A Poem on the history of Queen Hester ; An elegy on the death of the Lord Chief Justice Hales ; and other occasional poems

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Title: A Poem on the history of Queen Hester ; An elegy on the death of the Lord Chief Justice Hales ; and other occasional poems
Publication: London :: Printed for William Leech ...,; [1680?]
Rights/Permissions: This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.
Subject terms: Esther, -- Queen of Persia -- Poetry.; Hale, Matthew, -- Sir, -- 1609-1676 -- Poetry.
Cite this Item: "A Poem on the history of Queen Hester ; An elegy on the death of the Lord Chief Justice Hales ; and other occasional poems." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55255.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 18, 2024.

Pages

To a fair Lady at a Festival Dinner at Sir William Prichards.
THanks to the Sheriff for his free Feast,
And welcom to so mean a Guest;
Good Wine, good Musick, and good Chear
Did nobly act, each in their Sphere.
The untoucht Dishes in retreat
Sounded his Praise, and all Compleat.
But, Madam, much more thanks to you,
Who did both Feast and heal me too;
Your Beauty was that delicate Mess,
Which as it mov'd did quell Excess.
How could I greedily pursue
The grosser Cates beholding you?
How could I but ev'n pamper sense
Once tasting that rare Influence?
Your Sun-shine made me blith and Jolly,
Who came in Dead in Melancholy.
My Ice did Thaw, my Clouds did Fly,
My tongue grew loose which grief did tye.
If your more distant casual heat
Could make dull pulse so warmly beat,
How high and hot had been my Flame
Had those beams come from Love and Aim?
Thus freed, thus fetter'd by your Eye;
Your Captive, yours at Liberty.—