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My patience I will put in ure,
My charity I will extend;
The helpless now I will befriend :
Thus she continued year by year
In doing good to every one ; Her fame was noised every where, To young
and old the same was known, That she no company would mind, Who were to vanity inclin'd.
Mean while Ulysses fought for fame,
'Mongst Trojans hazarding his life : Young gallants, hearing of her name,
Came flocking for to tempt his wife: For she was lovely, young, and fair, No lady might with her compare.
With costly gifts and jewels fine,
They did endeavour her to win ;
For to allure her unto sin :
With modesty and comely grace
Their wanton suits she did denyé : No tempting charms could e'er deface
Her dearest husband's memorye; But constant she would still remain, Hopeing to see him once again.
Her book her dayly comfort was,
And that she often did peruse;
Powder and paint she ne'er would use.
She in her needle took delight,
And likewise in her spinning-wheel;
Did use the distaff, and the reel :
Sometimes she would bewail the loss
And absence of her dearest love :
Her fortune on the waves to prove.
At length the ten years siege of Troy
Did end; in flames the city burn'd;
To see the towers to ashes turn'd:
O blame her not if she was glad,
When she her lord again had seen.
A long time absent thou hast been:
Fair ladies all, example take;
And hence a worthy lesson learn,
And vice from virtue to discern:
TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS,
TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS.
By Col. Richard Lovelace: from the volume of his poems, intitled “Lucasta, Lond. 1649,” 12mo. The elegance of this writer's manner would be more admired if it had somewhat more of simplicity.
Tell me not, sweet, I am unkinde,
That from the nunnerie
To warre and armes I flie.
True, a new mistresse now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such,
you too shall adore;
Lov'd I not honour more.
VALENTINE AND URSINE.
The old story-book of Valentine and Orson (which suggested the plan of this tale, but it is not strictly followed in it) was originally a translation from the French, being one of their earliest attempts at romance. See " Le Bibliotheque de Romans, &c.”
The circumstance of the bridge of bells is taken from the old metrical legend of Sir Bevis, and has also been copied in the Seven Champions. The original lines are,
“Over the dyke a bridge there lay,
Sign. E. iv.
In the Editor's folio MS. was an old poem on this subject, in a wretched corrupt state, unworthy the press : from which were taken such particulars as could be adopted.
PART THE FIRST.
Hen Flora 'gins to decke the fields
To good Saint Valentine !