I wyl you bringe; and with a rynge,
By way of maryage

I wyl you take, and lady make,
As fhortly as I can.

Thus have ye wone an erlie's fon,
And not a banishyd man.

R 2

HENRY AND EM M A,

APOEM, upon the model of the NUT-BROWN MAID.

THO

HOU, to whose eyes I bend; at whose command, (Tho' low my voice, tho' artless be my hand) I take the sprightly reed, and fing, and play; Careless of what the cens'ring world may say: Bright Cloe, object of my constant vow, Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow? Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains, And with one heav'nly smile o'erpay his pains? No longer fhall the Nut-brown Maid be old;

Tho' fince her youth three hundred years have roll'd.
At thy defire, fhe shall again be rais'd;

And her reviving charms in lasting verfe be prais'd.
No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love, and not be lov'd again :
That we in vain the fickle sex purfue,
Who change the conftant lover for the new.
Whatever has been writ, whatever faid
Of female paffion feign'd, or faith decay'd;
Henceforth fhall in my verse refuted stand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the fand.
And while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love, and ever-during flame;
O faireft of the fex! be thou my mufe:
Deign on my work thy influence to diffuse.
Let me partake the bleffings I rehearse,
And grant me, love, the just reward of verse,

As beauty's potent queen, with ev'ry grace
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face;
And as her fon has to my bofom dealt
That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt:
O let the story with thy life agree;

Let men once more the bright example fee;
What Emma was to him, be thou to me.
Nor send me by thy frown from her I love,
Distant and fad, a banish'd man to rove.
But oh! with pity long intreated crown
My pains and hopes; when thou say'st that one
Of all mankind thou lov'ft; oh! think on me alone.

W

HERE beauteous Ifis and her husband Tame

With mingled waves for ever flow the fame,
In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd;
Great gifts bestow'd, and great refpe&t receiv'd.
When dreadful Edward with fuccessful care
Led his free Britons to the Gallic war;
This lord had headed his appointed bands,
In firm allegiance to his king's commands;
And (all due honours faithfully discharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat enlarg'd
With a new mark, the witness of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign spoil.
From the loud camp retir'd and noisy court,
In honourable cafe and rural fport,

The remnant of his days he fafely past;
Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too fast,
He made his wish with his eftate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.

One child he had, a daughter chaft and fair,
His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir.

}

}

They call'd her Emma; for the beauteous dame
Who gave the virgin birth, had born the name.
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd;
For in the child the mother's charms improv'd.
Yet as when little round his knees she play'd;
He call'd her oft in fport his Nut-brown Maid:
The friends and tenants took the fondling word;
As ftill they please, who imitate their lord:
Usage confirm'd what fancy had begun:
The mutual terms around the lands were known;
And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one.
As with her ftature, ftill her charms encreas'd;
Thro' all the isle her beauty was confefs'd.
Oh! what perfections must that virgin share,
Who fairest is esteem'd, where all are fair?
From diftant fhires repair the noble youth,
And find, report for once had leffen'd truth.
By wonder first, and then by passion mov'd,

They came; they faw; they marvell'd: and they lov’d.
By publick praises, and by fecret fighs

Each own'd the general pow'r of Emma's eyes.

In tilts and turnaments the valiant strove,
By glorious deeds to purchase Emma's love.
In gentle verfe the witty told their flame,
And grac'd their choiceft fongs with Emma's name.
In vain they combated, in vain they writ:
Useless their strength, and impotent their wit.
Great Venus only muft direct the dart,

Which elfe will never reach the fair one's heart,

Spight of th' attempts of force, and foft effects of art.
Great Venus must prefer the happy one:

In Henry's caufe her favour must be shown:

And Emma, of mankind, must love but him alone.

}

While thefe in publick to the castle came,
And by their grandeur justify'd their flame;
More fecret ways the careful Henry takes;
His fquires, his arms, and equipage forsakes:
In borrow'd name, and falfe attire array'd,
Oft he finds means to fee the beauteous maid.

When Emma hunts, in huntsman's habit drest,
Henry on foot pursues the bounding beast.
In his right hand his beachen pole he bears:
And graceful at his fide his horn he wears.
Still to the glade, where she has bent her way,
With knowing skill he drives the future prey.
Bids her decline the hill, and fhun the brake;
And fhews the path her steed may safest take.
Directs her fpear to fix the glorious wound;
Pleas'd in his toils to have her triumph crown'd;
And blows her praifes in no common found.

A falc'ner Henry is, when Emma hawks:
With her of tarfels, and of lures he talks.
Upon his wrift the tow'ring merlin stands;
Practis'd to rife, and stoop at her commands.
And when fuperior now the bird has flown,
And headlong brought the tumbling quarry down;
With humble rev'rence he accofts the fair;
And with the honour'd feather decks her hair.
Yet ftill, as from the Iportive field she goes,
His downcaft eye reveals his inward woes,
And by his look and forrow is expreft,
A nobler game purfu'd than bird or beast.

A fhepherd now along the plain he roves;
And, with his jolly pipe, delights the groves.
The neighb'ring fwains around the stranger throng,
Or to admire, or emulate his fong:

}