Hester Lynch SALUSBURY

This wild irregular Measure is a sort of Favourite with me, I learnt it in Vanbrugh’s Esop—a sweet Comedy though impracticable upon the Stage.—my Three Warnings is of the same kind, & so is a Fable imitated from Mademoiselle Bernard which I printed in the Saint James’s Chronicle about two Months or three, before I was married¹. I would write out the original here but I cannot find it, nor know I where her Poems are to be found, this Fable however beginning.

L’Imagination Amante du Bonheur Sans cesse le desire, et sans cesse l’appelle, is to be seen in Buffier’s Grammar² among the Collection of Verses, I where I first took a fancy to amplify & imitate it as may be seen in the Attempt over Leaf …

Struck with his Charms whom all admire
Whose Beauties colder Bosoms fire,
Imagination ventur’d forth
    To try if Fortune would discover
    The haunts of Happiness her Lover
Nor fear’d the Frowns of Wit or Worth
No blame could on her Choice be thrown
When once the Object’s name was known.
    To Love’s gay Temple first She flies
    And darts around her piercing Eyes,
    And is my Hero here She cries?
    Perhaps he may the God replies,
But freely search our Groves around
        Nor think yourself confin’d;
His Name our Echoes all resound
        Perhaps his Form You’ll find.
The Nymph was pleas’d, her Search renew’d
Thro’ each soft Maze her Love persued,
At ev’ry Turn his Name She heard,
And much She hop’d and much She fear’d.
Till as She ran with rapid Force
Fair Delicacy check’d her Course.
With eye severe the lovely Maid,
Blush’d for her Friend while thus She said
“; “;I never thought to see you here
“; “;Without a Veil too—Fye my Dear!
“; “;To seek your Lover! and is this
“; “; A likely Seat for sober Bliss?
“; “;Believe my Words and quick recede
“; “;No Happiness lives here indeed.”; ”;
    Imagination stood corrected
Then swiftly from her Presence flew;
    And soon her wand’ring steps directed
T’Ambition’s Palace now in View.
    Fix’d on a Rock of steep Ascent
        The glitt’ring Fabric stood;
    The way was slipp’ry as She went
        And wet with human blood.
    Her Lover’s Form on high was plac’d
        To tempt her Steps along;
    But when the Phantom She embrac’d
        It vanish’d and was gone.
From hence with trembling haste She fled,
And to the Realms of Riches sped;
Consumptive Care, & dropsied Pride,
And tinsel’d Splendour here She spied;
Dignity Pomp and Pow’r She saw,
And Fashion that keeps Fools in awe,
Nor aught was wanting more or less,
Save what She sought for—Happiness.
What has our Heroine next to do
Her Journey She begins to rue,
For why! we are all at Sea again,
        No Places now remain
To try our Fortune in tis plain;—
And yet this foolish luckless Love
    Would let her have no rest:
Though ’gainst it all she could she Strove
    Still it would flutter in her Breast.
While thus She thought, and would have spoke
Sudden a Voice the Silence broke.

    “; “;Come to my Cott despairing Maid,
    “; “;’Tis mine alone to give you Aid;
    “; “;Take my Advice you’ll quickly find
    “; “;Your coy capricious Spark grow kind;
    “; “;Come to my Cott, and live with me
    “; “;In unreproved Pleasures free.”; ”;³
    “; “;Content, that smooths the Bed of Age,
    “; “;Meek Peace that loves the Hermitage
    “; “;And Contemplation—hoary Sage!
    “; “;With me long time have deign’d to dwell,
    “; “;And dignified my mossy Cell.”; ”;
        If you such Company can bear
        And will a while inhabit there,
            Nor more your Search renew,
        Your Lover will no longer fly
        Tis his to court when we deny
            And fly when we pursue:
        The Virgin weigh’d & found her wise,
        Nor scom’d to own herself to blame;
            But took fair Piety’s Advice
            Uncall’d the Lover came.

Footnotes

1. Published in the Saint James’s Chronicle 8-10 September 1763.↩︎
2. Grammaire françoise sur in plan nouveau 1709.↩︎
3. Milton, L'Allegro, line 40.↩︎