Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF MRS. BEHN; THE INCOMPARABLE APHRA, by ANONYMOUS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF MRS. BEHN; THE INCOMPARABLE APHRA, by                    
First Line: "summon the earth (the fair astrea's gone,)"
Last Line: Nor would endure the world when he had lost his throne
Subject(s): "behn, Aphra (1640-1689);death;earth;heaven;tears;" "dead, The;world;paradise;


I

Summon the Earth (the fair Astrea's gone,)
And let through every Angle fly,
Till it has fill'd the mighty Round,
And thence arise to the expanded Sky,
In Murmurs for the misery done,
To see if Heaven, Heaven will our Grief supply,
With Tears enough to mourn her Destiny.
Assemble all the Crowds below,
You that Obedience to the Muses owe,
And teach the Sighing Maids to mourn,
With unbound Hair, and flowing Tears,
In Strains as moving as her Numbers were,
The mighty Desolation, mighty Woe.
Teach them in Charming accents, such as once
She did the list'ning Crowds inform,
When high as Heaven her Praise was born,
And taught the Angels to rejoyce,
In sweeter, truer Numbers than before,
In all their bright Seraphick Store,
Had ever tun'd their Heavenly Voice:
And thus prepar'd, let them the Loss deplore,
The charming wise Astrea is no more.

II

What have we done? What have our Crimes deserv'd?
Why this injurious Rape?
The World is Widdow'd now,
And Desolation every where
With dismal Groans invades the Air;
My sullen Muse, that ne're before
The sacred Title wore,
Untaught, unpractis'd, has preferred
(For none from Mourning can escape)
In uneven Strains, and much below
All but my Grief,
To tell the World their Universal Woe,
Which ne're can hope Relief:
'Tis an implacable Decree,
That Languishments, Diseases, Death,
Must attend all that live on Earth...

IV

Who now, of all the inspired Race,
Shall take Orinda's Place?
Or who the Hero's fame shall raise?
Who now shall fill the Vacant Throne?
The bright Astrea's gone,...

VI

Let all our Hopes despair and dye,
Our Sex for ever shall neglected lye;
Aspiring Man has now regain'd the Sway,
To them we've lost the Dismal Day:
Astrea an equal Ballance held,
(Tho' she deserv'd it all;)
But now the rich Inheritance must fall;
To them with Grief we yeild
The Glorious envy'd Field.
Of her own Sex, not one is found
Who dares her Laurel wear,
Withheld by Impotence or Fear;
With her it withers on the Ground,
Untouch'd, and cold as she,
And Reverenc'd to that degree,
That none will dare to save
The Sacred Relick from the Grave;
Intomb'd with her, and never to return,
Fills up the narrow Urn,
Which more Presumption, or more Courage has than we.

VII

In Love she had the softest sense;
And had her Virtue been as great,
In Heaven she'd fill'd the foremost Seat.
This failure, or she had Immortal been,
And free as Angels are from Sin;
'Twas pity that she practis'd what she taught;
Her Muse was of the bolder Sex;
Such Mysteries of Love she did dispence,
Such moving natural Eloquence,
As made her too much Wit her fault.
Her ever-loyal Muse took no pretext,
To discommend what once it prais'd;
And what has most her Glory rais'd,
Her Royal Master she has follow'd home,
Nor would endure the World when he had lost his Throne...





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net