Page:Poetical Works of John Oldham.djvu/35

Rh The gentle throes of thy prolific brain Were all unstrained, and without pain. Thus when great Jove the Queen of Wisdom bare, So easy and so mild his travails were. Nor were these fruits in a rough soil bestown, As gems are thickest in rugged quarries sown. Good nature, and good parts, so shared thy mind, A muse and grace were so combined, 'Twas hard to guess which with most lustre shined. A genius did thy whole comportment act, Whose charming complaisance did so attract, As every heart attacked. Such a soft air thy well-tuned sweetness swayed, As told thy soul of harmony was made; All rude affections that disturbers be, That mar or disunite society, Were foreigners to thee. Love only in their stead took up its rest; Nature made that thy constant guest, And seemed to form no other passion for thy breast. This made thy courteousness to all extend, And thee to the whole universe a friend. Those who were strangers to thy native soil and thee, No strangers to thy love could be, Whose bounds were wide as all mortality. Thy heart no island was, disjoined (Like thine own nation) from all human kind; But 'twas a continent to other countries fixed As firm by love, as they by earth annexed. Thou scornedst the map should thy affection guide, Like theirs who love by dull geography, Friends but to whom by soil they are allied: Thine reached to all beside, To every member of the world's great family. Heaven’s kindness only claims a name more general,