Lives of the Poets Part 26

Through thicke and thinne, all night, all day, she drived, Withouten comfort, companie, or guide, Her plaints and teares with every thought revived, She heard and saw her greefes, but nought beside.

But when the sunne his burning chariot dived In Thetis wave, and wearie teame untide, On Jordans sandie bankes her course she staid, At last, there downe she light, and downe she laid.

4.

Her teares, her drinke; her food, her sorrowings, This was her diet that unhappie night: But sleepe (that sweet repose and quiet brings) To ease the greefes of discontented wight, Spred foorth his tender, soft, and nimble wings, In his dull armes foulding the virgin bright; And love, his mother, and the graces kept Strong watch and warde, while this faire ladie slept.

5.

The birds awakte her with their morning song, Their warbling musicke pearst her tender eare, The murmuring brookes and whistling windes among The ratling boughes, and leaves, their parts did beare; Her eies unclos'd beheld the groves along Of swaines and shepherd groomes, that dwellings weare: And that sweet noise, birds, winds, and waters sent, Provokte againe the virgin to lament.

6.

Her plaints were interrupted with a sound That seem'd from thickest bushes to proceed, Some iolly shepheard sung a l.u.s.tie round, And to his voice had tun'd his oaten reed; Thither she went, an old man there she found, (At whose right hand his little flock did feed) Sat making baskets, his three sonnes among, That learn'd their father's art, and learn'd his song.

7.

Beholding one in s.h.i.+ning armes appeare, The seelie man and his were sore dismaid; But sweet Erminia comforted their feare, Her ventall vp, her visage open laid.

You happie folke, of heau'n beloued deare, Work on (quoth she) vpon your harmlesse traid, These dreadfull armes, I beare, no warfare bring To your sweet toile, nor those sweet tunes you sing.

8.

But father, since this land, these townes and towres, Destroied are with sword, with fire and spoile, How may it be, unhurt, that you and yours In safetie thus, applie your harmlesse toile?

My sonne (quoth he) this pore estate of ours Is euer safe from storme of warlike broile; This wildernesse doth vs in safetie keepe, No thundring drum, no trumpet breakes our sleepe.

9.

Haply iust heau'n's defence and s.h.i.+eld of right, Doth loue the innocence of simple swaines, The thunderbolts on highest mountains light, And seld or neuer strike the lower plaines: So kings haue cause to feare Bellonaes might, Not they whose sweat and toile their dinner gaines, Nor ever greedie soldier was entised By pouertie, neglected and despised.

10.

O pouertie, chefe of the heau'nly brood, Dearer to me than wealth or kingly crowne!

No wish for honour, thirst of other's good, Can moue my hart, contented with my owne: We quench our thirst with water of this flood, Nor fear we poison should therein be throwne: These little flocks of sheepe and tender goates Giue milke for food, and wooll to make us coates.

11.

We little wish, we need but little wealth, From cold and hunger vs to cloath and feed; These are my sonnes, their care preserues from stealth Their father's flocks, nor servants moe I need: Amid these groues I walke oft for my health, And to the fishes, birds, and beastes giue heed, How they are fed, in forrest, spring and lake, And their contentment for ensample take.

12.

Time was (for each one hath his doting time, These siluer locks were golden tresses than) That countrie life I hated as a crime, And from the forrests sweet contentment ran, To Memphis stately pallace would I clime, And there became the mightie Caliphes man, And though I but a simple gardner weare, Yet could I marke abuses, see and heare.

13.

Entised on with hope of future gaine, I suffred long what did my soule displease; But when my youth was spent, my hope was vaine, I felt my native strength at last decrease; I gan my losse of l.u.s.tie yeeres complaine, And wisht I had enjoy'd the countries peace; I bod the court farewell, and with content My later age here have I quiet spent.

14.

While thus he spake, Erminia husht and still His wise discourses heard, with great attention, His speeches graue those idle fancies kill, Which in her troubled soule bred such dissention; After much thought reformed was her will, Within those woods to dwell was her intention, Till fortune should occasion new afford, To turne her home to her desired lord.

15.

She said, therefore, O shepherd fortunate!

That troubles some didst whilom feele and proue, Yet liuest now in this contented state, Let my mishap thy thoughts to pitie moue, To entertaine me, as a willing mate In shepherd's life, which I admire and loue; Within these pleasant groues, perchance, my hart Of her discomforts may vnload some part.

16.

If gold or wealth, of most esteemed deare, If iewells rich, thou diddest hold in prise, Such store thereof, such plentie have I seen, As to a greedie minde might well suffice: With that downe trickled many a siluer teare, Two christall streams fell from her watrie eies; Part of her sad misfortunes than she told, And wept, and with her wept that shepherd old.

17.

With speeches kinde, he gan the virgin deare Towards his cottage gently home to guide; His aged wife there made her homely cheare, Yet welcomde her, and plast her by her side.

The princesse dond a poore pastoraes geare, A kerchiefe course vpon her head she tide; But yet her gestures and her lookes (I gesse) Were such as ill beseem'd a shepherdesse.

18.

Not those rude garments could obscure, and hide The heau'nly beautie of her angel's face, Nor was her princely ofspring d.a.m.nifide, Or ought disparag'de, by those labours bace; Her little flocks to pasture would she guide, And milke her goates, and in their folds them place, Both cheese and b.u.t.ter could she make, and frame Her selfe to please the shepherd and his dame.

[Footnote 82: Preface to his Fables. Dr. J.]

[Footnote 83: This speech has been retrieved, from a paper printed at that time, by the writers of the Parliamentary History. Dr.J.]

[Footnote 84: Parliamentary History, vol. xii. Dr. J.]

[Footnote 85: Life of Waller prefixed to an edition of his works, published in 1773, by Percival Stockdale. C.]

[Footnote 86: Sir John Davies, ent.i.tled, Nosce Teipsum. This oracle expounded in two elegies; 1. Of Humane Knowledge: 2. Of the Soule of Man and the Immortalitie thereof, 1599. R.]

[Footnote 87: It has been conjectured that our poet was either son or grandson of Charles, third son of sir John Stepney, the first baronet of that family. See Granger's History, vol. ii. p. 396. Edit. 8vo. 1775. Mr.

Cole says, the poet's father was a grocer. Cole's ma.n.u.scripts, in Brit.

Mus. C.]

POMFRET.

Of Mr. John Pomfret nothing is known but from a slight and confused account, prefixed to his poems by a nameless friend; who relates, that he was the son of the Rev. Mr. Pomfret, rector of Luton, in Bedfords.h.i.+re; that he was bred at Cambridge[87], entered into orders, and was rector of Malden, in Bedfords.h.i.+re, and might have risen in the church; but that, when he applied to Dr. Compton, bishop of London, for inst.i.tution to a living of considerable value, to which he had been presented, he found a troublesome obstruction raised by a malicious interpretation of some pa.s.sage in his Choice; from which it was inferred, that he considered happiness as more likely to be found in the company of a mistress than of a wife.

This reproach was easily obliterated; for it had happened to Pomfret, as to almost all other men who plan schemes of life; he had departed from his purpose, and was then married.

The malice of his enemies had, however, a very fatal consequence: the delay constrained his attendance in London, where he caught the smallpox, and died in 1703, in the thirty-sixth year of his age.

He published his poems in 1699; and has been always the favourite of that cla.s.s of readers, who, without vanity or criticism, seek only their own amus.e.m.e.nt.

His Choice exhibits a system of life adapted to common notions, and equal to common expectations; such a state as affords plenty and tranquillity, without exclusion of intellectual pleasures. Perhaps no composition in our language has been oftener perused than Pomfret's Choice.

In his other poems there is an easy volubility; the pleasure of smooth metre is afforded to the ear, and the mind is not oppressed with ponderous, or entangled with intricate, sentiment. He pleases many; and he who pleases many must have some species of merit.

[Footnote 87: He was of Queen's college there, and, by the University Register, took his bachelor's degree in 1684, and master's in 1698. His father was of Trinity.]