A book of women's verse

by Unknown

‘EPHELIA’

16?-16?

25. Love’s First Approach

Strephon I saw, and started at the sight,

And interchangeably looked red and white;

I felt my blood run swiftly to my heart,

And a chill trembling seize each outward part:

My breath grew short, my pulse did quicker beat,

My heart did heave, as it would change its seat:

A faint cold sweat o’er all my body spread,

A giddy megrim wheel’d about my head:

When for the reason of this change I sought,

I found my eyes had all the mischief wrought;

For they my sort to Strephon had betray’d,

And my weak heart his willing victim made:

The traitors, conscious of the treason

They had committed ’gainst my reason,

Looked down with such a bashful guilty fear,

As made their fault to every eye appear.

Though the first fatal look too much had done,

The lawless wanderers would still gaze on,

Kind looks repeat, and glances steal, till they

Had looked my liberty and heart away:

Great Love, I yield; send no more darts in vain,

I am already fond of my soft chain;

Proud of my fetters, so pleased with my state,

That I the very thought of Freedom hate.

O mighty Love! thy art and power join,

To make his frozen breast as warm as mine;

But if thou try’st, and canst not make him kind,

In Love such pleasant, real sweets I find,

That, though attended with despair it be,

’Tis better still than a wild liberty.

26. Song

You wrong me, Strephon, when you say,

I’m jealous or severe,

Did I not see you kiss and play

With all you came a-near?

Say, did I ever chide for this,

Or cast one jealous eye

On the bold nymphs, that snatch’d my bliss

While I stood wishing by.

Yet though I never disapproved

This modish liberty,

I thought in them you only loved

Change and variety:

I vainly thought my charms so strong,

And you so much my slave,

No nymph had power to do me wrong,

Or break the chains I gave.

But when you seriously address

With all your winning charms,

Unto a servile shepherdess,

I’ll throw you from my arms:

I’d rather choose you should make love

To every face you see,

Than Mopsa’s dull admirer prove,

And let her rival me.

27. To one that asked me why I loved J. G.

Why do I love? go ask the glorious sun

Why every day it round the world doth run:

Ask Thames and Tiber why they ebb and flow:

Ask damask roses why in June they blow:

Ask ice and hail the reason why they’re cold:

Decaying beauties, why they will grow old:

They’ll tell thee, Fate, that everything doth move,

Inforces them to this, and me to love.

There is no reason for our love or hate,

’Tis irresistible as Death or Fate;

’Tis not his face; I’ve sense enough to see,

That is not good, though doated on by me:

Nor is’t his tongue, that has this conquest won,

For that at least is equalled by my own:

His carriage can to none obliging be,

’Tis rude, affected, full of vanity:

Strangely ill natur’d, peevish and unkind,

Unconstant, false, to jealousy inclin’d:

His temper could not have so great a power,

’Tis mutable, and changes every hour:

Those vigorous years that women so adore

Are past in him: he’s twice my age and more;

And yet I love this false, this worthless man,

With all the passion that a woman can;

Doat on his imperfections, though I spy

Nothing to love; I love, and know not why.

Since ’tis decreed in the dark book of Fate,

That I should love, and he should be ingrate.

28. Mocked in Anger

Farewell, ungrateful man, sail to some land,

Where treachery and ingratitude command;

There meet with all the plagues that man can bear,

And be as wretched as I’m happy here.

’Twere vain to wish that Heav’n would punish thee,

’Twere vain to invocate the wind and sea,

To fright thee with rude storms, for surely Fate

Without a wish, will punish the ingrate.

Its justice and thy crimes Heav’n so well knows,

That all its creatures it will make thy foes

(If they’re not so already), but none can

Love such a worthless, such a sordid man;

And though we’ve now no public enemies,

And you’re too strong for private piracies,

Yet is the vessel in more danger far,

Than when with all our neighbours we had war:

For all that know what guest it doth contain,

Will strive to fire or sink it in the main.

Plagued for thy sake, they all will reckon thee

The Achan, or accursèd thing to be.

29. Fortune Mistaken

Though Fortune have so far from me removed

All that I wish, or all I ever loved,

And robbed our Europe of its chief delight,

To bless the Africk world with Strephon’s sight:

There with a lady beauteous, rich and young,

Kind, witty, virtuous, the best born among

The Africk maids, presents this happy swain,

Not to oblige him, but to give me pain:

Then to my ears, by tattling fame, conveys

The tale with large additions; and to raise

My anger higher, tells me ’tis designed

That Hymen’s rites their hands and hearts must bind.

Now she believes my business done, and I

At the dire news would fetch a sigh and die:

But she’s deceived, I in my Strephon grow,

And if he’s happy, I must needs be so:

Or if Fate could our interests disjoin,

At his good fortune I should ne’er repine,

Though ’twere my ruin; but I exult to hear,

Insulting Mopsa I no more shall fear;

No more he’ll smile upon that ugly Witch:

In that one thought I’m happy, great and rich.

And blind dame Fortune, meaning to destroy,

Has filled my soul with extasies of joy:

To him I love she’s given a happy fate,

And quite destroyed and ruined her I hate.

30. To Phylocles, inviting him to Friendship

Best of thy sex! if sacred friendship can

Dwell in the bosom of inconstant man,

As cold and clear as ice, as snow unstained,

With Love’s loose crimes unsullied, unprofaned,

Or you a woman with that name dare trust,

And think to friendship’s ties we can be just,

In a strict league together we’ll combine,

And [ ] friendship’s bright example shine.

We will forget the difference of sex,

Nor shall the world’s rude censure us perplex

Think me all man: my soul is masculine,

And capable of as great things as thine.

I can be generous, just and brave,

Secret and silent as the grave,

And if I cannot yield relief,

I’ll sympathise in all thy grief.

I will not have a thought from thee I’ll hide,

In all my actions thou shalt be my guide;

In every joy of mine thou shalt have share,

And I will bear a part in all thy care.

Why do I vainly talk of what we’ll do?

We’ll mix our souls, you shall be me, I you;

And both so one it shall be hard to say

Which is Phylocles, which Ephelia.

Our ties shall be as strong as the chains of Fate,

Conquerors and kings our joys shall emulate;

Forgotten friendship, held at first divine,

To its native purity we will refine.

31. My Fate

Oh cruel Fate, when wilt thou weary be?

When satisfied with tormenting me?

What have I e’er designed, but thou hast crost?

All that I wished to gain by thee, I’ve lost:

From my first infancy, thy spite thou’st shown

And from my cradle, I’ve thy malice known;

Thou snatch’st my parents in their tender age,

Made me a victim to the furious rage

Of cruel fortune, as severe as thee;

Yet I resolved to brave my destiny,

And did, with more than female constancy.

Not all thy malice could extort a tear,

Nor all thy rage could ever teach me fear:

Still as thy power diminished my estate

My fortitude did my desires abate,

In every state I did my mind content

And nicely did thy cross designs prevent;

Seeing thy plots did unsuccessful prove,

As a sure torment next, thou taught’st me love:

But here thou wert deceived too, for my swain,

As soon as he perceived, pitied my pain:

He met my passion with an equal fire,

Both sweetly languished in a soft desire:

Clasped in each other’s arms we sat all day,

Each smile I gave he’d with a kiss repay:

In every hour an age’s bliss we reaped,

And lavish favours on each other heaped.

Now sure (thought I) destiny doth relent,

And her insatiate tyranny repent:

But how mistaken! how deceived was I!

Alas! she only raised my hopes thus high,

To cast me down with greater violence;

For midst our joys, she snatched my shepherd hence

To Africa: yet though I was neglected,

I bore it better than could be expected:

Without regret I let him cross the sea,

When I was told it for his good would be,

But when I heard the nuptial knot he’d tied,

And made an Africk nymph his happy bride:

My temper then I could no longer hold,

I cursed my fate, I cursed the power of gold,

I cursed the easiness believed at first,

And (Heaven forgive me) Him I almost cursed.

Hearing my loss, to him was mighty gain;

I checked my rage, and soon grew calm again:

Malicious Fate, seeing this would not do,

Made Strephon wretched, to make me so too.

Of all her plagues, this was the weightiest stroke,

This blow my resolved heart hath almost broke:

Yet, spite of Fate, this comfort I’ve in store,

She’s no room left for any ill thing more.