Congreve and Addison

"Cease, cease to ask her name,The crowned Muse's noblest theme,Whose glory by immortal fameShall only sounded be,But if you long to know,Then look round yonder dazzling row,Who most does like an angel showYou may be sure 'tis she."

"When Lesbia first I saw, so heavenly fair,With eyes so bright and with that awful air,I thought my heart would durst so high aspireAs bold as his who snatched celestial fire.But soon as e'er the beauteous idiot spoke,Forth from her coral lips such folly broke;Like balm the trickling nonsense heal'd my wound,And what her eyes enthralled, her tongue unbound."

"Fair Amoret is gone astray,Pursue and seek her every lover;I'll tell the signs by which you mayThe wandering shepherdess discover.

Coquet and coy at once her air,Both studied, though both seem neglected;Careless she is with artful care,Affecting to be unaffected.

With skill her eyes dart every glance,Yet change so soon you'd ne'er suspect them;For she'd persuade they wound by chance,Though certain aim and art direct them.

She likes herself, yet others hatesFor that which in herself she prizes;And, while she laughs at them, forgetsShe is the thing which she despises."

"See! see, she wakes—Sabina wakes!And now the sun begins to rise:Less glorious is the morn, that breaksFrom his bright beams, than her fair eyes.With light united day they give;But different fates ere night fulfil:How many by his warmth will live!How many will her coldness kill!"

"Pious Selinda goes to prayers,If I but ask her favour;And yet the silly fool's in tears,If she believes I'll leave her.Would I were free from this restraint,Or else had hopes to win her:Would she could make of me a saint,Or I of her a sinner!"

"But O, my muse! what numbers wilt thou findTo sing the furious troops in battle join'd?Methinks I hear the drum's tumultouus sound,The victor's shouts and dying groans confound;The dreadful burst of cannon rend the skies,And all the thunders of the battle rise.'Twas then great Marlborough's mighty soul was proved,That, in the shock of charging hosts unmoved,Amidst confusion, horror, and despair,Examined all the dreadful scenes of war:In peaceful thought the field of death surveyed,To fainting squadrons lent the timely aid,Inspired repulsed battalions to engage,And taught the doubtful battle where to rage.So when an angel by divine command,With rising tempests shakes a guilty land(Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed),Calm and serene he drives the furious blast;And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform,Rides on the whirlwind and directs the storm."

"Austria's young monarch, whose imperial swaySceptres and thrones are destined to obey,

Whose boasted ancestry so high extendsThat in the pagan Gods his lineage ends,Comes from afar, in gratitude to ownThe great supporter of his father's throne.What tides of glory to his bosom ranClasped in th' embraces of the godlike man!How were his eyes with pleasing wonder fixt,To see such fire with so much sweetness mixt!Such easy greatness, such a graceful port,So learned and finished for the camp or court!"

"Soon as the evening shades prevail,The moon takes up the wondrous tale,And nightly to the listening earth,Repeats the story of her birth;And all the stars that round her burn,And all the planets in their turn,Confirm the tidings as they roll,And spread the truth from pole to pole,What though, in solemn silence, allMove round this dark terrestrial ball;What though no real voice nor sound,Among their radiant orbs be found;In reason's ear they all rejoice,And utter forth a glorious voice,For ever singing as they shine,The hand that made us is divine."

"Great Jonson did by strength of judgment please;Yet, doubling Fletcher's force, he wants his ease.In differing talents both adorn'd their age;One for the study, t'other for the stage.But both to Congreve justly shall submit,One match'd in judgment, both o'ermatched in wit.In him all beauties of this age we see," &c., &c.