Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SECOND PROLOGUE AT COURT TO 'THE EMPRESS OF MOROCCO', BY LADY HOWARD, by JOHN WILMOT Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Wit has of late took up a trick t' appear Last Line: For love will ever make the triumph yours. Alternate Author Name(s): Rochester, 2d Earl Of Subject(s): Charles Ii, King Of England (1630-1685); Courts & Courtiers; Howard, Lady Betty (d. 1683); Settle, Elkanah (1648-1724) | ||||||||
Wit has of late took up a trick t' appear Unmannerly, or at the best severe, And poets share the fate by which we fall When kindly we attempt to please you all. 'Tis hard your scorn should against such prevail Whose ends are to divert you, though they fail. You men would think it an ill-natured jest Should we laugh at you when you did your best. Then rail not here, though you see reason for 't: If wit can find itself no better sport, Wit is a very foolish thing at Court. Wit's business is to please, and not to fright: 'Tis no wit to be always in the right; You'll find it none, who dare be so tonight. Few so ill-bred will venture to a play To spy out faults in what we women say. For us, no matter what we speak, but how: How kindly can we say, "I hate you now!" And for the men, if you'll laugh at 'em, do: They mind themselves so much, they'll ne'er mind you. But why do I descend to lose a prayer On those small saints in wit? The god sits there. [To the King] To you, great sir, my message hither tends From youth and beauty, your allies and friends. See my credentials written in my face: They challenge your protection in this place, And hither come with such a force of charms As may give check ev'n to your prosperous arms. Millions of cupids, hovering in the rear, Like eagles following fatal troops appear, All waiting for the slaughter which draws nigh Of those bold gazers who this night must die; Nor can you 'scape our soft captivity, From which old age alone must set you free. Then tremble at the fatal consequence, Since 'tis well known, for your own part, great prince, 'Gainst us you still have made a weak defense. Be generous and wise, and take our part; Remember we have eyes, and you a heart. Else you may find, too late, that we are things Born to kill vassals and to conquer kings. But, oh! to what vain conquest I pretend Whilst Love is our commander, and your friend. Our victory your empire more assures, For Love will ever make the triumph yours. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ALLUSION TO HORACE, THE TENTH SATYR OF THE FIRST BOOK by JOHN WILMOT ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL: PART 2 (IN POEM BY NAHUM TATE) by JOHN DRYDEN OG AND DOES (THE WRITERS SHADWELL AND SETTLE) by JOHN DRYDEN A SATIRE [OR, SATYR] AGAINST MANKIND by JOHN WILMOT A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by JOHN WILMOT EPITAPH ON CHARLES II by JOHN WILMOT |
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