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On twenty books, yet ne'er look in one. 170
TO THE COUNTESS OF DORSET,
written IN HER MILTON, BY MR. BRADBURY.
to EE here how bright the first-born virgin o shone, And how the first fond lover was undone. Such charming words our beauteous mother spoke, As Milton wrote, and such as yours her look.
Yours, the best copy of th’ original face,
TO THE LADY DURSLEY: *
On THE SAME SUBJECT.
5 ERE reading how fond Adam was beo tray'd, # And how by sin Eve's blasted charms decay’d; Our common loss unjustly you complain; So small that part of it, which you sustain. You still, fair mother, in your offspring trace The stock of beauty destin’d for the race: Kind nature, forming them, the pattern took From Heav'ns first work, and Eve's original look. You, happy saint, the serpent's pow'r control: Scarce any actual guilt defiles your soul: 10 And hell does o'er that mind vain triumph boast, Which gains a Heav'n, for earthly Eden lost. With virtue strong as yours had Eve been arm’d, In vain the fruit had blush'd, or serpent charm'd : Nor had our bliss by penitence been bought; Nor had frail Adam fall’n, nor Milton wrote.
* Elizabeth, daughter of Baptist Noel, Wiscount Campden. She died 30th July, 1719. Her husband, Charles Earl of Berkeley (when Lord Dursley), had been envoy extraordimary and plenipotentiary to the States of Holland, from whence he returned in 1695.
TO MY LORD BUCKHURST *
VERY YoUNG, PDAYING wrTH A CA r.
HE am’rous youth, whose tender breast
Was by his darling cat possest, § Obtain'd of Venus his desire,
- Howe'er irregular his fire: Nature the pow'r of love obey'd: The cat became a blushing maid; And, on the happy change, the boy Employ'd his wonder, and his joy.
Take care, O beauteous child, take care,
Her own Adonis live in thee,
* Lionel, afterwards Duke of Dorset, to whom Prior dedicated his poems. -
WoźHILE from our looks, fair nymph, you
There needs, alas! but little art,
With the same ease you threw the dart,
How can I see you, and not love;
While cold as northern blasts you prove;
The wretch in double fetters bound
Soon, if my love but once were crown'd,
KN vain you tell your parting lover, * You wish fair winds may waft him over Alas! what winds can happy prove, That bear me far from what I love? Alas! what dangers on the main
Can equal those that I sustain,
The nymphs and shepherds round him came:
Clorinda came among the rest;