Now lofty Calidon in Ruins lies;
All Ages, all Degrees unfluice their Eyes;
And Heav'n and Earth refound with Murmurs,
Matrons and Maidens beat their Breasts, and tear
Their Habits, and root up their scatter'd Hair:
The wretched Father, Father now no more, be
With Sorrow funk, lies proftrate on the Floor,
Deforms his hoary Locks with Duft obfcene,
And curfes Age, and loaths a Life prolong'd with
By Steel her stubborn Soul his Mother freed,
And punish'd on her felf her impious Deed.
Had I a hundred Tongues, a Wit so large
As could their hundred Offices discharge;
Had Phœbus all his Helicon bestow'd
In all the Streams inspiring all the God ;
Thofe Tongues, that Wit, thofe Streams, that God
Would offer to describe his Sifters Pain: [in vain
They beat their Breasts with many a bruizing Blow,
Till they turn❜d livid, and corrupt the Snow.
The Corps they cherish, while the Corps remains,
And exercife and rub with fruitless Pains;
And when to Fun'ral Flames 'tis born away,
They kifs the Bed on which the Body lay:
And when those Fun'ral Flames no longer burn,
(The Duft compos'd within a pious Urn)
Ev'n in that Urn their Brother they confefs,
And hug it in their Arms,and to their Bofoms prefs.
His Tomb is rais'd; then, ftretch'd along the
Ground,
Those living Monuments his Tomb furround:
Ev'n to his Name, infcrib'd, their Tears they pay,
Till Tears and Kiffes wear his Name away.
But Cynthia now had all her Fury spent,
Not with lefs Ruin than a Race, content:
Excepting Gorge, perish'd all the Seed,
And Her whom Heav'n for Hercules decreed.
Satiate at last, no longer the purfu'd
The weeping Sifters; but with Wings endu❜d,
And horny Beaks, and sent to flit in Air;
Who yearly round the Tomb in feather'd Flocks
[repair.
Sigifmonda and Guifcardo,
HILE Norman Tancred in Salerno
The Title of a gracious Prince he
Till turn'd a Tyrant in his latter Days,
He loft the Luftre of his former Praise;
And from the bright Meridian where he flood,
Defcending, dipp'd his Hands in Lovers Blood.
This Prince, of Fortune's Favour long poffefs'd,
Yet was with one fair Daughter only blefs'd;
And bless'd he might have been with her alone:
But oh! how much more happy, had he none!
She was his Care, his Hope, and his Delight,
Moft in his Thought, and ever in his Sight:
Next, nay beyond his Life, he held her dear
She liv'd by him, and now he liv'd in her.
For this, when ripe for Marriage, he delay'd
Her Nuptial Bands, and kept her long a Maid,
As envying any else should share a Part
Of what was his, and claiming all her Heart.
At length, as Publick Decency requir'd,
And all his Vaffals eagerly defir'd,
With Mind averfe, he rather underwent
His Peoples Will, than gave his own Consent:
So was the torn, as from a Lover's Side,
And made almost in his despite a Bride.
Short were her Marriage-Joys; for in the Prime Of Youth, her Lord expir'd before his time: And to her Father's Coust, in little space Restor❜d anew, she held a higher Place;
More lov'd, and more exalted into Grace. S
This Princess fresh and young, and fair, and wife, The worshipp'd Idol of her Father's Eyes,
Did all her Sex in ev'ry Grace exceed,
And had more Wit befide than Women need.: Youth, Health, and Eafe, and most an amorous
To fecond Nuptials had her Thoughts inclin'd:
And former Joys had left a fecret Sting behind.j
But prodigal in ev'ry other Grant,
Her Sire left unfupply'd her only Want;
And fhe, betwixt her Modesty and Pride,
Her Wishes, which she could not help, would hide.
Refolv'd at laft to lose no longer Time;
And yet to please her felf without a Crime,
She caft her Eyes around the Court, to find
A worthy Subject fuiting to her Mind,
To him in holy Nuptials to be ty'd,
A feeming Widow, and a secret Bride.
Among the Train of Courtiers, one she found With all the Gifts of bounteous Nature crown'd, Of gentle Blood; but one whose niggard Fate Had fet him far below her high Estate; Guifcard his Name was call'd, of blooming Age, Now Squire to Tancred, and before his Page:
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