Bathurst, a name the learn'd with reverence know,
And scarcely more to his own Virgil owe;

Whose age enjoys but what his youth deserved,
To rule those Muses whom before he served.
His learning, and untainted manners too,
We find, Athenians, are derived to you:
Such antient hospitality there rests

In yours, as dwelt in the first Grecian breasts,
Whose kindness was religion to their guests.
Such modesty did to our sex appear,

As, had there been no laws, we need not fear,
Since each of you was our protector here.
Converse so chaste, and so strict virtue shown,
As might Apollo with the Muses own.
Till our return we must despair to find
Judges so just, so knowing, and so kind.

SIR CHARLES SEDLEY.

1639-1701.

In an age of wit, courtesy, and vice, Sedley was pre-eminent for debauchery, politeness, and talents; he had his reward, or his punishment in seeing his daughter promoted to the rank of a Royal Concubine, and her evenged himself by actively contributing to the Revolution, saying with bitter pleasantry, that he "hated ingratitude, and as the King had made his daughter a Countess, he would in return labour to make the King's daughter a Queen." His Poems and Plays were collected in two small volumes. 1719.

Answer to Celia.

THYRSIS, I wish as well as you,
To honour there were nothing due:
Then would I pay my debt of love
In the same coin that you approve :
Which now you must in friendship take,
'Tis all the payment I can make ;
Friendship so high, that I must say,
"Tis rather Love with some allay.

And rest contented, since that I
As well myself as you deny.

Learn then of me bravely to bear

The want of what you

hold most dear;

And that which honour does in me,

Let my example work on thee.

To Celia.

As in those nations where they yet adore
Marble and cedar, and their aid implore,
'Tis not the workman; nor the precious wood,
But 'tis the worshipper that makes the god :
So, cruel Fair, tho' heaven has given thee all
We mortals Virtue, or can Beauty call,
'Tis we that give the thunder to your frowns,
Darts to your eyes, and to ourselves the wounds.
Without our love, which proudly you deride,
Vain were your beauty, and more vain your pride.
All envy'd beings that the world can shew,
Still to some meaner thing their greatness owe:
Subjects make kings, and we (the numerous train
Of humble lovers) constitute thy reign.

This difference only beauties realm may boast,
Where most it favours, it enslaves the most.
And they to whom it is indulgent found;
Are ever in the rudest fetters bound.

What tyrant yet, but thee, was ever known
Cruel to those that served to make him one?
Valour's a vice, if not with honour joyn'd,
And beauty a disease, when 'tis not kind.

SONG.

When Amelia first became

The mistress of his heart,

So mild and gentle was her reign,
Thyrsis, in hers, had part.

Reserves and care he laid aside,

And

gave his love the reins;

The headlong course he now must bide,

No other way remains.

At first her cruelty he fear'd,

But that being overcome,

No second for a while appear'd,

And he thought all his own.

He call'd himself a happier man
Than ever loved before ;

Her favours still his hopes out-ran,

What mortal can have more?

Love smiled at first, then looking grave,

Said, Thyrsis, Leave to boast;

More joy than all her kindness gave,

Her fickleness will cost.

He spoke; and from that fatal time,
All Thyrsis did, or said,

Appear'd unwelcome, or a crime,

To the ungrateful maid.

Then he despairing of her heart,

Would fain have had his own,

Love answered, such a nymph could part,

With nothing she had won.

SONG.

AURELIA, art thou mad
To let the world in me;
Envy joys I never had,

And censure them in thee.