To Colin, From a Masquerade by Jane Wiseman Holt

From Musick one wou’d think design’d
On purpose to untune the Mind,
From Mirth even Momus wou’d disdain,
And Wit below a Criticks Vein,
From Friendship feign’d and Love uncouth
The shame of Age and scorn of Youth,
From noisy Nights and thoughtless Days,
From all that Colin wou’d displease,
Tir’d with vain Pursuits I come,
Contented to be dull at home.
Say faithful Friend, whom most I prize,
And knowing, half, the World despise,
Has Boreas lock’d up all his Train,
And Neptune smooth’d the restless Main;
Have smiling Cupids spread the Sails,
And seen them fill’d with prosp’rous Gales.
That Tritons safe to shore may bring
The Fair whose welcome I shall sing,
Whom by your Flame inspir’d I chuse,
To be at once my Subject and my Muse.

From: Holt, Mrs., A Fairy Tale Inscrib’d, to the Honourable Mrs. W—– With Other Poems, 1717, R. Burleigh and Arabella Morice: London, pp. 18-19.

Date: 1717

By: Jane Wiseman Holt (c1682-1717)

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