No sooner I pronounced _Celindas_ name, But Troops of wing'd Pow'rs did chant the same: Not those the Poets Bows and Arrows lend, But such as on the Altar do attend. _Celinda_ nam'd, Flow'rs spring up from the Ground, Excited meerly with the Charming Sound. _Celinda_, the Courts Glory, and its fear, The gaz'd at Wonder, where she does appear. _Celinda_ great in Birth, greater in Meen, Yet none so humble as this Fair-One's seen. Her Youth and Beauty justly might disdain, But the least Pride her Glories ne're did stain. _Celinda_ of each State th'ambitious Strife, At once a Noble Virgin, and a Wife Who, while her Gallant Lord in Forraign parts Adorns his Youth with all accomplisht Arts, Grows ripe at home in Vertue, more than Years, And in each Grace a Miracle appears! When other of her Age a madding go, To th' Park and Plays, and ev'ry publick Show, Proud from their Parents Bondage they have broke, Though justly freed, she still does wear the Yoke; Preferring more her Mothers Friend to be, Than Idol of the Towns Loose-Gallantry. On her she to the Temple does attend, Where they their Blessed Hours both save and spend. They Smile, they Joy, together they do Pray, You'd think two Bodies did One Soul obey: Like Angels thus they do reflect their Bliss, And their bright Vertues each the other kiss. Return young Lord, while thou abroad dost rome The World to see, thou loosest Heaven at Home. ON THE Dutchess of Grafton _Under the Name of_ ALINDA. A SONG. I. Th'ambitious Eye that seeks alone, Where Beauties Wonders most are shown; Of all that bounteous Heaven displays, Let him on bright _Alinda_ gaze; And in her high Example see, All can admir'd, or wisht-for, be! II. An unmatch't Form, Mind like endow'd, Estate, and Title great and proud; A Charge Heaven dares to few commit, So few, like her, can manage it; Without all Blame or Envy bear, The being Witty, Great and Fair! III. So well these Murd'ring Weapons weild, As first Herself with them to shield, Then slaughter none in proud Disport, Destroy those she invites to Court: Great are her Charmes, but Vertue more, She wounds no Hearts, though All adore. IV. 'Tis Am'rous Beauty Love invites, A Passion, like it self, excites: The Paragon, though all admire, Kindles in none a fond desire: No more than those the Kings Renown And State applaud, affect his Crown. _These following Fragments among many more were found among her Papers._ Penelope to Ulysses. Return my dearest Lord, at length return, Let me no longer your sad absence mourn, _Ilium_ in Dust, does no more Work afford, No more Employment for your Wit or Sword.