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Born to the Spacious Empire of the Nine, One wou'd have thought, she should have been content

To manage well that Mighty Government; 90
But what can young ambitious Souls confine?
To the next Realm she stretcht her Sway,
For Painture near adjoyning lay,
A plenteous Province, and alluring Prey.
A Chamber of Dependences was fram'd,
(As Conquerors will never want Pretence,
When arm'd, to justifie th' Offence),
And the whole Fief, in right of Poetry she
claim'd.

The Country open lay without Defence ; For Poets frequent In-rodes there had made, And perfectly cou'd represent

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The Shape, the Face, with ev'ry Lineament;

And all the large Demains which the Dumb

sister sway'd;

All bow'd beneath her Government, Receiv'd in Triumph wheresoe're she went. Her Pencil drew whate're her Soul design'd And oft the happy Draught surpass'd the Image in her Mind.

The Sylvan Scenes of Herds and Flocks
And fruitful Plains and barren Rocks,
Of shallow Brooks that flow'd so clear, 110
The bottom did the top appear;
Of deeper too and ampler Floods
Which as in Mirrors, shew'd the Woods;
Of lofty Trees, with Sacred Shades
And Perspectives of pleasant Glades,
Where Nymphs of brightest Form appear,
And shaggy Satyrs standing near,
Which them at once admire and fear.
The Ruines too of some Majestick Piece,
Boasting the Pow'r of ancient Rome or
Greece,

120

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Now all those Charms, that blooming Grace, The well-proportion'd Shape and beauteous Face,

150

Shall never more be seen by Mortal Eyes; In Earth the much-lamented Virgin lies!

139 sqq. These lines as printed in 1686 ran: As in that Day she took from Sacred hands The Crown; 'mong num'rous Heroins was seen, More yet in Beauty, than in Rank, the Queen! Saintsbury wrongly gives 'mongst for 'mong 149 Charins] Charmes 1686.

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But look aloft, and if thou ken'st from far,
Among the Pleiad's, a New-kindl❜d star,
If any sparkles, than the rest, more bright,
'Tis she that shines in that propitious Light.

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When in mid-Air the Golden Trump shall sound,

To raise the Nations under ground;
When in the Valley of Jehosaphat

180

The Judging God shall close the book of Fate;

And there the last Assizes keep

For those who Wake and those who Sleep; When ratling Bones together fly

From the four Corners of the Skie, When Sinews o're the Skeletons are spread, Those cloath'd with Flesh, and Life inspires the Dead ;

The Sacred Poets first shall hear the Sound,) And formost from the Tomb shall bound: For they are cover'd with the lightest ground;

190 And streight, with in-born Vigour, on the Wing,

Like mounting Larks, to the New Morning sing.

There Thou, sweet Saint, before the Quire shalt go,

As Harbinger of Heav'n, the Way to show, The Way which thou so well hast learn'd below.

UPON THE DEATH OF THE VISCOUNT

OF DUNDEE.

OH Last and Best of Scots! who did'st | Scotland and Thee did each in other live, maintain

Thy Country's Freedom from a Foreign
Reign;

New People fill the Land, now thou art gone,
New Gods the Temples, and new Kings the
Throne.

170 Sails] Sailes 1686. 178 Air] Aire 1686. 192 Larks] Larkes 1686.

Nor wou'dst thou her, nor cou'd she thee

survive.

Farewel! who living didst support the State,

And coud'st not fall but with thy Country's

Fate

UPON THE DEATH OF THE VISCOUNT OF DUNDEE. Text of 1704.

EPITAPH ON THE LADY WHITMORE.

FAIR, Kind, and True, a Treasure each alone,

A Wife, a Mistress, and a Friend in one, Rest in this Tomb, rais'd at thy Husband's cost,

Here sadly summing, what he had, and lost.

EPITAPH ON THE LADY WHITMORE. Text from the Monument in Twickenham Church.

Come Virgins, ere in equal Bands ye join, Come first and offer at her Sacred Shrine; Pray but for half the Vertues of this Wife,

Compound for all the rest with longer Life;

And wish your Vows, like hers, may be return'd,

So Lov'd when Living, and when Dead so Mourn'd.

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ABINGDON
Highly Commending hov:

Written by Mr. D RY DEN.

Superas evadere ad auras,
Hoc opus, hic labor eft. Panci, ques equus amavit
Juppiter, aut ardens evexit ad æthera virtus;
Diis geniti potuere. Virgil Æneid. I. 6.

LONDON:

Printed for Jacob Tonfan, at the Judges Head in Chancery-
Lane, near Fleetstreet. 1692, 7. March.

Where compleat Sets of Mr. Dryden's Works are Sold: The Plays being put
in the order they were Written.

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE

THE

EARL OF ABINGDON, &c.

My Lord,-The Commands, with which You honour'd me some Months ago are now perform'd: they had been sooner; but betwixt ill health, some business, and many troubles, I was forc'd to deferr them till this time. Ovid, going to his Banishment, and writing from on Shipbord to his Friends, excus'd the Faults of his Poetry by his Misfortunes; and told them that good Verses never flow, but from a serene and compos'd Spirit. Wit, which is a kind 10 of Mercury with Wings fasten'd to his Head and Heels, can fly but slowly in a damp air. I therefore chose rather to Obey You late than ill if at least I am capable of writing anything, at any time, which is worthy Your Perusal and Your Patronage. I cannot say that I have escap'd from a Shipwreck; but have only gain'd a Rock by hard swimming; where I may pant a while and gather breath: For the Doctors give me a sad assurance that my Disease never took its leave of any man but with a purpose to return. However, my Lord, I have laid hold on the Interval, and menag'd the small Stock which Age has left me to the best advantage, in performing this inconsiderable service to my Ladies memory. We who are Priests of Apollo have not the Inspiration when we please; but must wait until the God comes rushing on us, and invades us with a fury, which we are not able to resist: which gives us 20 double strength while the Fit continues, and leaves us languishing and spent, at its departure. Let me not seem to boast; my Lord; for I have really felt it on this Occasion and prophecy'd beyond my natural power. Let me add and hope to be believ'd, that the Excellency of the Subject contributed much to the Happiness of the Execution: And that the weight of thirty Years was taken off me, while I was writing. I swom with the Tyde, and the water under me was buoyant. The Reader will easily observe, that I was transported, by the multitude and variety of my Similitudes, which are generally the product of a luxuriant Fancy; and the wantonness of Wit. Had I call'd in my Judgment to my assistance, I had certainly retrench'd many of them. But I defend them not; let them pass for beautiful faults amongst the better sort of Critiques: For the whole Poem, though written in that which they call Heroique 30 Verse, is of the Pindarique nature, as well in the Thought as the Expression; and, as such, requires the same grains of allowance for it. It was intended, as Your Lordship sees in the Title, not for an Elegie, but a Panegyrique. A kind of Apotheosis, indeed; if a Heathen Word may be applyed to a Christian use. And on all Occasions of Praise, if we take the Ancients for our Patterns, we are bound by Prescription to employ the magnificence of Words, and the force of Figures, to adorn the sublimity of Thoughts. Isocrates amongst the Grecian Orators, and Cicero, and the younger Pliny, amongst the Romans, have left us their Precedents for our security: For I think I need not mention the inimitable Pindar, who stretches on these Pinnions out of sight, and is carried upward, as it were, into another World.

This, at least, my Lord, I may justly plead, that if I have not perform'd so well as I think 40 I have, yet I have us'd my best endeavours to excel my self. One Disadvantage I have had, which is, never to have known, or seen my Lady: And to draw the Lineaments of her Mind, from the Description which I have receiv'd from others, is for a Painter to set himself at work without the living Original before him. Which the more beautiful it is, will be so much the more difficult for him to conceive; when he has only a relation given him of such and such Features by an Acquaintance or a Friend; without the Nice Touches, which give the best Resemblance, and make the Graces of the Picture. Every Artist is apt enough to flatter himself

10 slowly slowly, 1692.

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