My patience I will put in ure,

My charity I will extend;

Since for my woe there is no cure,
The helpless now I will befriend:
The widow and the fatherlefs,
I will relieve, when in diftrefs.

Thus fhe continued year by year
In doing good to every one;

Her fame was noised every where,

Το young and old the fame was known;

No company that she would mind,

Who were to vanity inclin'd.

Mean while Ulyffes fought for fame,
'Mongst Trojans hazarding his life :

Young gallants, hearing of her name,

Came flocking for to tempt his wife ; For fhe was lovely, young, and fair, No lady might with her compare.

With coftly gifts and jewels fine,
They did endeavour her to win ;
With banquets, and the choiceft wine,

For to allure her unto fin:

Most persons were of high degree,
Who courted fair Penelope.

55

60

65

With modefty and comely grace,

Their wanton fuits she did denye; No tempting charms could e'er deface Her dearest husband's memorye; But conftant she would still remain, Hopeing to see him once again.

Her book her dayly comfort was,
And that she often did perufe ;

79

She feldom looked in her glass ;

75

Powder and paint fhe ne'er would use,

I wish all ladies were as free

From pride, as was Penelope.

She in her needle took delight,
And likewife in her fpinning-wheel;

Her maids about her every night

Did use the diftaff, and the reel :
The spiders, that on rafters twine,
Scarce fpin a thread more foft and fine.

Sometimes fhe would bewail the lofs

And absence of her dearest love:
Sometimes the thought the feas to cross,
Her fortune on the waves to prove :

I fear my lord is flain, quoth fhe,
He stays fo from Penelope.

At length the ten years fiege of Troy
Did end; in flames the city burn'd;
And to the Grecians was great joy,

To fee the towers to afhes turn'd:

Then came Ulyffes home to fee
His conftant, dear, Penelope.

O blame her not if she was glad,
When she her lord again had feen.
Thrice-welcome home, my dear, the faid,
A long time absent thou haft been:
The wars fhall never more deprive
Me of my lord whilft I'me alive.

Fair ladies all example take;

And hence a worthy leffon learn,

All youthful follies to forfake,
Ánd vice from virtue to difcern
And let all women ftrive to be,

As conftant as Penelope.

100

105

95

IX.

TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS.

By Sir Richard Lovelace: from a Scarce volume of his poems intitled, Lucafta, Lond. 1649. 12mo. The elegance of this writer's manner would be more admired, if it had Jomewhat more of fimplicity.

ELL me not, fweet, I am unkinde,

TE

That from the nunnerie

Of thy chafte breast, and quiet minde,

To warre and armes I flie.

True; a new miftreffe now I chafe,

The firft foe in the field;

And with a stronger faith imbrace
A fword, a horse, a fhield.

Yet this inconflancy is fuch,

As you too fhall adore;

I could not love thee, deare, fo much,

Lov'd I not honour more.

5

10

X. V A

S 2

X.

VALENTINE AND URSINE.

It would be in vain to put off this ballad for ancient, nor yet is it altogether modern. The original is an old MS poem in the Editor's poffeffion; which being in a wretched corrupt ftate, the fubject was thought worthy of fome embellifb

ments.

The old ftory-book of Valentine and Orfon (which fuggefted the plan of this tale, but it is not strictly followed in it) is originally a tranflation from the French, being See "Le Bibone of their earliest attempts at romance.

66

liotheque de Romans, &c."

The circumftance of the bridge of bells, is taken from the old metrical legend of Sir Bevis, and has also been copied in the Seven Champions. The original lines are

"Over the dyke a bridge there lay,
"That man and beeft might passe away.
"Under the brydge were fixty belles ;
Right as the Romans telles;

"That there might no man passe in,
"But all they rang with a gyn."

PART THE FIRST.

Sign. E. iv.

'HEN Flora 'gins to decke the fields
With colours fresh and fine,

Then holy clerkes their mattins fing
To good Saint Valentine!

The