[6]
[7]
[8]
[9]
[10]
[11]
[12]
[13]
[14]
[15]
[16]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. M A R Y L E A P O R
[17]
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.
[18]
[19]
[20]
[21]
[22]
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.
[24]
[25]
[26]
[27]
[28]
[29]
[30]
[31]
[32]
[33]
[34]
[35]
[36]
[37]
[38]
[39]
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]
[41]
[42]
[43]
[44]
[45]
[46]
[47]
[48]
[49]
[50]
[51]
[52]
[53]
[54]
[55]
[56]
[57]
[58]
[59]
[60]
[61]
[62]
[63]
[64]
[65]
[66]
[67]
[68]
[69]
[70]
[71]
[72]
[73]
[74]
[75]
[76]
[77]
[78]
[79]
[80]
[81]
[82]
[83]
[84]
[85]
[86]
[87]
[88]
[89]
[90]
[91]
[92]
[93]
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?
[95]
[96]
[97]
[98]
[99]
[100]
[101]
[102]
[103]
[104]
[105]
[106]
[107]
[108]
[109]
[110]
[111]
[112]
[113]
[114]
[115]
[116]
[117]
[118]
[119]
[120]
[121]
[122]
[123]
[124]
[125]
[126]
[127]
[128]
[129]
[130]
[131]
[132]
[133]
[134]
[135]
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.
[137]
[138]
[139]
[140]
[141]
[142]
[143]
[144]
[145]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. M A S T E R S
[146]
Mrs. M A S T E
R S
[147]
[148]
[149]
[150]
[151]
[152]
[153]
[154]
[155]
[156]
[157]
P O E M S
B Y
Lady M. W. M O N T A G U E
[158]
[159]
[160]
[161]
[162]
[163]
[164]
[165]
[166]
[167]
[168]
[169]
[170]
[171]
[172]
[173]
[174]
[175]
[176]
[177]
[178]
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.
[179]
[180]
[181]
[182]
[183]
[184]
[185]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. M O N K
[186]
Mrs. M O
N K
[187]
[188]
[189]
[190]
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.
*********************************************************************
[191]
[192]
[193]
[194]
[195]
[196]
[197]
P O E M S
B Y
Dutchess of N E W C A S T L E
[198]
Dutchess of N E
W C A S T L E
[199]
[200]
[201]
[202]
[203]
[204]
[205]
[206]
[207]
[208]
[209]
[210]
[211]
[212]
[213]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. K A T H. P H I L I P S
[214]
Mrs. K A T H.
P H I L I P S
[215]
[216]
[217]
[218]
[219]
[220]
[221]
[222]
[223]
[224]
[225]
[226]
[227]
[228]
[229]
[230]
***********************************************************************
Against
L O V E.
HENCE
Cupid 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.
***********************************************************************
[231]
[232]
[233]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. P I L K I N G T O N
[234]
Mrs. P I L K I
N G T O N
[235]
[236]
[237]
[238]
[239]
[240]
[241]
[242]
[243]
[244]
[245]
[246]
[247]
[248]
[249]
[250]
[251]
[252]
[253]
[254]
[255]
[256]
[257]
[258]
************************************************************************
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.
*************************************************************************
[259]
[260]
[261]
[262]
[263]
[264]
[265]
[266]
[267]
[268]
[269]
P O E M S
B Y
Mrs. R O W E
[270]
[271]
[272]
***********************************************************
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.
[273]
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.
****************************************************************
[274]
[275]
[276]
[277]
[278]
[279]
[280]
[281]
***********************************************************************
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.