Poems by the Most Eminent Ladies

of Great Britain and Ireland

Selected, with an Account of the Writers, by

G. Colman and B. Thornton

Edited by Roxanne Kent-Drury
Northern Kentucky University
2003-


Note on this edition:

This text was prepared by Northern Kentucky University students under the direction of Dr. Roxanne Kent-Drury from March 2003-    from the 1773 edition. Spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and typography have been retained except for obvious typographical errors and typographical symbols not readily available in html (e.g., long "s" has been replaced by "s" throughout). The feel of the original has been retained wherever possible; however, separator bars do not match those in the text. Additions are provided in boldface brackets e.g., page numbers, hyperlinks, etc.). The text is in the public domain; markup is copyright © Northern Kentucky University, 2003-     . Additions, emendations, or commments to: rkdrury@nku.edu.


P  O  E  M  S

BY THE MOST

EMINENT LADIES

O  F

GREAT-BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

PARTICULARLY,


 
 
Mrs. BARBER,
Mrs. BEHN,
Miss CARTER,
Lady CHUDLEIGH,
Mrs. COCKBURN,
Mrs. GRIERSON,
Mrs. JONES,
Mrs. KILLIGREW,
Mrs. LEAPOR,
Mrs. MADAN,
Mrs. MASTERS
Lady M. W. MONTAGUE,
Mrs. MONK,
Dutchess of NEWCASTLE
Mrs. K. PHILIPS,
Mrs. PILKINGTON,
Mrs. ROWE ,
Lady WINCHELSEA

Selected, with an Account of the Writers, by

G. COLMAN and B. THORNTON, Esqrs.

We allow'd you Beauty, and we did submit
To all the Tyrannies of it,
Ah, cruel Sex! will you depose us too in Wit?
                                                             Cowley. 

         A NEW EDITION.

VOL.  II.

L  O  N  D  O  N  :

PRINTED FOR T. BECKET AND CO. AND 
T. EVANS, AT NO. 50, NEAR YORK-
BUILDINGS, STRAND.

M DCC LXXIII


[iii]

C O N T E N T S

OF THE


S E C O N D   V O L U M E


Mrs. K I L L I G R E W.   Page
THE Complaint of a Lover 3
Love, the soul of Poetry
5
St. John Baptist, painted by herself in the Wildnerness
6
Herodia's Daughter presenting to her Mother St. John's Head in a charger, also painted by herself

7
Upon saying that my verses were made by another
ib.
The Discontent
9
Epitaph on herself
14
Extemporary Counsel to a Young Gallant in a frolick
ib.

Mrs. L E A P O R
Dorinda, at her glass
17
Mira's Will
22
A Summer's Wish
23
Colinetta
24
The Month of August. Damon, a Courtier, Phillis, a Country-Maid
27
Epistle to a Lady
30
The Proclamation of Apollo
33
The Fall of Lucia
37


[iv]

The Crucifixion and Resurrection. An Ode 39
Essay on Happiness 40
Essay on Hope
44
A Prayer for the year 1745
48
Essay on Friendship
50
The Mistaken Lover
54
The Way of the World
60
Strephon to Celia. A modern Love-Letter
65
The Inspired Quill. Occasioned by a present of Crow-Pens
67
On Mr. Pope's Universal Prayer
72
The Libyan Hunter. A Fable. Inscribed to the memory of a late admired author
74
The Temple of Love. A Dream
80
Advice to Mirtillo
83
The Sacrifice. An Epistle to Celia
85
The Power of Beauty
87
Job's Curse, and his Appeal. Taken out of Job, chap. i, and xxxi
89
Winter
93
To a Gentleman with a manuscript play
94
Silvia and the Bee
96
The Cruel Parent. A Dream
98
Mopsus: or, The Castle-Builder
103
Advice to Sophronia
122
Corydon, Phillario. Or, Mira's Picture. A Pastoral
123
Crumble-Hall
126
Upon her Play being returned to her, stained with claret
133

Mrs. M A D A N

Abelard to Eloisa
137
Verses written in her brother's Coke upon Littleton
141


[v]

Mrs. M A S T E R S

Defence of Myrtillo
147
Psalm xxxix
149
To Lucinda
151
Psalm xxxvii. Inscribed to an injured friend
152

Lady  M.  W.  M O N T A G U E.


Town Eclogues. Monday, Roxana, or the Drawing-Room
159
Tuesday. St. James Coffee-House. Silliander and Patch
162
Wednesday. The Te(te( à Te(te(. Dancinda
165
Saturday. The Small-Pox. Flavia
169
Epistle from Arthur Grey, a footman after his condemnation for attempting a rape
172
The Lover. A Ballad. To Mr. C----------------
176
The Lady's Resolve, written extempore on a window
178
The Gentleman's Answer
ib.
An Apistle to Lord B--------t
179
Epilogue to Mary Queen of Scots. Designed to be spoken by Mrs. Oldfield
182
Rreceipt for the Vapours. Written to Lady J-------n
183

Mrs.  M O N K

On Providence. From Filicaia
187
On the Invention of Letters. From Brebeuf
188
Sonetto. From Petrarch
ib.
Sonetto. From Monsignor Della Casa
189
Sonetto. From Marini
190
From Tasso's Jerusalem. Lib. xvi. Sta. xiv
ib.
A Tale
191
Epigram
192


[vii

On a Romantick Lady
ib.
Epitaph on a Gallant Lady
193
Orpheus and Eurydice. From the Spanish of Quevedo
ib.
Song
194
Epigram. To Cloe
195
Verses wrote on her death-bed at Bath, to her husband in London
ib.

Dutchess of  N E W C A S T L E
Mirth and Melancholy
199
Dialogue betwixt Peace and War
203
Wherein Poetry chiefly consists
205
Nature's Cook
206
Wit
207
The Pastime and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies in Fairyland, the centre of the earth
208
The Pastime of the Queen of Fairies, when she comes on the earth out of the centre 210

Mrs.  K A T H.  P H I L I P S.

Content. To my dearest Lucasia
215
To the Queen of Inconstancy, Regina Collier, in Antwerp
218
Against Pleasure. An Ode
219
The Enquiry
220
A Country Life
222
To Lady Elizabeth Boyle, singing a song, of which Orinda was the author
226
On the Welch Language
227
The Virgin 229
Against Love
230
To my Antenor, March 16, 1660-1
ib.
Tendres Desirs. From French Prose
232



[vii]

The Petition of the Birds to Mr. Pilkington, on his return from shooting
235
Delville, the seat of the Rev. Dr. Delany
236
To the Rev. Dr. Swift, on his birth-day
238
The Statues: or, The Trial of Constancy. A Tale for the Ladies
239
Carte Blanche
247
Sent with a Quill to Dr. Swift, on hearing he had received a book and stand-dish
ib.
Ode in imitation of Horace
248
Memory
249
Advice to the People of Dublin in their choice of a Recorder
251
To Strephon. written for a Lady to her Lover
ib.
Queen Mab to Pollio
252
The Seventh Ode of the Third Book of Horace paraphrased. Written in the absence of her husband

253
Consolatory Verses to her husband
254
Sorrow
255
Song
257
Song
258
Expostulation. Written in distress
ib.
To the Rev. Dr. Hales
260
To Mr. Cibber. On his asking for something entirely new
263
To the Hon. Col. D--nc--be
264
To his Grace the Lord Archbishop of York
265
Epilogue to Virtue Triumphant
267
Written on her death-bed
268


[x]

Mrs. R O W E.

In praise of Memory. Inscribed to the Hon. Lady Worseley
271
Hymn to the Deity
272
Hymn on the Sacrament
273
Dialgoeu between the Fallen Angels and a Human Spirit just entered into the other world
274
Despair
277
Revelation. Chap. xvi.
279
Hymn of Thanks on my recovery from the Small-Pox
280
On the death of Mr. Thomas Rowe
281

Lady  W I N C H E L S E A.

The Brass Pot and Stone Jugg. A Fable
287
There's No To-Morrow. A Fable. Imitated from Sir Roger L'Estrange
289
The Spleen. A Pindarick Poem
290
The Atheist and the Acorn
296
The Young Rat and his Dam, the Cock and the Cat
297
To Mr. Finch, now Earl of Winchelsea; when abroad. Written in the year 1689
300
The Eagle, the Sow, and the Cat
304
Love, Death, and Reputation
307
The Decision of Fortune. A Fable
308
The Hog, the Sheep, and Goat, carrying to a fair
311
Cupid and Folly. Imitated from the French
312
To Lady Winchelsea, occasioned by some verses in the Rape of the Lock. By Mr. Pope 314
Answer to the foregoing verses
ib.
[hyperlink to Volume I Contents]







P  O  E  M  S



B Y



Mrs. A N N E   K I L L I G R E W






[1]




Mrs.  A N N E   K I L L I G R E W,

DAUGHTER of Henry Killigrew, Master of the Savoy, and one of the Prendaries of Westminster, was born in London a short time before the Restoration of King Charlesthe Second.
    Her superior genius being improved by a polite education, she made a great proficiency in the arts of Poetry and Painting: and had it pleased Providence to have prolonged her life, she might probably have rivalled the greatest masters in each. She drew a portrait of King James the Second and his Queen; which pieces, as well as her poetry, are highly applauded by Mr. Dryden. She also drew several other pieces, and the reader will here find that she sometimes employed her quill and her pencil on the same subject.
    But this Lady's virtues were not inferior to her genius, and recommended her as Maid of Honour to the Dutchess of York. She died of the Small-Pox in her 25th year, and was buried in St. John Baptist's Chapel in the Savoy Hospital. Her death was lamented in a long ode by Mr. Dryden, whence I shall transcribe three lines, as they also do honour to another female character.

    But thus Orinda died.
    Heav'n, by the same disease, did both translate,

    As equal were their souls, so equal was their fate.




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P  O  E  M  S



B Y



Mrs.  M A R Y   L E A P O R





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Mrs.  M A R Y   L E A P O R

Was born at Marston St. Lawrence, in Northamptonshire, in the year 1722; whence she removed with her father, a gardener, to Brackley in the same county, where she resided the remainder of her life.
    Mrs. Leapor from he childhood delighted in reading, and particularly Poetry, but had few opportunities of procuring any books of that kind: her whole library consisted of sixteen or seventeen odd volumes, among which were part of the works of Mr. Pope, her greatest favourite, Dryden's fables, some volumes of plays, &c.
    Her person was indeed plain, but the reader must not form an idea of it from the poem call'd Mira's Picture, for though she was there made very free with herself, yet her appearance was by no means disagreeable. The poem was occasioned by her hearing that a gentleman, who had seen some of her verses, dseired to know what her person was.
    The reader will be still more surprised at the excellene of her writings, when he is informed that her death, which was occasioned by the measles, happened so early as her 24th year.
 

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M I R A ' s   W I L L

IMPRIMUS – My departed shade I trust
To heav’n – My body to the silent dust;
My name to publick censure I submit
To be dispos’d of as the world thinks fit;
My vice and folly let oblivion close,
The world already is o’erstock’d with those;
My wit I give, as misers give their store,
To those who think they had enough before.
Bestow my patience to compose the lives
Of slighted virgins and neglected wives;
To modish lovers I resign my truth,
My cool reflection to unthinking youth;
And some good nature give (‘tis my desire)
To surly husbands, as their needs require;
And first discharge my funeral–and then
To the small poets I bequeath my pen.
       Let a small sprig (true emblem of my rhyme)
Of blasted laurel on my hearse recline;
Let some grave wight, that struggles for renown,
By chanting dirges through a market-town,
With gentle step precede the solemn train;
A broken flute upon his arm shall lean.
Six comic poets may the corse surround,
And all freeholders; if they can be found:
Then follow next the melancholy throng,
As shrewd instructors, who themselves are wrong.



 [23]

The virtuoso, rich in sun-dry’d weeds,
The politician, whom no mortal heeds,
The silent lawyer, chamber’d all the day,
And the stern soldier that receives no pay.
But stay – the mourners shou’d be first our care,
Let the freed prentice lead the miser’s heir;
And the young relict wipe her mournful eye,
And widow’d husbands o’er their garlick cry.
      All this let my executors fulfil,
And rest assur’d that this is Mira’s will;
Who was, when she these legacies design’d,
In body healthy, and compos’d in mind.

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WHAT means the reeling earth? O why
These wonders in the dreadful sky?
    The frighted sun withdraws its beams,[1]
Deep groans are heard and doleful screams.
O say, what this convulsion means:
Afflicted nature with a shriek replies,
A God expires, a mighty SavioUr dies.

The conscious stars their rays deny,
The moon receives a crimson dye,
The temple, conscious of its fall,
Now shakes its emblematic wall. [2]
The ocean stagnates, and the mountains bow,
And angels weep that never wept till now.

Still tremble, earth, and still, O sky,
Thy ever-cheering lamps deny:
Amaz’d still let the ocean stand,
But what remains for guilty man?
What groans? What sorrows are for him decreed?
For man, whose crimes have made perfection bleed?[3]


 [40]

But see, O see, the sun returns!
No more afflicted nature mourns!
The stars their vacant orbs regain!
And the moon sheds a silver beam!
While heav’nly voices warble in the skies,
“Behold your Savior from his tomb arise!”

While saints attend the blessed morn,
He rose: -- The God in human form,
A form not made of vulgar clay:
Which, tho’ it slept, cou’d not decay!
Hail, mortals; hail (transported seraphs cry) [4]
Redeem’d, and favor’d by the God most high.

In heav’n let joys eternal flow,
And mercy in the worlds below;
The penitent shall peace obtain,
And not a tear shall fall in vain.
Then join, ye worlds, in one glad chorus sing,
Praise to Messiah, and th’ Almighty King. [5]


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W I N T E R

What pictures now shall wanton fancy bring?
Or how the Muse to Artemisia sing?
Now shiv'ring nature mourns her ravish’d charms,
And sinks supine in winter's frozen arms.
No gaudy banks delight the ravish'd eye,
But northern breezes whistle thro' the sky.
No joyful choirs hail the rising day,
But the frozen chrystal wraps the leafless spray:
Brown look the meadows that were late so fine,
And cap’d with ice the distant mountains shine;
The silent linnet views the gloomy sky,
Sculks to his hawthorn, nor attempts to fly:
Then heavy clouds send down the feather’d snow;
Through naked trees the hollow tempests blow;
The shepherd sighs, but not his sighs prevail;
To the soft snow succeeds the rushing hail;
And these white prospects soon resign their room
To melting showers or unpleasing gloom;
The nymphs and swains their aking fingers blow,
Shun the cold rains, and bless the kinder snow;
While the faint travellers around them see,
Here seas of mud, and there a leafless tree:
No budding leaves, no honey-suckles gay,
No yellow crow-foots paint the dirty way;
The lark sits mournful as afraid to rise,
And the sad finch his softer song denies.
      Poor draggled Urs’la  stalks from cow to cow,
Who to her sighs return a mournful low;



 [94]

While their full udders her broad hands assail,
And her sharp nose hangs dropping o’er the pail.
With garments trickling like a shallow spring,
And his wet locks all twisted in a string,
Afflicted Cymon  waddles thro' the mire,
And rails at Win'fred creeping o'er the fire.
      Say, gentle Muses, say, is this a time
To sport with poesy and laugh in rhyme?
While the chill'd blood, that hath forgot to glide,
Steals thro' its channels in a lazy tide:
And how can Phœbus, who the Muse refines,
Smooth the dull numbers when he seldom shines?

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P  O  E  M  S



B Y



Mrs.   M A D A N






 [136]
Mrs.   M A D A N

(Formerly Miss C O W P E R )

IS the Wife of Colonel Madan, a Lady, who, among her other excellent qualities, has fine talents for poetry. The following original pieces will, we doubt not, make the reader long for more by the same hand, with which indeed we should be glad to oblige him: but this Lady, notwithstanding her extraordinary genius, could never yet be prevailed on to commit any thing to print. A very affecting tenderness runs through the whole epistle from ABELARD, and whether we consider the numbers, diction, or sentiments, it is certainly much superior to all those pieces that have appeared on the same subject: and indeed this Lady's ABELARD is no mean companion to Pope's ELOISA.

    The curious reader will perhaps look on it as an odd accident, that
ELOISA's Letter should have been put into metre by a man, and that ABELARD's should at length come to us in elegant verse from the hands of a Lady.

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P  O  E  M  S



B Y



Mrs.   M A S T E R S



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Mrs.   M A S T E R S



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P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Lady  M.  W.  M O N T A G U E




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The L A D Y 's   R E S O L V E

Written extempore on a Window.

Whilst thirst of praise, and vain desire of fame,
In ev'ry age, is ev'ry woman's aim;
With courtship pleas'd, of silly toasters proud,
fond of a train, and happy in a crowd;
On each poor fool bestowing some kind glance,
Each conquest owing to some loose advance;
While vain coquets affect to be persu'd,
And think they're virtuous, if not grossly lewd;
Let this great maxim be my virtue's guide;
In part she is to blame that has been try'd;
He comes too near, that comes to be deny'd.


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P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Mrs.    M O N K




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Mrs.    M O N K

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S O N E T T O.

From M A R I N I.


   Soft Sleep, thou son of Silence and of Night,
Parent of wild imaginary forms,
Thro’ whose dark quiet paths the lover oft
Straying does haply find his wish’d-for bliss;
    Now ev’ry heart, but mine, in sweet repose,
Slumbers amidst these light and aery shades,
Forsake thy closer caverns, gentle Sleep,
Thy grots Cimmerian, gloomy as my thoughts.
    Approach me with thy lov’d forgetfulness,
Bring that bright form, whereon I joy to gaze,
Let it speak comfort to my lone desires.
    But if to see the semblance of the fair
In thee’s deny’d me, I at least shall find
The image of that death I long to meet.

*********************************************************************

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P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Dutchess of   N E W C A S T L E



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Dutchess of   N E W C A S T L E


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P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Mrs.   K A T H.   P H I L I P S






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Mrs.   K A T H.   P H I L I P S

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***********************************************************************

Against   L O V E.

HENCECupid with your cheating toys,
Your real griefs, and painted joys,
Your pleasure which it self destroys.
    Lovers like men in fevers burn and rage,
    And only what will injure them do crave.
Mens weakness makes love so severe,
They give him power by their fear,
And make the shackles which they wear.
    Who to another does his heart submit,
    Makes his own idol, and then worships it.
Him, whose heart is all his own,
Peace and liberty does crown,
He apprehends no killing frown.
    He feels no raptures which are joys diseas'd,
    And is not much transported, but still pleas'd.

***********************************************************************

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P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Mrs.   P I L K I N G T O N





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Mrs.   P I L K I N G T O N



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************************************************************************

Lying is an occupation
Us'd by all who mean to rise;
Politicians owe their station
But to well-concerted lies.

These to lovers give assistance
To ensnare the fair one’s heart;
And to virgin’s best resistance
Yields to this commanding art.

Study this superior science,
Would you rise in church or state;
Bid to truth a bold defiance,
’Tis the practice of the great.

*************************************************************************

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P  O  E  M  S


B Y



Mrs.  R O W E





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***********************************************************
H Y M N

To the D E I T Y


TO thee, my God, I hourly sigh,
But not for golden stores;
Nor covet I the brightest gems
On the rich Eastern shores.


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Nor that deluding empty joy,
Men call a mighty name;
Nor greatness in its gayest pride
My restless thoughts inflame.

Nor pleasure’s soft enticing charms
My fond desires allure:
For greater things than these from thee
My wishes wou'd secure.

Those blissful, those transporting smiles
That brighten heav'n above,
The boundless riches of thy grace,
And treasures of thy love.

These are the mighty things I crave;
O! make these blessings mine,
And I the glories of the world
Contentedly resign.
****************************************************************

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***********************************************************************


In what soft language shall my thoughts get free,
My dear Alexis when I talk of thee?
Ye Muses, Graces, all ye gentle train
Of weeping loves, assist the pensive strain !
But why should I implore your moving art?
‘Tis but to speak the dictates of my heart,
And all that knew the charming youth will join
Their friendly sighs, and pious tears to mine:
For all that knew his merit must confess,
In grief for him there can be no excess.
    His soul was form’d to act each glorious part
Of life, unstain’d with vanity or art.
No thought within his gen’rous mind had birth,
But what he might have own’d to heav’n and earth.
Practis’d by him, each virtue grew more bright,
And shone with more than its own native light.




 [282]

Whatever noble warmth could recommend
The just, the active, and the constant friend,
Was all his own-----but Oh! a dearer name,
And softer ties, my endless sorrows claim;
Lost in despair, distracted, and forlorn,
The lover, I, and tender husband mourn.
Whate’er to such superior worth was due,
Whate’er excess the fondest passion knew,
I felt for thee, dear youth; my joy, my care,
My prayers themselves were thine, and only where
Thou wast concerned, my virtue was sincere.
Whene’er I begged for blessings on thy head,
Nothing was cold, or formal, that I said;
My warmest vows to heav'n were made for thee,
And love stll mingled with my piety.
O thou wast all my glory, all my pride!
Through life’s uncertain paths my constant guide:
Regardless of the world to gain thy praise,
Was all that could my just ambition raise.
    Why has my heart this fond engagement known?
Or why has heav'n dissolv'd the tie so soon?
Why was the charming youth so form'd to move?
Or why was all my soul so turned for love?
But virtue here a vain defense had made,
Where so much worth and eloquence could plead.
For he could talk—‘twas ecstasy to hear,
‘Twas joy, ‘twas harmony to every ear!
Eternal musick dwelt upon the tongue,
Soft and transporting as the muse’s song.
List'ning to him my cares were charm'd to rest,
And love, and rapture fill'd my breast;


 [283]

Unheeded the gay moments took their flight,
And time was only measur'd by delight.
I hear the lov'd, the melting accents still,
And still the kind, the tender transport feel:
Again I see the sprightly passions rise,
And life and pleasure kindle in his eyes.
My fancy paints him now with ev'ry grace,
But ah! The dear resemblance mocks my fond embrace;
The smiling vision takes its hasty flight,
And scenes of horror swim before my sight.
Grief and despair in all their terrors rise,
A dying lover pale and gasping lies;
Each dismal circumstances appears in view,
The fatal object is for ever new:
His anguish, with the quickest sense I feel,
And hear this sad, this moving language still.
    ‘My dearest wife! My last, my fondest care!
Sure heav'n for thee will hear a dying prayer:
Be thou the charge of sacred Providence,
When I am gone, be that thy kind defense;
Ten thousand smiling blessings crown thy head,
When I am cold, and number'd with the dead.
Think on thy vows, be to my mem'ry just,
My future fame and honour are thy trust.
From all engagement here I now am free,
But that which keeps my ling'ring soul with thee.
How much I love, thy bleeding heart can tell,
Which does, like mine, the pangs of parting feel:
But haste to meet me on the happy plains,
Where mighty love in endless triumph reigns.


 [284]

    He ceas'd; then gently yielded up his breath,
And fell a blooming sacrifice to death:
But oh ! what words, what numbers can express,
What thought conceive, the height of my distress?
Why did they tear me from thy breathless clay?
I should have staid, and wept my life away.
Yet, gentle shade, whether thou now dost rove
Through some blest vail, or ever verdant grove;
One moment listen to my grief, and take
The softest vows that constant love can make.
      For thee all thoughts of pleasure I forego,
For thee my tears shall never cease to flow;
For thee at once I from the world retire,
To feed, in silent shades, a hopeless fire.
My bosom all thy image shall retain,
The full impression there shall still remain.
As thou hast taught my tender heart to prove
The noblest height and elegance of love;
That sacred passion I to thee confine,
My spotless faith shall be for ever thine.


 [285]


P  O  E  M  S




B Y



Anne Finch,  Lady   W I N C H E L S E A





 [286]

Lady   W I N C H E L S E A



 [287]


 [288]


 [289]


 [290]


 [291]


 [292]


 [293]


 [294]


 [295]


 [296]


Methinks this world is oddly made,
And ev’ry thing’s amiss,
A dull presuming Atheist said,
As stretch’d he lay beneath a shade;
And instanced it in this:
 
Behold, quoth he, that mighty thing,
A Pumpkin, large and round,
Is held but by a little string,
Which upwards cannot make it spring,
Or bear it from the Ground.
 
Whilst on this Oak, a fruit so small,
So disproportion’d grows;
That, who with sense surveys this all,
This universal casual ball,
Its ill contrivance knows.
 
My better Judgment wou’d have hung
That weight upon a tree,
And left this Mast, thus slightly strung,
`Mongst things which on the surface sprung,
And small and feeble be.
 
No more the caviller cou’d say,
Nor farther faults descry;
For, as he upwards gazing lay,
An Acorn, loosen’d from the stay,
Fell down upon his eye.
 
Th’ offended part with tears ran o’er,
As punish’d for the sin:
Fool! Had that Bough a Pumpkin bore,
Thy whimseys must have work’d no more,
Nor Scull had kept them in.



 [297]


 [298]


 [299]


 [300]


[301]


 [302]


 [303]


 [304]


 [305]


 [306]


 [307]


 [308]


 [309]


 [310]


 [311]


 [312]


 [313]


 [314]


 [315]


 [316]


 [317]


 [318]


 [319]


 [320]



Notes


p. 22

Gini Vance, Apr 2004
Leapor, "Mira's Will"

Headnote

Mary Leapor (1722-1746) was the daughter of a gardener in Northamptonshire.  She grew up reading and writing which was unusual for a woman at that time.  She died at a young age from measles and her poems were published after death.

Mary Leapor referred to herself as Mira in her writing.  “Mira’s Will” is a poem about her will and the virtues she would like to leave various members of society.  For example, she leaves her good-nature to surly husbands and her patience to slighted virgins and neglected wives. After her funeral, she wants her pen to be given to small poets.  It is not clear to whom she refers to here but it may be small children.  As a child, people tried to discourage her from reading and writing.  This line may be meant as encouragement to children not to give up but persevere as she did. She discusses her funeral procession and ends the poem with the usual comment associated with wills about being sound in body and mind.

Editorial Decisions

This transcription is left essentially as it was presented in the Eminent Ladies anthology. The long s has been changed to s and spaces have been shortened. By minimizing the changes, the reader is influenced by Leapor’s poetry not by the editing.  Variations in editing decisions were found in the Representative Poetry on Line version of "Mira’s Will," where the editor capitalized words such as shade, heav’n, body, vice, folly, etc.

 The editor of the Oxford Anthology and Poetry by English Women includes many dropped letters (e.g., o’verstocked instead of Leapor’s o’verstock’d). This may not be an accurate reflection of the way people spoke and wrote in the 18th century.  In these examples, the poem is very easy to read and understand but some of the flavor is lost.

 In the British Literature or Blackwell Anthology, the editor also capitalized words such as shade, heav’n, body, vice, folly, etc and corrected all the spelling. The editor also added a blank line between “Garlic cry” and “All this.”

Notes on the Poem

imprimus:  First (OED). Used to identify the first article in a legal document.

blasted laurel: bay laurel is symbolic of poetic achievement; here it is withered by weather or the change of seasons (DeMaria 777)                

wight:  person (OED)

relict:   widow (OED)

Bibliography

Leapor, Mary. Poems upon Several Occasions. London: J. Roberts, 1748. pp. 8-9

Simpson, J. and Weiner, E., “Oxford English Dictionary” (OED), Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989

Leapor, Mary. “Mira’s Will.” Eighteenth Century Women Poets: An Oxford Anthology. Ed. Roger Lonsdale. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1990. 214-215.

Leapor, Mary. “Mira’s Will.”  Representative Poetry on Line. Ed. Ian Lancashire Toronto: Univ. of Toronto <http://eir.library.utoronto.ca/rpo/display/poem1285.html>

Leapor, Mary. “Mira’s Will.”  British Literature 1640-1789: An Anthology. Ed. Robert DeMaria, Jr. New York: Blackwell Press, 2001.  778-779

Leapor, Mary. “Mira’s Will.”  Poetry by English Women: Elizabethan to Victorian. Ed. R.E. Pritchard. Exeter: SRP Ltd., 1990. 149-150.

 





p. 39


Kevin Tucker, March 2003
Leapor, "The Crucifixion and Resurrection: An Ode"

Headnote

Mary Leapor (1722-46) was an anomaly among writers during her time, in that she did not have much money and therefore did not receive much education.  Citing Pope as her chief influence, she began composing verse at a young age, although she was not encouraged to do so.  By the time she was able to obtain a patron willing to publish an entire collection of her work, she was 14 months away from her death.  Two volumes of her poetry, both titled Poems upon Several Occasions, were published posthumously, one in 1748, and one in 1751.  The anthology Poems by the Most Eminent Ladies of Great Britain and Ireland, in which this piece appeared, arrived in 1773.  “The Crucifixion and Resurrection: An Ode,” is essentially a simple poem, retelling the biblical story of Jesus Christ’s death upon the cross and his resurrection from the grave.  It has a very musical quality to it, which would connect with the idea that the universe should “in one glad chorus sing” (line 45).  Overall, it seems to be a very straightforward piece, with no hint of irony or satire; rather, it is just a typical Christian ode.

Notes on the Poem

[1] See Matt. 24:29.
[2] As described in Matt. 27:51-54 and Luke 23:44-45.
[3] 1 Peter 2:24: "He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By the wounds you have been healed.
[4] Lines 23-30 can be referring to Luke 24:1-5, Mark 16:1-7, or Matthew 28:1-8. Also the seraphim reference may refer to Isaiah 6:2-3.
[5] See Luke 15:7, or Rev. 4:8-11.


Bibliography

Leapor, Mary. Poems upon Several Occasions. London: n.p., 1748.

"To the Reader:
The Author of the following poems was taken from the World at the time when she first began to meet with Encouragement to print them, and, in Compliance with her dying Request, they are now published for the Benefit of her Father, who is desirous to make use of this Opportunity of returning his humble Thanks to the Subscribers for the Favour they have been pleased to shew him.
    The short Account which has been given of Mrs. Leapor, with the Proposals for a Subscription, it is hop'd, will sufficiently apologize for the Defects that shall be found in this Collection. Had she lived to correct and finish these first Productions of a young unassisted Genius, certainly they would have been greatly improved, tho', as they now appear in their native Simplicity, they cannot surely but afford an agreeable Entertainment to the Reader, and serve as a convincing Proof of the common Aphorism, Poeta nascitur, non fit.
    Mrs. Leapor from a Child delighted in reading, and particularly Poetry, but had few Opportunities of procuring any Books of that kind.  The author she most admired was Mr. Pope, whom she chiefly endeavoured to imitate; how far she succeeded in this, or any other of her Attempts, must be left to the Judgment of the Publick. And indeed if the Poems will not recommend themselves to the Reader, little Advantage is to be expected from anything that can be said of them here; but, in Justice to the Memory of the Author, as well as for the Satisfaction of all those who have so chearfully and generously contributed to improve the best Legacy she could bequeath to her Father, we beg leave to inform them, that her Conduct and Behaviour entirely corresponded with those virtuous and pious Sentiments which are conspicuous in her Poems. She was courteous and obliging to all, chearful, good-natured, and contented in the Station of Live in which Providence had placed her. The generous and charitable Spirit that appeared in her was exerted upon all Occasions to the utmost of her Ability, and was such as would have been ornamental in a much higher Sphere, to which in all Probability, if it had pleased God to spare her Life, her own Merit would have raised her.
    Some of her Papers, a little time before her Death, were communicated to several Persons of Rank and of distinguished Taste and Judgment, who were pleased to express a great Satisfaction in the View they had of promoting a Subscription for their being printed, and by that means encouraging her to proceed in a Science so agreeable to herself, and entertaining to them; but her Friends are now left to lament her Loss, and that so great a Part of a short and valuable Life was spent in Obscurity.
 
Todd, Janet, ed. "Mary Leapor."  A Dictionary of British and American Women Writers. Rowman & Littlefield, 1987. 192-3.


p. 93

Lauren Coleman, Apr 2004
Leapor, "Winter"

Headnote

Mary Leapor lived a life of relative obscurity.  Her collection of poems, Poems on Several Occasions, was not published until after she died of measles in 1746.  Her father had her poems published both to comply with his daughter’s final request and in thanks to Mary’s subscribers.

Originally titled “On Winter”, this poem has since been simply titled “Winter”.  In this poem, Leapor creates for us a pastoral image of the changing of the seasons from Fall to Winter, illustrating the hardships of the season as the snow gives way to rain and chores become even more tedious.  In this, Leapor may be telling us how the pastoral way of life is dying, like the land in the winter, and how all that is good is quickly approaching a gloomy end.  This is a poem depicting the fall of The Golden Age.  In the final lines of the poem, Leapor questions the Muses, those fey creatures from which artists derive their inspiration, about this being an appropriate time to enjoy writing poetry, this time when joy and happiness is lacking, like the sun on a winter’s day.
 
Notes

Artemisia: Often a generic pastoral name, Artemisia may also refer to the Italian painter Artemisia Gentileschi (1597-1651) who built a European reputation and managed to live a life of independence, rare for a women of her time (Kren and Marx).
sculks: Variant spelling  of skulks.
aking: Variant spelling of aching.
travellers: Travelers
Urs’la, Cymon, Win’fred: Pastoral names
poesy: Poetry.
Phœbus: Phœbus, also known as the son of Zeus, Apollo, the god of the Sun.

Bibliography

Gay, Marcus V., comp.  Occultopedia. March 17, 2004. http://www.occultopedia.com/index2.htm .

Kren, Emil and Daniel Marx., ed. KFKI. March 17, 2004. http://www.kfki.hu/~arthp/bio/g/gentiles/artemisi/biograph.html .

Lynch, Jack. March 17, 2004., ed.  “Eighteenth Century Resources”. http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/18th/lit.html .




p. 278

Jamie Howard, March 2003
Montague, "The Lady's Resolve"

Headnote

This poem was written by Lady Mary Wortley Montague in 1713 while sitting in a window.  She wrote this just after her husband’s death.  She was a very eccentric and risqué woman, and this was reflected in her poetry.  This poem, "The Lady’s Resolve," is an example of her liberal views towards the relationships between men and women.  In this poem, Montague gives a brief lesson to men on the dangers of women, and vice versa.

Notes on the Poem

toasters: Those who propose or drink to someone or something as a toast.
coquet:  An insincere woman who does anything she can to gain the attention of men.

Bibliography

Bartleby.com, Great Books Online.   5 March 2003. <http://www.poemhunter.com>

University of Virginia. 5 March 2003. <http://etext.libvirginia.edu/toc/moderng/public/monwork.html>


 



p. 190

Dawn Futrell, March 2003
Monk, "Sonetto--From Marini"

Headnote

This poem, by Marini, was originally written in Italian and was translated by Mary Monk.  Mrs. Monk, who was also a poet, excelled in the art of translation.  She was a self-educated woman who learned to speak Latin, Italian and Spanish on her own.  Although she was married to a man named George Monk, they did not have a happy marriage (Lonsdale).   She was plagued by a lingering disease throughout much of her life (Todd).   In this poem, she beautifully translates the poem and portrays a deep sense of depression that was a big part of her life.

Notes on the Poem

Grots: A grotto, which was another name for a cave. It was popular in this society to build caves into landscapes and gardens.
Cimmerian: Dark and gloomy.

Bibliography


Lonsdale, Roger, ed. Eighteenth-Century Women Poets. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1989.
Todd, Janet, ed. "Mary Monk." A Dictionary of British And American Women Writers.    Rowman & Littlefield, 1987.




p. 230

Cindy Tutor, March 2003
Philips, "Against Love"

Headnote


This poem, by Katherine Philips, is unlike the more familiar “Orinda” poems, written by the poet.  Her more personal poems relay events and personal feelings regarding her relationships.  In line one, Cupid refers to love and Philips believed that “love between women was pure [and] uncorrupted by the sexual”(Cooley).  She displays these friendships through her poems.  “Against Love” is a powerful poem which is more sexual in nature as she writes, “He feels no raptures, which are joys, diseased.”  This is quite different from the poems which celebrate her closest friends and my be in response to those closet to her leaving the Society of Friendship for husbands, new friends and other interests (Moody).

Notes on the Poem

Toys: Toys, joys, destroys, etc. are spelled as toies, joies, destroies, etc., in some versions.

Bibliography

Cooley, Ron. As One Phoenix: Four Seventeenth-Century Women Poets. 6 March
 2003. <http://www.usask.ca/english/phoenix/introduction.htm>
Moody, Ellen. Orinda, Rosania, Lucasia et aliae: Towards a New Edition of the Works of Katherine Philips. 6 March 2003. <http://jimandellen.org/Orinda.ordering.poems.html>


p. 258

Kari Ewald, March 2003
Pilkington, "Song"

Headnote

This poem, by Laetitia Pilkington, talks about lying.  The poem claims that anyone who succeeds in life lies, naming politicians.  The lines that read, “And to virgin’s best resistance yields to this commanding art” could be alluding to Pilkington’s relationship with her husband.  Pilkington admits she was first attracted to her husband, Mathew Pilkington, because he courted her with poetry.  The marriage, however, was not successful:  he abandoned her with their two children, and she was forced to pursue him to London.  After her divorce, Pilkington supported herself on poetry alone. Pilkington is best known for writing her Memoirs, which consist of three volumes.

Bibliography

Pilkington, Laetitia. “A Song.” Online Posting. the tube.com. 6 March. 2003 <http://www.thetube.com/content/poems/default.asp?DID=118>.
Todd, Janet, ed.. “Laetitia Pilkington.” A Dictionary of British and American Women Writers.   Rev. ed. New Jersey: Roman and Littlefield, 1987.


p. 272

Scott Davis, March 2003
Rowe, "Hymn to the Deity"

Headnote

This poem first appeared in Divine Hymns and Poems on Several Occasions in 1704.  This collection of religious poetry and prose was dedicated to Sir Richard Blackmore, the leading pioneer of the reformation of poetry, which held that the Bible was the greatest source of poetical inspiration. 

Rowe was left financially independent after her husband Thomas Rowe, a scholar and son of a non-conformist minister, died in 1715.  Being wealthy allowed Rowe to be loosely bound to the literary scene in London, which ultimately enabled her to pursue her pious beliefs, among other non-conformist ideologies. 

This particular poem addresses the tendency of people to covet all that they haven’t already acquired.  Rowe was speaking out against this fatal urge; addressing her god directly.  Rowe only requires “those transporting smiles” (approval or blessings from God), in order to feel a sense of fulfillment.

Notes on the Text

hymn: A song or poem of praise, usually inspired by the Lord.
deluding:  cheating
allure: entice


p. 281

Michelle Baxter, March 2003
Rowe, "On the Death of Mr. Thomas Rowe"

Headnote:

This poem, by Elizabeth Rowe, was dedicated to honor her beloved husband’s memory. It was written shortly after the time of her husband’s death in 1715. In London, Thomas Rowe suffered and died from consumption (tuberculosis, an infectious disease transmitted by bacterium, in which tubercules, or small swelling, appear in the tissues, esp. the lungs).  Elizabeth Rowe is best remembered for her “pastoral solitude.”  She was quite a pious  women and her benevolence won her many admirers. The significance of this poem shows a woman’s “high moral virtues” during the 18th century. “On the Death of Thomas Rowe” portrays Elizabeth Rowe’s grieving heart over the loss of her dead husband. It reflects her deep love, passion, and devotion that she had for her husband and God. In comparing Elizabeth Rowe’s poem from 1715 to modern day versions there are many differences. Elizabeth Rowe’s original is entitled “On the Death of Mr. Thomas Rowe” but the 1989 edited version by Roger Lonsdale is entitled “Upon the Death of my Husband.” This poem is written in heroic couplets. The religious value is significant because it portrays the high morals and standards of the era. It was also common during the 18th century for women to write about their loved ones. This beautiful poem depicts marriage during this era and shows the mutual love and respect between a husband and wife. From a historical perspective, Mr. Rowe's death from tuberculosis shows how people of the 18th C. were greatly affected by diseases because there were few cures.

Notes on the Poem

pious: deeply religious. Origin Latin pius dutiful. (OED)

Bibliography

Rowe, Elizabeth.“On the Death of Mr. Thomas Rowe.” Poems of the most eminent Ladies of Great Britain and Ireland.  Ed. George Colman and B. Thornton. London: n.p.,1773. 

See also: Rowe, Elizabeth. “Upon the Death of my Husband.” (1715) Eighteenth-Century Women Poets An Oxford Anthology. Ed. Roger Lonsdale. Oxford UP, 1990. 35-36.


p. 296

Christopher S. Murphy, March 2003
Finch, "Athiest and the Acorn"

Headnote

 Similar to one of Aesop’s Fables, the fable “The Atheist and the Acorn” by Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea, has the characteristics of a classic fable.  While not using an animal to portray the “fool” character, this poem by Anne Finch does have a moral to it.  The moral would be used more by a preacher or a priest to show a congregation the wisdom of God, rather than be used by a non-Christian, because of its message that “God has a plan in all things”.

Notes on the Poem

instanced:  demonstrated (OED)
string:   vine (OED)
casual ball: world without design (OED)
contrivance: design (OED)
mast: acorns (also fruit of beech, chestnut, and other trees, esp. as food for swine) (OED)
caviller: a frivolous objector; a quibbling disputant. (OED)
descry: describe (OED)
stay: (OED)

Bibliography

Finch, Anne. “The Atheist and the Acorn.” A Celebration of Women Writers.  Ed. Mary Mark Ockerbloom. 1994-2003.  <http://www.digital.library.upenn.edu/women/writers.html> 6 March 2003.
Finch, Anne. “The Atheist and the Acorn." Poems of the Most Eminent Ladies of Great Britain and Ireland, esp. Mrs. Barber. Mrs. Behn, Mrs. Carter, etc. Ed. George Colman and B. Thornton. London: n.p., 1773.
Simpson, J.A. Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. 6 vols. London: Clarendon Press, 1989.