Fair Chloe blushd: Euphelia frownd:
I sung, and gazed: I playd, and trembled:
And Venus to
the Loves around
Remarkd, how ill we all dissembled.
I, MY dear, was born to-day
So all my jolly comrades say:
They bring me music, wreaths,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know
That I was born to pain and
To thy denial, to thy scorn,
Better I had neer been born:
I wish to die, even whilst I say
I, my dear,
was born to-day.
I, my dear, was born to-day:
Shall I salute the rising ray,
Well-spring of all my joy and woe?
thou alone dost know.
Shall the wreath surround my hair?
Or shall the music please my ear?
Shall I my
comrades mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me see great Venus chase
anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee smiling say
Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.
VENUS, take my votive glass:
Since I am not what I was,
What from this day I shall be,
let me never see.
to Lady Margaret Cavendish Holles-Harley, when a Child
MY noble, lovely, little Peggy,
Let this my First Epistle beg ye,
At dawn of morn, and close
To lift your heart and hands to Heaven.
In double duty say your prayer:
Our Father first, then
And, dearest child, along the day,
In every thing you do and say,
Obey and please my lord and
So God shall love and angels aid ye.
If to these precepts you attend,
No second letter need I send,
And so I rest your constant
RELEASD from the noise of the butcher and baker
Who, my old friends be thanked, did seldom forsake
And from the soft duns of my landlord the Quaker,
From chiding the footmen and watching the lasses,
Nell that burnd milk, and Tom that broke glasses
(Sad mischiefs thro which a good housekeeper passes!)
From some real care but more fancied vexation,
From a life parti-colourd half reason half passion,
lies after all the best wench in the nation.
From the Rhine to the Po, from the Thames to the Rhone,
Joanna or Janneton, Jinny or Joan,
one to her by what name she was known.
For the idiom of words very little she heeded,
Provided the matter she drove at succeeded,
She took and
gave languages just as she needed.
So for kitchen and market, for bargain and sale,
She paid English or Dutch or French down on the nail,
in telling a story she sometimes did fail;
Then begging excuse as she happend to stammer,
With respect to her betters but none to her grammar,
blush helped her out and her jargon became her.
Her habit and mien she endeavord to frame
To the different gout of the place where she came;
still changd, but her inside the same: