'Twas at the time the golden Sun doth rise, And with his Beams enlights the azure skies, When lo a Troop in Silver Arms drew near, The glorious Sun did nere so bright appear; Dire Scarlet Plumes adorn'd their haughty Crests, And crescent Shields did shade their shining Brests; Down from their shoulders hung a Panthers Hide, A Bow and Quiver ratled by their side; Their hands a knotty well try'd Speare did bear, Jocund they seem'd, and quite devoyd of fear. These warlike Virgins were, that do reside Near Thermodons smooth Banks and verdant side, The Plains of Themiscyre their Birth do boast, Thalestris now did head the beauteous Host; She emulating that Illustrious Dame, Who to the aid of Troy and Priam came, And her who the Retulian Prince did aid, Though dearly both for their Assistance paid. But fear she scorn'd, nor the like fate did dread, Her Host she often to the field had lead, As oft in Triumph had return'd again, Glory she only sought for all her pain.
This Martial Queen had heard how lowdly fame, Eccho'd our Conquerors redoubted Name, Her Soul his Conduct and his Courage fir'd, To see the Heroe she so much admir'd; And to Hyrcania for this cause she went, Where Alexander (wholly then intent On Triumphs and such Military sport) At Truce with War held both his Camp and Court. And while before the Town she did attend Her Messengers return, she saw ascend A cloud of Dust, that cover'd all the skie, And still at every pause there stroke her eye. The interrupted Beams of Burnisht Gold, As dust the Splendour hid, or did unfold; Loud Neighings of the Steeds, and Trumpets sound Fill'd all the Air, and eccho'd from the ground: The gallant Greeks with a brisk March drew near, And their great Chief did at their Head appear. And now come up to th'Amazonian Band, They made a Hault and a respectful Stand: And both the Troops (with like amazement strook) Did each on other with deep silence look. Th'Heroick Queen (whose high pretence to War Cancell'd the bashful Laws and nicer Bar Of Modesty, which did her Sex restrain) First boldly did advance before her Train, And thus she spake. All but a God in Name, And that a debt Time owes unto thy Fame.
This was the first Essay of this young Lady in Poetry, but finding the Task she had undertaken hard, she laid it by till Practice and more time should make her equal to so great a Work.
To the Queen.
As those who pass the Alps do say, The Rocks which first oppose their way, And so amazing-High do show, By fresh Ascents appear but low, And when they come unto the last, They scorn the dwarfish Hills th'ave past.
So though my Muse at her first flight, Thought she had chose the greatest height, And (imp'd with Alexander's Name) Believ'd there was no further Fame: Behold an Eye wholly Divine Vouchsaf'd upon my Verse to Shine! And from that time I'gan to treat With Pitty him the World call'd Great; To smile at his exalted Fate, Unequal (though Gigantick) State. I saw that Pitch was not sublime, Compar'd with this which now I climb; His Glories sunk, and were unseen, When once appear'd the Heav'n-born Queen: Victories, Laurels, Conquer'd Kings, Took place among inferiour things.
Now surely I shall reach the Clouds, For none besides such Vertue shrouds: Having scal'd this with holy Strains, Nought higher but the Heaven remains! No more I'll Praise on them bestow, Who to ill Deeds their Glories owe; Who build their Babels of Renown, Upon the poor oppressed Crown, Whole Kingdoms do depopulate, To raise a Proud and short-Liv'd State: I prize no more such Frantick Might, Than his that did with Wind-Mills Fight: No, give me Prowess, that with Charms Of Grace and Goodness, not with Harms, Erects a Throne i'th' inward Parts, And Rules mens Wills, but with their Hearts; Who with Piety and Vertue thus Propitiates God, and Conquers us. O that now like Araunah here, Altars of Praises I could rear, Suiting her worth, which might be seen Like a Queens Present, to a Queen!
'Alone she stands for Vertues Cause, When all decry, upholds her Laws: When to Banish her is the Strife, Keeps her unexil'd in her Life; Guarding her matchless Innocence From Storms of boldest Impudence; In spight of all the Scoffs and Rage, And Persecutions of the Age, Owns Vertues Altar, feeds the Flame, Adores her much-derided Name; While impiously her hands they tie, Loves her in her Captivity; Like Perseus saves her, when she stands Expos'd to the Leviathans. So did bright Lamps once live in Urns, So Camphire in the water burns, So Ætna's Flames do ne'er go out, Though Snows do freeze her head without.'