral of the former year.
Henrietta, daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, married Charles Howard, younger son of Henry, fifth Earl of Suffolk, whom she accompanied to Hanover, before the death of Queen Anne. She came to England with Caroline, then Electoral Princess, and was made bedchamber-woman to her, when Princess of Wales. This woman was mistress to George II., and afterwards Countess of Suffolk. She is introduced by Walter Scott in his romance of the "Heart of Mid Lothian" as attending on Queen Caroline.
Let joy or ease, let affluence or content,
And the gay conscience of a life well spent,
Calm every thought, inspirit every grace,
Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face.
Let day improve on day, and year on year,
Without a pain, a trouble, or a fear;
Till death unfelt that tender frame destroy,
In some soft dream, or ecstacy of joy,
Peaceful sleep out the sabbath of the tomb,
And wake to raptures in a life to come.
ROXANA, OR THE DRAWING-ROOM.
ROXANA from the court returning late,
Sigh'd her soft sorrow at St. James's gate :
Such heavy thoughts lay brooding in her breast;
Not her own chairmen with more weight opprest:
They curse the cruel weight they 're doomed to bear;
She in more gentle sounds express'd her care.
Was it for this, that I these roses wear?
For this, new-set the jewels for my_hair?
Ah princess! with what zeal have I pursued!
Almost forgot the duty of a prude.
This king, I never could attend too soon;
I miss'd my prayers, to get me dress'd by noon.
For thee, ah! what for thee did I resign?
My passions, pleasures, all that e'er was mine:
I've sacrificed both modesty and ease;
Left operas, and went to filthy plays :
Double-entendres shock'd my tender ear;
Yet even this, for thee, I choose to bear:
In glowing youth, when nature bids be gay,
And every joy of life before me lay;
• Supposed to be meant for the Duchess of Marlborough. The "Princess" was Caroline, then Princess of Wales; and "Cockatilla" Mrs. Howard, the subject of a preceding poem.
P This Eclogue is by some attributed to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.
By honour prompted, and by pride restrain❜d,
The pleasures of the young my soul disdain'd:
Sermons I sought, and with a mien severe,
Censured my neighbours, and said daily prayer.
Alas, how changed! with this same sermon-mien,
The filthy "What-d'ye-call it "-I have seen.
Ah, royal princess! for whose sake I lost
The reputation, which so dear had cost;
I,who avoided every public place,
When bloom and beauty bid me show my face,
Now near thee, constant, I each night abide,
With never-failing duty by my side;
Myself and daughters standing in a row,
To all the foreigners a goodly show.
Oft had your drawing-room been sadly thin,
And merchants' wives close by your side had been ;
Had I not amply fill'd the empty place,
And saved your highness from the dire disgrace:
Yet Cockatilla's artifice prevails,
When all my duty and my merit fails:
That Cockatilla, whose deluding airs
Corrupts our virgins, and our youth ensnares;
So sunk her character, and lost her fame,
Scarce visited, before your highness came ;
Yet for the bed-chamber 'tis she you choose,
Whilst zeal, and fame, and virtue you refuse.
Ah worthy choice; not one of all your train,
Which censures blast not, or dishonours stain.
I know the court, with all its treacherous wiles,
The false caresses, and undoing smiles.
Ah, princess! learn'd in all the courtly arts,
To cheat our hopes, and yet to gain our hearts.
9 A farce by Gay with that title.
The attendants of George I., from Hanover.
WHO CONGRATULATED HIM ON FINISHING HIS HOUSE AND GARDENS.
Ан, friend! 'tis true-this truth you lovers know-
In vain my structures rise, my gardens grow,
In vain fair Thames reflects the double scenes
Of hanging mountains, and of sloping greens :
Joy lives not here, to happier seats it flies,
And only dwells where WORTLEY casts her eyes.
What are the gay parterre, the checquer'd shade,
The morning bower, the evening colonnade,
But soft recesses of uneasy minds,
To sigh unheard in, to the passing winds ?
So the struck deer in some sequester'd part
Lies down to die, the arrow at his heart,
He, stretch'd unseen in coverts hid from day,
Bleeds drop by drop, and pants his life away.
ON THE PICTURE OF LADY MARY W. MONTAGU BY KNELLER.
[From Dallaway's Life of Lady Mary.]
THE playful smiles around the dimpled mouth,
That happy air of majesty and truth;
So would I draw (but oh! 'tis vain to try,
My narrow genius does the power deny)
The equal lustre of the heavenly mind,
Where every grace with every virtue 's join'd;
Learning not vain, and wisdom not severe,
With greatness easy, and with wit sincere;
With just description show the work divine,
And the whole princess in my work should shine.
TO LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU.
IN beauty, or wit,
No mortal as yet
To question your empire has dared;
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning,
To yield to a lady was hard.
Then bravely, fair dame,
Resume the old claim,
Which to your whole sex does belong;
And let men receive,
From a second bright Eve,
The knowledge of right and of wrong.
But if the first Eve
Hard doom did receive,
When only one apple had she,
What a punishment new
Shall be found out for you,
Who tasting, have robb'd the whole tree?
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