But fuch as boast a great Extensive Mind,
Enriched by "Nature, and by Art refin'd;
Who from the Antient Stores their Knowledge bring. And tafted Early of the Mafe's Spring.
May none pretend upon her Throne to fit,
But fuch, as fprung from you, are Born to Wit Chos'n' by the Mob, their lawless: Claim' we flight: Yours is the Old Hereditary Right.
CHARLES BRANDON,
DUKE of Suffolk.
The Princess Mary, Henry the VIIIth's Younger Sifter, being in Love with the Duke of Suffolk, was, for publick Reafons, Married to Lewis the XIith of France, who died in Six Months after. The Queen being again at Liberty, writes the following Epistle to the Duke of Suffolk, her first
ET thefe foft Lines my kindeft Thoughts convey,
And tell Thee what I fuffer by thy Stay.
Did Seas divide Us, this might well excufe
Thy Negligence, and my fond Heart abuse.
But Calais from the Kentish Strand is feen
A gentle Current only rolls between.
Nor needs my Suffolk, like Leander, brave
A prefent Death in ev'ry breaking Wave,
When, guided only by a glimm'ring Light,
He crofs'd the ftormy Hellefpont by Night.
Tall Ships, with flying Sails and lab'ring Oars,
Attend to land Thee on the Gallic Shoars.
But thou art chang'd;-that Ardor is expir'd,
Which once thy Wishes with Impatience fir'd;
When Savoy's blooming Dutchess strove in vain
From Me the Conqueft of thy Heart to gain;
Invited by great Henry's martial Fame,
The haughty Princess, with her Brother, came
To Compliment the King for Tournay gain'd;
Where, in a rich Pavilion entertain'd,,
Thy noble Form th' unguarded FAIR surpris'd;
Nor were her tender Wilhes long difguis'd:
Whatever Flatt'ry, Love, or wanton Art
Could do, the practis'd to feduce thy Heart.
Great Antony, by fuch Allurements gain'd,
For Cleopatra all his Glory ftain'd:
But thy firm Faith no Injury receiv'd;
For You ftill lov'd; or I was well deceiv'd:
Nor were my. Virgin Vows lefs true to thee,
When young Caftile addrefs'd the Court for me
The Charms of proffer'd Empire I refign'd;
Brandon was more than Empire to my Mind:.
While, without Rivals, in thy Breast I reign'd,
My Thoughts the Pageantry of Pow'r difdain'd.
But ah! what Changes human Joys attend!
On fickle Turns our brightest Hopes depend..
Victorious Henry's Arms ftill meet Success;
The vanquifh'd Gauls at laft propofe a Peace.
By Woolfey's Policy their Terms fucceed;
The long contending Nations are agreed;
And I the publick Victim am decreed.
Condemn'd to share the Chriftian Monarch's Bed
And curs'd with that Magnificence I fled..
I knew my Rank no private Choice allow'd,..
And what a Princess to her Country ow'd.
Thefe fplendid Maxims should have sway'd my Breafts
But LOVE entirely had my Soul poffefs'd.
How oft, I wish'd my kinder Destiny
Had funk the Queen in fome obfcure-Degree;
While crown'd by rural Maids with painted Flow'rs
I rang'd the Fields, and flept in verdant Bow'rs;
Belov'd of fome young Swain, with Brandon's Face,
His Voice, his Gesture, and his blooming Grace,
In all but BIRTH and STATE resembling Thee!
Then unmolested we had liv'd, and free:
From all the curft Restraints which Greatness brings;
While Grots, the Meads, the Shades,and purling Springs
The flow'ry Valley, and the gloomy Grove,
Had heard of no fuperior Name to LOVE,
Such Scenes of this inglorious Life I drew,
And half believ'd the charming Fiction true;
"Till real Ills diffolv'd the pleafing Dreams,
The Groves and' Vallies fled, the Lawns and Silver
Streams..
The gay fantaftick Paradife I mourn'd,
While Courts and Factions, Crowns and Cares-réturn'd,.
With Sighs I ftill recall the fatal Day, When no Pretence could gain a longer Stay. The lovely Queen my parting Sorrow faw, Nor Henry's Prefence kept my Grief in Awe. No Rules of decent Custom could controul, Or hide the wide Disorder of my Soul,, When shipp'd for France before the dancing Wind The Navy fred, and left my Hopes behind. With weeping Eyes I ftill furvey'd the Strand, ́ Where on a rifing Cliff I faw Thee ftand; Nor once from thence my stedfaft Sight withdrew, 'Till the lov'd Object was no more in View. Farewel, I cry'd, dear Charming YOUTH, with Thee Each chearful Profpect vanishes from Me
Loud Shouts and Triumphs on the Gallic Coaft Salute me, but the noifie ZEAL was loft.
Nor Shouts, nor Triumphs drew my leaft Regard,
Thy parting Sighs methought was all I heard.
But now at Albeville by Louis met,
I ftrove the Thoughts of Suffolk to forget: -.
For here my Faith was to my Monarch vow'd,
And folemn Rites my Paffion difallow'd:
However pure my former Flames had been,
Unblemish'd Honour made them now a Sin..
But foarce my Virtue had the Conqueft gain'd,
And ev'ry wild forbidden Wish restrain'd;
When at St. Dennis, with Imperial State
Invested, on the Gallic Throne I fate;
The Day with noble Turnaments was grac'd;
Your Name among the British Champions plac'd. '.
Invited by a guilty Thirft of Fame,
Without Regard to my Repofe, You came.
The Lifts I faw Thee ent ring with Surprise,
And felt the darting GLANCES of thine Eyes..
Ye Sacred Pow'rs (I cry'd) that rule above!
Defend my Breaft from this perfidious Love..
Ye Holy Lamps! before whofe awful Lights
I gave my Hand; and ye religious Rites!
Affift me now; nor let a Thought unchafte,
Or guilty With, my plighted Honour blast :
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