How has your patience, with the barb'rous rage When straight the people, by no force compell'd, Break force at once, like powder set on fire; So th' injur'd sea, which, from her wonted course, To gain some acres, avarice did force, If the new banks, neglected once, decay, Offenders now, the chiefest, do begin If then such praise the MACEDONIAN got, For having rudely cut the GORDIAN knot; What glory's due to him, that could divide Such ravel'd int'rests, has the knot unty'd, Whose travel o'er that silver field does show, For, tho' a painter boughs and leaves can make, GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 1628-1687. The Author of the Rehearsal, whose character has been de scribed by Dryden, and whose death by Pope, in lines never to be forgotten. To his Mistress. WHAT a dull fool was I, As that I ever was in love before! I have, perhaps, known one or two, With whom I was content to be At that which they call keeping company; But after all that they could do, I still could be with more : Their absence never made me shed a tear; That till my eyes first gazed on you, I ne'er beheld that thing I could adore. Whose travel o'er that silver field does show, Light track of leverets in morning-snow. LOVE's image thus in purest minds is wrought, Without a spot, or blemish, to the thought. Strange that your fingers should the pencil foil, Without the help of colours, or of oil! For, tho' a painter boughs and leaves can make, "Tis you alone can make them bend or shake: Whose breath salutes your new-created grove, Like southern winds, and makes it gently move. ORPHEUS could make the forest dance; but Can make the motion, and the forest too. you GEORGE VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 1628-1687. The Author of the Rehearsal, whose character has been de scribed by Dryden, and whose death by Pope, in lines never to be forgotten. To his Mistress. WHAT a dull fool was I, As that I ever was in love before! I have, perhaps, known one or two, With whom I was content to be At that which they call keeping company; But after all that they could do, I still could be with more : Their absence never made me shed a tear; And I can truly swear, That till my eyes first gazed on you, I ne'er beheld that thing I could adore. |