I fear my lord is slain, quoth she,
He stays so from Penelope. 90
At length the ten years siege of Troy
Did end: in flames the city burn'd;
And to the Grecians was great joy,
To see the towers to ashes turn'd:
Then came Ulysses home to see 95
His constant, dear, Penelope.
O blame her not if she was glad,
When she her lord again had seen.
Thrice-welcome home, my dear, she said,
A long time absent thou hast been: 100
The wars shall never more deprive
Me of my lord whilst I'm alive.
Fair ladies all example take;
And hence a worthy lesson learn,
All youthful follies to forsake, 105
And vice from virtue to discern:
And let all women strive to be,
As constant as Penelope.
FOOTNOTES:
[429] [use.]
XI.
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.