The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI

Name: The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI
Author: Behn, Aphra

Behn, Aphra

English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700

To disesteem the noblest Excellence;
    And no Encouragement to _Prophets_ shown,
    Who in past _Ages_ got so great Renown.
    Though _Fortune_ Elevated thee above
    Its _scanty Gratitude_, or _fickle Love_;
    Yet, _sullen_ with the World, untir’d by Age,
    Scorning th’ unthinking _Crowd_, thou quit’st the _Stage_.




A PINDARIC POEM _to the Reverend Doctor_ Burnet, _on the Honour he did
me of Enquiring after me and my_ MUSE.

_By Mrs._ A. Behn.


                                  (1)

    When Old _Rome’s_ Candidates aspir’d to Fame,
      And did the Peoples Suffrages obtain
    For some great Consul, or a _Cæsar’s_ Name;
      The Victor was not half so Pleas’d and Vain,
    As I, when given the Honour of your Choice,
    And Preference had in that one single Voice;
        That Voice, from whence Immortal Wit still flows;
    Wit that at once is Solemn all and Sweet,
        Where Noblest Eloquence and Judgment shows
    The Inspiring Mind Illustrious, Rich, and Great;
    A Mind that can inform your wond’rous Pen
        In all that’s Perfect and Sublime:
    And with an Art beyond the Wit of Men,
        On what e’re Theam, on what e’re great Design,
    It carries a Commanding Force, like that of Writ Divine.

                                  (2)

    With Pow’rful Reasoning drest in finest Sence,
        A thousand ways my Soul you can Invade,
    And spight of my Opinions weak Defence,
        Against my Will, you Conquer and Perswade.
    Your Language soft as Love, betrays the Heart,
    And at each Period fixes a Resistless Dart,
        While the fond list’ner, like a Maid undone,
        Inspir’d with Tenderness she fears to own;
    In vain essays her Freedom to Regain:
    The fine Ideas in her Soul remain,
    And Please, and Charm, even while they Grieve and Pain.

                                  (3)

    But yet how well this Praise can Recompense
    For all the welcome Wounds (before) you’d given!
        Scarce any thing but You and Heaven
        Such Grateful Bounties can dispense,
    As that Eternity of Life can give;
    So fam’d by you my Verse Eternally shall live:
    Till now, my careless Muse no higher strove
    T’inlarge her Glory, and extend her Wings;
        Than underneath _Parnassus_ Grove,
    To Sing of Shepherds, and their humble Love;
    But never durst, like _Cowly_, tune her Strings,
    To sing of Heroes and of Kings.
    But since by an Authority Divine,
    She is allow’d a more exalted Thought;
    She will be valu’d now as Currant Coyn;
    Whose Stamp alone gives it the Estimate,
    Tho’ out of an inferiour Metal wrought.

                                  (4)

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VIBehn, Aphra

General

The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI

Behn, Aphra

English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700

To disesteem the noblest Excellence;
    And no Encouragement to _Prophets_ shown,
    Who in past _Ages_ got so great Renown.
    Though _Fortune_ Elevated thee above
    Its _scanty Gratitude_, or _fickle Love_;
    Yet, _sullen_ with the World, untir’d by Age,
    Scorning th’ unthinking _Crowd_, thou quit’st the _Stage_.




A PINDARIC POEM _to the Reverend Doctor_ Burnet, _on the Honour he did
me of Enquiring after me and my_ MUSE.

_By Mrs._ A. Behn.


                                  (1)

    When Old _Rome’s_ Candidates aspir’d to Fame,
      And did the Peoples Suffrages obtain
    For some great Consul, or a _Cæsar’s_ Name;
      The Victor was not half so Pleas’d and Vain,
    As I, when given the Honour of your Choice,
    And Preference had in that one single Voice;
        That Voice, from whence Immortal Wit still flows;
    Wit that at once is Solemn all and Sweet,
        Where Noblest Eloquence and Judgment shows
    The Inspiring Mind Illustrious, Rich, and Great;
    A Mind that can inform your wond’rous Pen
        In all that’s Perfect and Sublime:
    And with an Art beyond the Wit of Men,
        On what e’re Theam, on what e’re great Design,
    It carries a Commanding Force, like that of Writ Divine.

                                  (2)

    With Pow’rful Reasoning drest in finest Sence,
        A thousand ways my Soul you can Invade,
    And spight of my Opinions weak Defence,
        Against my Will, you Conquer and Perswade.
    Your Language soft as Love, betrays the Heart,
    And at each Period fixes a Resistless Dart,
        While the fond list’ner, like a Maid undone,
        Inspir’d with Tenderness she fears to own;
    In vain essays her Freedom to Regain:
    The fine Ideas in her Soul remain,
    And Please, and Charm, even while they Grieve and Pain.

                                  (3)

    But yet how well this Praise can Recompense
    For all the welcome Wounds (before) you’d given!
        Scarce any thing but You and Heaven
        Such Grateful Bounties can dispense,
    As that Eternity of Life can give;
    So fam’d by you my Verse Eternally shall live:
    Till now, my careless Muse no higher strove
    T’inlarge her Glory, and extend her Wings;
        Than underneath _Parnassus_ Grove,
    To Sing of Shepherds, and their humble Love;
    But never durst, like _Cowly_, tune her Strings,
    To sing of Heroes and of Kings.
    But since by an Authority Divine,
    She is allow’d a more exalted Thought;
    She will be valu’d now as Currant Coyn;
    Whose Stamp alone gives it the Estimate,
    Tho’ out of an inferiour Metal wrought.

                                  (4)

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI — John Shaqi

The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI

The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume VI

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