_This Song was written on the death of Captain Digby, a younger son of the Earl of Bristol, who was killed in the great sea-fight between the English and Dutch, on the 28th May, 1672. The relentless beauty to whom the lines were addressed, was Frances Stuart, Duchess of Richmond; called in the Memoires de Grammont, La Belle Stuart. Count Hamilton there assures us, that her charms made conquest of Charles II. and were the occasion of much jealousy to the Countess of Castlemaine. Dryden's song is parodied in "The Rehearsal," in that made by "Tom Thimble's first wife after she was dead." "Farewell, fair Armida," is printed in the Covent-Garden Drollery, 1672, p. 16. where there is an exculpatory answer by the Lady, but of little merit._ Farewell, fair Armida, my joy and my grief! In vain I have loved you, and hope no relief; Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe, Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair: Now called by my honour, I seek with content The fate which in pity you would not prevent: To languish in love were to find, by delay, A death that's more welcome the speediest way. On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire, The danger is less than in hopeless desire; My death's wound you give me, though far off I bear My fall from your sight--not to cost you a tear; But if the kind flood on a wave should convey, And under your window my body should lay, The wound on my breast when you happen to see, You'll say with a sigh--_it was given by me_. THE FAIR STRANGER, A SONG. _These verses are addressed to Louise de la Querouailles. That lady came to England with the Duchess of Orleans, when she visited her brother Charles II. in 1670. The beauty of this fair stranger made the intended impression on Charles; he detained her in England, and created her Duchess of Portsmouth. Notwithstanding the detestation in which she was held by his subjects, on account of her religion, country, and politics, she continued to be Charles's principal favourite till the very hour of his death, when he recommended her and her son to his successor's protection._ I. Happy and free, securely blest, No beauty could disturb my rest; My amorous heart was in despair To find a new victorious fair: II. Till you, descending on our plains, With foreign force renew my chains; Where now you rule without controul, The mighty sovereign of my soul. III. Your smiles have more of conquering charms, Than all your native country's arms; Their troops we can expel with ease, Who vanquish only when we please. IV. But in your eyes, O! there's the spell! Who can see them, and not rebel? You make us captives by your stay; Yet kill us if you go away. A SONG FOR ST CECILIA'S DAY.