No longer man of woman shall complain, As beauty's potent queen, with ev'ry grace, 15 20 25 That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt; 30 O let the story with thy life agree: } 35 Let men once more the bright example fee; In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd; Great gifts beftow'd, and great respect receiv'd. When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care From the loud camp retir'd and noisy court, The remnant of his days he fafely past; 45 50 Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too fast. 55 One child he had, a daughter chast and fair, His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir. They call'd her Emma; for the beauteous dame, Who gave the virgin birth, had born the name : The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd; 61 For in the child the mothers charms improv'd. Yet, as when little, round his knees fhe play'd, He call'd her oft, in fport, his Nut-brown Maid: The friends and tenants took the fondling word (As ftill they please, who imitate their lord); 66 Ufage confirm'd what fancy had begun; The mutual terms around the lands were known; And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one. 71 As with her ftature, ftill her charms encreas'd; Thro' all the isle her beauty was confefs'd. Oh! what perfections must that virgin share, Who fairest is esteem'd, where all are fair! From diftant shires repair the noble youth, And find report, for once, had leffen'd truth. By wonder first, and then by paffion mov'd, 75 They came; they faw; they marvell'd; and they lov'd. By public praises, and by fecret fighs, 80 Each own'd the gen'ral power of Emma's eyes. Which elfe will never reach the fair-one's heart, art. Great Venus must prefer the happy one: In Henry's cause her favour must be shown: While these in public to the caftle came, And by their grandeur justify'd their flame; More fecret ways the careful Henry takes ; His fquires, his arms, and equipage forfakes: 95 In borrow'd name and false attire array'd, When Emma hunts in huntsman's habit drest, Henry on foot pursues the bounding beast. In his right hand his beechen pole he bears: 100 And graceful at his fide his horn he wears. Still to the glade, where she has bent her way, With knowing skill he drives the future prey; Bids her decline the hill, and fhun the brake; And shows the path her steed may safest take; 105 Directs her spear to fix the glorious wound; Pleas'd, in his toils, to have her triumph crown'd; And blows her praises with no common found. 110 A falc'ner Henry is, when Emma hawks: With her of tarfels, and of lures he talks. Upon his wrist the tow'ring merlin stands, Practis'd to rife, and stoop, at her commands. And when fuperior now the bird has flown, And headlong brought the tumbling quarry down; With humble reverence he accosts the fair. And with the honor'd feather decks her hair. Yet ftill, as from the sportive field he goes, A nobler game pursued than bird or beast. 115 120 And, with his jolly pipe, delights the groves. The neighb'ring fwains around the stranger throng, While, with foft forrow, he renews his lays, 125 Nor heedful of their envy, nor their praise. Left 130 A frantick gipfey, now the house he haunts, And in wild phrases, speaks diffembled wants. With the fond maids in palmistry he deals: They tell the fecret firft, which he reveals: Says who fhall wed, and who fhall be beguil'd; What groom shall get, and fquire maintain the child. But when bright Emma would her fortune know, A fofter look unbends his op'ning brow; With trembling awe he gazes on her eye, And in foft accents forms the kind reply; That she shall prove as fortunate as fair, And Hymen's choiceft gifts are all referv'd for her. Now oft had Henry chang'd his fly disguise, By letters, foft interpreters of love: 140 145 150 Made him perceive, that the inclining fair |