Prologue to the Duchess, on her return from Scotland written by Mr. Dryden.

About this Item

Title
Prologue to the Duchess, on her return from Scotland written by Mr. Dryden.
Author
Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
Publication
[London] :: Printed for Jacob Tonson,
1682.
Rights/Permissions

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Subject terms
Mary, -- of Modena, Queen, consort of James II, King of England, 1658-1718.
Broadsides -- England -- London -- 17th century
Cite this Item
"Prologue to the Duchess, on her return from Scotland written by Mr. Dryden." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A36667.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 2, 2024.

Pages

Page [unnumbered]

PROLOGUE TO The Dutchess, On Her Return from SCOTLAND.

WHEN Factious Rage to cruel Exile, drove The Queen of Beauty, and the Court of Love; The Muses Droop'd, with their forsaken Arts, And the sad Cupids broke their useless Darts. Our fruitfull Plains to Wilds and Desarts turn'd, Like Edens Face when banish'd Man it mourn'd: Love was no more when Loyalty was gone, The great Supporter of his Awfull Throne. Love cou'd no longer after Beauty stay, But wander'd Northward to the verge of day, As if the Sun and He had lost their way. But now th' Illustrious Nymph return'd again, Brings every Grace triumphant in her Train: The wondring Nereids, though they rais'd no storm, Foreslow'd her passage to behold her form: Some cry'd a Venus, some a Thetis past: But this was not so fair, nor that so chast. Far from her sight flew Faction, Strife and Pride: And Envy did but look on her, and dy'd. What e'er we suffer'd from our sullen Fate, Her sight is purchas'd at an easy rate:

Page [unnumbered]

Three gloomy Years against this day were set: But this one mighty Sum has clear'd the Debt. Like Ioseph's Dream, but with a better doom; The Famine past, the Plenty still to come. For Her the weeping Heav'ns become serene, For Her the Ground is clad in cheerfull green: For Her the Nightingales are taught to sing, And Nature has for her delay'd the Spring. The Muse resumes her long-forgotten Lays, And Love, restor'd, his Ancient Realm surveys; Recalls our Beauties, and revives our Plays. His Wast Dominions peoples once again, And from Her presence dates his Second Reign. But awfull Charms on her fair Forehead sit, Dispensing what she never will admit. Pleasing, yet cold, like Cynthia's silver Beam, The Peoples Wonder, and the Poets Theam. Distemper'd Zeal, Sedition, canker'd Hate, No more shall vex the Church, and tear the State; No more shall Faction civil Discords move, Or onely discords of too tender love: Discord like that of Musicks various parts, Discord that makes the harmony of Hearts, Discord that onely this dispute shall bring, Who best shall love the Duke, and serve the King.
FINIS.
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