ELEGY

TO THE MEMORY OF

AN UNFORTUNATE LADY*.

WHAT
HAT beck'ning ghoft, along the moon-light shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
'Tis fhe!-but why that bleeding bofom gor'd,
Why dimly gleams the vifionary fword!

NOTES.

Oh

* See the Duke of Buckingham's Verfes to a Lady defigning to retire into a Monaftery, compared with Mr. Pope's Letters to feveral Ladies, p. 206. quarto Edition. She feems to be the fame person whose unfortunate death is the fubject of this poem.

VER. 1. What beck'ning ghoft,]

"What gentle ghoft befprent with April dew,
Hails me fo folemnly to yonder yew ?

And beck'ning wooes me?".

РОРЕ.

BEN JOHNSON.

The cruelties of her relations, the defolation of the family, the being deprived of the rites of fepulture, the circumstance of dying in a country remote from her relations, are all touched with great tenderness and pathos, particularly the four lines from the 51ft:

By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd; Which lines may remind one of that exquisite stroke in the Philoctetes of Sophocles, who, among other afflicting circumstances, had not near him any culgopov opa. ver. 171. The true caufe of the excellence of this Elegy is, that the occafion of it was real ; fo true is the maxim, that nature is more powerful than fancy; and

Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell,

Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To act a Lover's or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reverfion in the sky,
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?

Why bade ye elfe, ye Pow'rs! her foul afpire
Above the vulgar flight of low defire?
Ambition first sprung from your bleft abodes;
The glorious fault of Angels and of Gods :
Thence to their images on earth it flows,
And in the breafts of Kings and Heroes glows.
Moft fouls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age,
Dull fullen pris'ners in the body's cage:
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years
Useless, unfeen, as lamps in fepulchres;

NOTES.

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Like

and that we can always feel more than we can imagine; and that the most artful fiction must give way to truth, for this Lady was beloved by Pope. After many and wide enquiries, I have been informed that her name was Wainfbury; and that (which is a fingular circumftance) fhe was as ill-fhaped and deformed as our author. Her death was not by a fword, but, what would less bear to be told poetically, he hanged berfelf. Johnson has too feverely cenfured this Elegy, when he fays, "that it has drawn much attention by the illaudable fingularity, of treating suicide with respect;" and, "that poetry has not often been worse employed, than in dignifying the amorous fury of a raving girl.” She feems to have been driven to this defperate act by the violence and cruelty of her uncle and guardian, who forced her to a convent abroad; and to which circumftance Pope alludes in one of his letters. WARTON,

VER. 6. to love too well?] Steevens quotes Crafhaw, "To love too well." It is furely an expreffion fufficiently common.

Like Eastern Kings a lazy state they keep,
And, close confin'd to their own palace, fleep.
From these perhaps (ere nature bade her die)
Fate fnatch'd her early to the pitying fky.
As into air the purer fpirits flow,

And fep'rate from their kindred dregs below;
So flew the foul to its congenial place,

Nor left one virtue to redeem her Race.

But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good,
Thou, mean deferter of thy brother's blood!
See on these ruby lips the trembling breath,

These cheeks now fading at the blast of death;
Cold is that breaft which warm'd the world before,
And thofe love-darting eyes must roll no more.
Thus, if eternal justice rules the ball,

Thus fhall your wives, and thus your children fall:
On all the line a fudden vengeance waits,
And frequent herfes fhall befiege your gates;
There paffengers fhall ftand, and pointing fay,
(While the long fun'rals blacken all the way)
Lo! these were they, whofe fouls the Furies fteel'd,
And curs'd with hearts unknowing how to yield.
Thus unlamented pass the proud away,

The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day!

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So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow 45 For others good, or melt at others woe.

NOTES.

VER. 41. Lo! thefe were they,] Iliad. ix. 749.
"The gods that unrelenting mind have steel'd,
And curs'd thee with a mind that cannot yield."

That

What can atone (oh ever-injur'd shade!) Thy fate unpity'd, and thy rites unpaid? No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear Pleas'd thy pale ghost, or grac'd thy mournful bier,

By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd,

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By foreign hands thy decent limbs compos'd,

By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,

By flangers honour'd, and by ftrangers mourn'd! What tho' no friends in fable weeds appear,

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Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year,
And bear about the mockery of woe

To midnight dances, and the public show?
What tho' no weeping Loves thy afhes grace,
Nor polish'd marble emulate thy face?

NOTES.

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What

VER. 59. What tho' no weeping Loves, &c.] This beautiful little Elegy had gained the unanimous admiration of all men of tafte. When a Critic comes-But hold; to give his observation fair play, let us first analize the Poem. The Ghost of the injured perfon appears to excite the Poet to revenge her wrongs. He defcribes her Character-execrates the author of her misfortunes— expatiates on the feverity of her fate-the rites of fepulture denied her in a foreign land: Then follows,

"What tho' no weeping Loves thy afhes grace," &c.

"Yet fhall thy grave with rifing flowers be dreft," &c. Can any thing be more naturally pathetic? Yet the Critic tells us, He can give no quarter to this part of the poem, which is eminently, he fays, discordant with the subject, and not the language of the heart. But when he tells us, That it is to be afcribed to imitation, copying indifcreetly what has been faid by others, [Elements of Crit. vol. ii. p. 182.3 his Criticifm begins to fmell furioufly of old John Dennis. Well might our Poet's laft with be, to commit his writings to the candour of a fenfible and reflecting judge, rather than to the malice of every fhort-fighted and malevolent critic." WARBURTON.