Anne Killigrew: Verses about Time

Whose Lord was Travelling.


No sooner I pronounced Celindas name,
But Troops of wing'd Pow'rs did chant the same:
Not those the Poets Bows and Arrows lend,
But such as on the Altar do attend.
Celinda nam'd, Flow'rs spring up from the Ground,
Excited meerly with the Charming Sound.
Celinda, the Courts Glory, and its fear,
The gaz'd at Wonder, where she does appear.
Celinda great in Birth, greater in Meen,
Yet none so humble as this Fair-One's seen.
Her Youth and Beauty justly might disdain,
But the least Pride her Glories ne're did stain.
Celinda of each State th' ambitious Strife,
At once a Noble Virgin, and a Wife

Who, while her Gallant Lord in Forraign parts
Adorns his Youth with all accomplisht Arts,
Grows ripe at home in Vertue, more than Years,
And in each Grace a Miracle appears!

When other of her Age a madding go,
To th' Park and Plays, and ev'ry publick Show,
Proud from their Parents Bondage they have broke,
Though justly freed, she still does wear the Yoke;
Preferring more her Mothers Friend to be,
Than Idol of the Towns Loose-Gallantry.
On her she to the Temple does attend,
Where they their Blessed Hours both save and spend.
They Smile, they Joy, together they do Pray,
You'd think two Bodies did One Soul obey:
Like Angels thus they do reflect their Bliss,
And their bright Vertues each the other kiss.

Return young Lord, while thou abroad dost rome
The World to see, thou loosest Heaven at Home.

Afflicted upon her Son, My Lord Berkeley's Early Engaging in the Sea-Service.

So the renowned Ithacensian Queen
In Tears for her Telemachus was seen,
When leaving Home, he did attempt the Ire
Of rageing Seas, to seek his absent Sire:
Such bitter Sighs her tender Breast did rend;
But had she known a God did him attend,
And would with Glory bring him safe again,
Bright Thoughts would then have dispossess't her Pain.

Ah Noblest Lady! You that her excel
In every Vertue, may in Prudence well
Suspend your Care; knowing what power befriends
Your Hopes, and what on Vertue still attends.

In bloody Conflicts he will Armour find,
In strongest Tempests he will rule the Wind,
He will through Thousand Dangers force a way,
And still Triumphant will his Charge convey.
And the All-ruling power that can act thus,
Will safe return your Dear Telemachus.

Alas, he was not born to live in Peace,
Souls of his Temper were not made for Ease,
Th' Ignoble only live secure from Harms,
The Generous tempt, and seek out fierce Alarms.
Huge Labours were for Hercules design'd,
Jason, to fetch the Golden Fleece, enjoyn'd,
The Minotaure by Noble Theseus dy'd,
In vain were Valour, if it were not try'd,
Should the admir'd and far-sought Diamond lye,
As in its Bed, unpolisht to the Eye,
It would be slighted like a common stone,
It's Value would be small, its Glory none.
But when't has pass'd the Wheel and Cutters hand,
Then it is meet in Monarchs Crowns to stand.

Upon the Noble Object of your Care
Heaven has bestow'd, of Worth, so large a share,
That unastonisht none can him behold,
Or credit all the Wonders of him told!
When others, at his Years were turning o're,
The Acts of Heroes that had liv'd before,
Their Valour to excite, when time should fit,
He then did Things, were Worthy to be writ!
Stayd not for Time, his Courage that out-ran
In Actions, far before in Years, a Man.
Two French Campagnes he boldly courted Fame,
While his Face more the Maid, than Youth became
Adde then to these a Soul so truly Mild,
Though more than Man, Obedient as a Child.
And (ah) should one Small Isle all these confine,
Vertues created through the World to shine?
Heaven that forbids, and Madam so should you;
Remember he but bravely does pursue
His Noble Fathers steps; with your own Hand
Then Gird his Armour on, like him he'll stand,
His Countries Champion, and Worthy be
Of your High Vertue, and his Memory.

As those who pass the Alps do say,
The Rocks which first oppose their way,
And so amazing-High do show,
By fresh Ascents appear but low,
And when they come unto the last,
They scorn the dwarfish Hills th' ave past.

So though my Muse at her first flight,
Thought she had chose the greatest height,
And (imp'd with Alexander's Name)
Believ'd there was no further Fame:
Behold an Eye wholly Divine
Vouchsaf'd upon my Verse to Shine!
And from that time I'gan to treat
With Pitty him the World call'd Great;
To smile at his exalted Fate,
Unequal (though Gigantick) State.

I saw that Pitch was not sublime,
Compar'd with this which now I climb;
His Glories sunk, and were unseen,
When once appear'd the Heav'n-born Queen:
Victories, Laurels, Conquer'd Kings,
Took place among inferiour things.

Now surely I shall reach the Clouds,
For none besides such Vertue shrouds:
Having scal'd this with holy Strains,
Nought higher but the Heaven remains!
No more I'll Praise on them bestow,
Who to ill Deeds their Glories owe;
Who build their Babels of Renown,
Upon the poor oppressed Crown,
Whole Kingdoms do depopulate,
To raise a Proud and short-Liv'd State:
I prize no more such Frantick Might,
Than his that did with Wind-Mills Fight:
No, give me Prowess, that with Charms
Of Grace and Goodness, not with Harms,

Erects a Throne i'th' inward Parts,
And Rules mens Wills, but with their Hearts;
Who with Piety and Vertue thus
Propitiates God, and Conquers us.
O that now like Araunah here,
Altars of Praises I could rear,
Suiting her worth, which might be seen
Like a Queens Present, to a Queen!

‘Alone she stands for Vertues Cause,
‘When all decry, upholds her Laws:
‘When to Banish her is the Strife,
‘Keeps her unexil'd in her Life;
‘Guarding her matchless Innocence
‘From Storms of boldest Impudence;
‘In spight of all the Scoffs and Rage,
‘And Persecutions of the Age,
‘Owns Vertues Altar, feeds the Flame,
‘Adores her much-derided Name;
‘While impiously her hands they tie,
‘Loves her in her Captivity;

‘Like Perseus saves her, when she stands
‘Expos'd to the Leviathans.
‘So did bright Lamps once live in Urns,
‘So Camphire in the water burns,
‘So Ætna's Flames do ne'er go out,
‘Though Snows do freeze its head without.

How dares bold Vice unmasked walk,
And like a Giant proudly stalk?
When Vertue's so exalted seen,
Arm'd and Triumphant in the Queen?
How dares its Ulcerous Face appear,
When Heavenly Beauty is so near?
But so when God was close at hand,
And the bright Cloud did threatning stand
(In fight of Israel) on the Tent,
They on in their Rebellion went.

O that I once so happy were,
To find a nearer Shelter there!
Till then poor Dove, I wandering fly
Between the Deluge and the Skie:

Till then I Mourn, but do not sing,
And oft shall plunge my wearied wing:
If her bless'd hand vouchsafe the Grace,
I'th' Ark with her to give a place,
I safe from danger shall be found,
When Vice and Folly others drown'd.

Dissolved by EUDORA.
Not that thy Fair Hand
Should lead me from my deep Dispaire,
Or thy Love, Cloris, End my Care,
And back my Steps command :
But if hereafter thou Retire,
To quench with Tears, thy Wandring Fire,
This Clue I'll leave behinde,
By which thou maist untwine
The Saddest Way,
To shun the Day,
That ever Grief did find.

First take thy Hapless Way
Along the Rocky Northern Shore,
Infamous for the Matchless Store
Of Wracks within that Bay.
None o're the Cursed Beach e're crost,
Unless the Robb'd, the Wrack'd, or Lost
Where on the Strand lye spread,
The Sculls of many Dead.
Their mingl'd Bones,
Among the Stones,
Thy Wretched Feet must tread.
The Trees along the Coast,
Stretch forth to Heaven their blasted Arms,
As if they plaind the North-winds harms,
And Youthful Verdure lost.
There stands a Grove of Fatal Ewe,
Where Sun nere pierc't, nor Wind ere blew.
In it a Brooke doth fleet,
The Noise must guide thy Feet,

For there's no Light,
But all is Night,
And Darkness that you meet.
Follow th' Infernal Wave,
Until it spread into a Floud,
Poysoning the Creatures of the Wood,
There twice a day a Slave,
I know not for what Impious Thing,
Bears thence the Liquor of that Spring.
It adds to the sad Place,
To hear how at each Pace,
He curses God,
Himself, his Load,
For such his Forlorn Case.
Next make no Noyse, nor talk,
Until th' art past a Narrow Glade,
Where Light does only break the Shade;
'Tis a Murderers Walk.
Observing this thou need'st not fear,
He sleeps the Day or Wakes elsewhere.

Though there's no Clock or Chime,
The Hour he did his Crime,
His Soul awakes,
His Conscience quakes
And warns him that's the Time.
Thy Steps must next advance,
Where Horrour, Sin, and Spectars dwell,
Where the Woods Shade seems turn'd Hell,
Witches here Nightly Dance,
And Sprights joyn with them when they call,
The Murderer dares not view the Ball.
For Snakes and Toads conspire,
To make them up a Quire.
And for their Light,
And Torches bright,
The Fiends dance all on fire.
Press on till thou descrie
Among the Trees sad, gastly, wan,
Thinne as the Shadow of a Man,
One that does ever crie,

She is not; and she ne're will be,
Despair and Death come swallow me,
Leave him; and keep thy way,
No more thou now canst stray
Thy Feet do stand,
In Sorrows Land,
It's Kingdomes every way.
Here Gloomy Light will shew
Reard like a Castle to the Skie,
A Horrid Cliffe there standing nigh
Shading a Creek below.
In which Recess there lies a Cave,
Dreadful as Hell, still as the Grave.
Sea-Monsters there abide,
The coming of the Tide,
No Noise is near,
To make them fear,
God-sleep might there reside.

But when the Boysterous Seas,
With Roaring Waves resumes this Cell,
You'd swear the Thunders there did dwell.
So lowd he makes his Plea;
So Tempests bellow under ground,
And Ecchos multiply the Sound!
This is the place I chose,
Changeable like my Woes,
Now calmly Sad,
Then Raging Mad,
As move my Bitter Throwes.
Such Dread besets this Part,
That all the Horrour thou hast past,
Are but Degrees to This at last.
The sight must break thy Heart :
Here Bats and Owles that hate the Light
Fly and enjoy Eternal Night.
Scales of Serpents, Fish-bones,
Th' Adders Eye, and Toad-stones,
Are all the Light,
Hath blest my Sight,
Since first began my Groans.

When thus I lost the Sense,
Of all the heathful World calls Bliss,
And held it Joy, those Joys to miss,
When Beauty was Offence :
Celestial Strains did read the Aire,
Shaking these Mansions of Despaire;
A Form Divine and bright,
Stroke Day through all that Night
As when Heav'ns Queen
In Hell was seen,
With wonder and affright!
The Monsters fled for fear,
The Terrors of the Cursed Wood
Dismantl'd were, and where they stood,
No longer did appear.
The Gentle Pow'r, which wrought this thing,
Eudora was, who thus did sing.
Dissolv'd is Cloris spell,
From whence thy Evils fell,
Send her this Clue,
'Tis there most due
And thy Phantastick Hell.

Melibæus, Alcippe, Asteria, Licida, Alcimedon, and Amira.
Melibæus. Welcome fair Nymphs, most welcome to this shade,
Distemp'ring Heats do now the Plains invade:
But you may sit, from Sun securely here,
If you an old mans company not fear.

Alcippe. Most Reverend Swaine, far from us ever be
The imputation of such Vanity.
From Hill to Holt w'ave thee unweary'd sought,
And bless the Chance that us hath hither brought.

Asteria. Fam'd Melibæus for thy Virtuous Lays,
If thou dost not disdain our Female Praise,
We come to sue thou would'st to us recite
One of thy Songs, which gives such high delight
To ev'ry Eare, wherein thou dost dispense
Sage Precepts cloath'd in flowing Eloquence.

Licida. Fresh Garlands we will make for thee each morne,
Thy reverend Head to shade, and to adorne;
To cooling Springs thy fainting Flock we'll guide,
All thou command'st, to do shall be our Pride.

Meli. Cease, gentle Nymphs, the Willing to entreat,
To have your Wish, each needs but take a Seat.
With joy I shall my ancient Art revive,
With which, when Young, I did for Glory strive.
Nor for my Verse will I accept a Hire,
Your bare Attentions all I shall require.

Alci. Lo, from the Plain I see draw near a Pair
That I could wish in our Converse might share.
Amira 'tis and young Alcimedon.

Lici. Serious Discourse industriously they shun.

Alci.
It being yet their luck to come this way,
The Fond Ones to our Lecture we'll betray:
And though they only sought a private shade,
Perhaps they may depart more Vertuous made.

I will accost them. Gentle Nymph and Swaine,
Good Melibæus us doth entertain
With Lays Divine: if you'll his Hearers be,
Take streight your Seats without Apology.

Alci. Paying short thanks, at fair Amiras feet,
I'le lay me down: let her choose where 'tis meet.

Al. Shepherd, behold, we all attentive sit.

Meli.
What shall I sing? what shall my Muse reherse?
Love is a Theme well sutes a Past'ral Verse,
That gen'ral Error, Universal Ill,
That Darling of our Weakness and our Will;
By which though many fall, few hold it shame;
Smile at the Fault, which they would seem to blame.
What wonder then, if those with Mischief play,
It to destruction them doth oft betray?

But by experience it is daily found,
That Love the softer Sex does sorest wound;
In Mind, as well as Body, far more weak
Than Men: therefore to them my Song shall speak,
Advising well, however it succeed:
But unto All I say, Of Love take heed.
So hazardous, because so hard to know
On whom they are we do our Hearts bestow;
How they will use them, or with what regard
Our Faith and high Esteem they will reward:

For few are found, that truly acted be
By Principles of Generosity.
That when they know a Virgins Heart they've gain'd,
(And though by many Vows and Arts obtain'd)
Will think themselves oblig'd their Faith to hold
Tempted by Friends, by Interest, or by Gold.
Expect it not most, Love their Pastime make,
Lightly they Like, and lightly they forsake;
Their Roving Humour wants but a pretence
With Oaths and what's most Sacred to dispence.

When unto such a Maid has given her Heart,
And said, Alone my Happiness thou art,
In thee and in thy Truth I place my Rest.
Her sad Surprize how can it be exprest,
When all on which she built her Joy she finds,
Vanish, like Clouds, disperst before the Winds;
Her self, who th' adored Idol wont to be,
A poor despis'd Idolater to see?
Regardless Tears she may profusely spend,
Unpitty'd sighs her tender Breast may rend:
But the false Image she will ne're erace,
Though far unworthy still to hold its place:

So hard it is, even Wiser grown, to take
Th' Impression out, which Fancy once did make.
Believe me Nymphs, believe my hoary hairs,
Truth and Experience waits on many years.

Before the Eldest of you Light beheld,
A Nymph we had, in Beauty all excell'd,
Rodanthe call'd, in whom each Grace did shine,
Could make a Mortal Maid appear Divine.
And none could say, where most her Charms did lye,
In her inchanting Tongue, or conquering Eye.
Her Vertue yet her Beauties so out-shon,
As Beauty did the Garments she put on!

Among the Swains, which here their Flocks then fed,
Alcander with the highest held his head;
The most Accomplish't was esteem'd to be,
Of comely Forme, well-grac't Activity;
The Muses too, like him, did none inspire,
None so did stop the Pipe, or touch the Lyre;
Sweet was his Voice, and Eloquent his Tongue;
Alike admired when he Spoke, or Sung!
But these so much Excelling parts the Swain,
With Imperfections no less Great, did stain:

For proud he was, of an Ungovern'd Will,
With Love Familiar, but a Stranger still
To Faith and Constancy; and did his Heart,
Retaining none, expose to ev'ry Dart.
Hapless Rodanthe, the Fond Rover, caught,
To whom, for Love, with usual Arts he sought;
Which she, ah too unwary, did bestow:
'Cause True her self, believ'd that he was so.
But he, alas, more wav'ring than the Wind,
Streight broke the Chain, she thought so fast did bind;
For he no sooner saw her Heart was gain'd,
But he as soon the Victory disdain'd;
Mad Love else-where, as if 'twere like Renown,
Hearts to subdue, as to take in a Town:
But in the One as Manhood does prevail,
Both Truth and Manhood in the other fail.
And now the Nymph (of late so gay and bright,
The Glory of the Plains and the Delight,
Who still in Wit and Mirth all Pastimes led)
Hung like a wither'd Flow'r her drooping Head.

I need not tell the Grief Rodanthe found,
How all that should asswage, enrag'd her Wound;

Her Form, her Fame, her Vertue, Riches, Wit,
Like Deaths sad Weights upon her Soul did sit:
Or else like Furies stood before her Face,
Still urging and Upbraiding her Disgrace,
In that the World could yield her no Content,
But what alone the False Alcander sent.
'Twas said, through just Disdain, at last she broke
The Disingenious and Unworthy Yoke:
But this I know, her Passion held long time,
Constancy, though Unhappy, is no Crime.

Remember when you Love, from that same hour
Your Peace you put into your Lovers Power:
From that same hour from him you Laws receive,
And as he shall ordain, you Joy, or Grieve,
Hope, Fear, Laugh, Weep; Reason aloof does stand,
Disabl'd both to Act, and to Command.
Oh Cruel Fetters! rather wish to feel,
On your soft Limbs, the Gauling Weight of Steel;
Rather to bloudy Wounds oppose your Breast
No Ill, by which the Body can be prest;
You will so sensible a Torment find,
As Shackles on your captivated Mind.

The Mind from Heaven its high Descent did draw,
And brooks uneasily any other Law,
Than what from Reason dictated shall be,
Reason, a kind of In-mate Deity.
Which only can adapt to ev'ry Soul
A Yoke so fit and light, that the Controle
All Liberty excels; so sweet a Sway,
The same 'tis to be Happy, and Obey;
Commands so Wise and with Rewards so drest
That the according Soul replys, I'm Blest.
This teaches rightly how to Love and Hate,
To fear and hope by Measure and just Weight;
What Tears in Grief ought from our Eyes to flow,
What Transport in Felicity to show;
In ev'ry Passion how to steer the Will,
Tho rude the Shock, to keep it steady still.
Oh happy Mind! what words, can speak thy Bliss,
When in a Harmony thou mov'st like this?

Your Hearts fair Virgins keep smooth as your Brow,
Not the least Am'rous Passion there allow;
Hold not a Parly with what may betray
Your inward Freedom to a Forraign Sway;

And while thus ore your selves you Queens remain,
Unenvy'd, ore the World, let others reign:
The highest Joy which from Dominion flows,
Is short of what a Mind well-govern'd knows.

Whither my Muse, would'st uncontrouled run?
Contend in Motion with the restless Sun?
Immortal thou, but I a mortal Sire
Exhaust my strength, and Hearers also tire.

Al. O Heaven-taught Bard! to Ages couldst prolong
Thy Soul-instructing, Health-infusing Song,
I with unweary'd Appetite could hear,
And wish my Senses were turn'd all to Ear.

Alcim. Old Man, thy frosty Precepts well betray
Thy Blood is cold, and that thy Head is grey:
Who past the Pleasure Love and Youth can give,
To spoyl't in others, now dost only live.
Wouldst thou, indeed, if so thou couldst perswade,
The Fair, whose Charms have many Lovers made,
Should feel Compassion for no one they wound,
But be to all Inexorable found?

Me. Young man, if my advice thou well hadst weigh'd,
Thou would'st have found, for either Sex 'twas made;

And would from Womens Beauty thee no less
Preserve, than them secure from thy Address.
But let thy Youth thy rash Reproach excuse.

Alci. Fairest Amira let him not abuse
Thy gentle Heart, by his imprinting there
His doting Maxims—But I will not fear:
For when 'gainst Love he fiercest did inveigh,
Methoughts I saw thee turn with Scorn away.

Ami. Alcimedon according to his Will
Does all my Words and Looks interpret still:
But I shall learn at length how to Disdain,
Or at the least more cunningly to feign.

Alci. No wonder thou Alcimedon art rude,
When with no Gen'rous Quality endu'd:
But hop'st by railing Words Vice to defend,
Which Foulers made, by having such a Friend.

Amira, thou art warn'd, wisely beware,
Leap not with Open-Eyes into the Snare:
The Faith that's given to thee, was given before
To Nais, Amoret, and many more:
The Perjur'd did the Gods to Witness call,
That unto each he was the only Thrall.

Aste. Y'ave made his Cheeks with Conscious blushes glow.

Alci. 'Tis the best Colour a False Heart can show;
And well it is with Guilt some shame remains.

Meli. Hast, Shepherd, hast to cleanse away thy stains,
Let not thy Youth, of Time the goodly spring,
Neglected pass, that nothing forth it bring
But noxious Weeds: which cultivated might
Produce such Crops, as now would thee delight,
And give thee after Fame For Vertues Fruit
Believe it, not alone with Age does sute,
Nought adorns Youth like to a Noble Mind,
In thee this Union let Amira find.

Lici. O fear her not! she'l serve him in his kind.

Meli. See how Discourse upon the Time does prey,
Those hours pass swiftest, that we talk away.
Declining Sol forsaken hath the Fields,
And Mountains highest Summits only gildes:
Which warns us home-wards with our Flocks to make.

Alci. Along with thee our Thanks and Praises take.

Aste. In which our Hearts do all in One unite,

Lici. Our Wishes too, That on thy Head may light,
What e're the Gods as their Best Gifts bestow.

Meli. Kind Nymphs on you may Equal Blessings flow.