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On the Death of my dear Daughter Eliza Maria Chudleigh: A Dialogue between Lucinda and Marissa.

Marissa.
1 O my Lucinda! O my dearest Friend!
2 Must my Afflictions never, never End!
3 Has Heav'n for me no Pity left in Store,
4 Must I! O must I ne'er be happy more,
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5 Philinda's Loss had almost broke my Heart,
6 From her, Alas! I did but lately part:
7 And must there still be new Occasions found
8 To try my Patience, and my Soul to wound?
9 Must my lov'd Daughter too be snatch'd away,
10 Must she so soon the Call of Fate obey?
11 In her first Dawn, replete with youthful Charms,
12 She's fled, she's fled from my deserted Arms.
13 Long did she struggle, long the War maintain,
14 But all th' Efforts of Life, alas! were vain.
15 Could Art have sav'd her she had still been mine,
16 Both Art and Care together did combine,
17 But what is Proof against the Will Divine!
18 Methinks I still her dying Conflict view,
19 And the sad Sight does all my Grief renew:
20 Rack'd by Convulsive Pains she meekly lies,
21 And gazes on me with imploring Eyes,
22 With Eyes which beg Relief, but all in vain,
23 I see, but cannot, cannot ease her Pain:
24 She must the Burthen unassisted bear,
25 I cannot with her in her Tortures share:
26 Wou'd they were mine, and she stood easie by;
27 For what one loves, sure 'twere not hard to die.
28 See, how she labours, how she pants for Breath,
29 She's lovely still, she's sweet, she's sweet in Death!
30 Pale as she is, she beauteous does remain,
31 Her closing Eyes their Lustre still retain:
32 Like setting Suns, with undiminish'd Light,
33 They hide themselves within the Verge of Night.
34 She's gone! she's gone! she sigh'd her Soul away!
35 And can I! can I any longer stay!
36 My Life, alas! has ever tiresome been,
37 And I few happy, easie Days have seen;
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38 But now it does a greater Burthen grow,
39 I'll throw it off and no more Sorrow know,
40 But with her to calm peaceful Regions go.
41 Stay thou, dear Innocence, retard thy Flight,
42 O stop thy Journy to the Realms of Light,
43 Stay till I come: To thee I'll swiftly move,
44 Attracted by the strongest Passion, Love.
Lucinda.
45 No more, no more let me such Language hear,
46 I can't, I can't the piercing Accents bear:
47 Each Word you utter stabs me to the Heart:
48 I cou'd from Life, not from Marissa part:
49 And were your Tenderness as great as mine,
50 While I were left, you would not thus repine.
51 My Friends are Riches, Health, and all to me,
52 And while they're mine, I cannot wretched be.
Marissa.
53 If I on you cou'd Happiness bestow,
54 I still the Toils of Life wou'd undergo,
55 Wou'd still contentedly my Lot sustain,
56 And never more of my hard Fate complain:
57 But since my Life to you will useless prove,
58 O let me hasten to the Joys above:
59 Farewel, farewel, take, take my last adieu,
60 May Heav'n be more propitious still to you
61 May you live happy when I'm in my Grave,
62 And no Misfortunes, no Afflictions have:
63 If to sad Objects you'll some Pity lend,
64 And give a Sigh to an unhappy Friend,
65 Think of Marissa, and her wretched State,
66 How she's been us'd by her malicious Fate,
67 Recount those Storms which she has long sustain'd,
68 And then rejoice that she the Port has gain'd,
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69 The welcome Haven of eternal Rest,
70 Where she shall be for ever, ever blest;
71 And in her Mother's, and her Daughter's Arms,
72 Shall meet with new, with unexperienc'd Charms.
73 O how I long those dear Delights to taste;
74 Farewel, farewel; my Soul is much in haste.
75 Come Death and give the kind releasing Blow;
76 I'm tir'd with Life, and over-charg'd with Woe:
77 In thy cool, silent, unmolested Shade,
78 O let me be by their dear Relicks laid;
79 And there with them from all my Troubles free,
80 Enjoy the Blessings of a long Tranquillity.
Lucinda.
81 O thou dear Suff'rer, on my Breast recline
82 Thy drooping Head, and mix thy Tears with mine:
83 Here rest a while, and make a Truce with Grief,
84 Consider; Sorrow brings you no Relief.
85 In the great Play of Life we must not chuse,
86 Nor yet the meanest Character refuse.
87 Like Soldiers we our Gen'ral must obey,
88 Must stand our Ground, and not to Fear give way,
89 But go undaunted on till we have won the Day.
90 Honour is ever the Reward of Pain,
91 A lazy Virtue no Applause will gain,
92 All such as to uncommon Heights would rise,
93 And on the Wings of Fame ascend the Skies,
94 Must learn the Gifts of Fortune to despise.
95 They to themselves their Bliss must still confine,
96 Must be unmov'd, and never once repine:
97 But few to this Perfection can attain,
98 Our Passions often will th' Ascendant gain,
99 And Reason but alternately does reign;
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100 Disguis'd by Pride, we sometimes seem to bear
101 A haughty Port, and scorn to shed a Tear;
102 While Grief within still acts a tragick Part,
103 And plays the Tyrant in the bleeding Heart.
104 Your Sorrow is of the severest kind,
105 And can't be wholly to your Soul confin'd:
106 Losses like yours, may be allow'd to move
107 A gen'rous Mind, that knows what 'tis to love.
108 Who that her innate Worth had understood,
109 Wou'd not lament a Mother so divinely good?
110 And who, alas! without a Flood of Tears,
111 Cou'd lose a Daughter in her blooming Years:
112 An only Daughter, such a Daughter too,
113 As did deserve to be belov'd by you;
114 Who'd all that cou'd her to the World commend,
115 A Wit that did her tender Age transcend,
116 Inviting Sweetness, and a sprightly Air,
117 Looks that had something pleasingly severe,
118 The Serious and the Gay were mingl'd there:
119 These merit all the Tears that you have shed,
120 And could Complaints recall them from the Dead,
121 Could Sorrow their dear Lives again restore,
122 I here with you for ever would deplore:
123 But since th' intensest Grief will prove in vain,
124 And these lost Blessings can't be yours again,
125 Recal your wand'ring Reason to your Aid,
126 And hear it calmly when it does persuade;
127 'Twill teach you Patience, and the useful Skill
128 To rule your Passions, and command your Will;
129 To bear Afflictions with a steady Mind,
130 Still to be easie, pleas'd, and still resign'd,
131 And look as if you did no inward Trouble find.
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Marissa.
132 I know, Lucinda, this I ought to do,
133 But oh! 'tis hard my Frailties to subdue:
134 My Head-strong Passions will Resistance make,
135 And all my firmest Resolutions shake:
136 I for my Daughter's Death did long prepare,
137 And hop'd I shou'd the Stroke with Temper bear,
138 But when it came, Grief quickly did prevail,
139 And I soon found my boasted Courage fail:
140 Yet still I strove, but 'twas, alas! in vain,
141 My Sorrow did at length th' Ascendant gain:
142 But I'm resolv'd I will no longer yield;
143 By Reason led, I'll once more take the Field,
144 And there from my insulting Passions try
145 To gain a full, a glorious Victory:
146 Which till I've done, I never will give o'er,
147 But still fight on, and think of Peace no more;
148 With an unweary'd Courage still contend,
149 Till Death, or Conquest, does my Labour end.

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Title (in Source Edition): On the Death of my dear Daughter Eliza Maria Chudleigh: A Dialogue between Lucinda and Marissa.
Author: Lady Mary Chudleigh
Themes:
Genres: occasional poem

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Chudleigh, Mary Lee, 1656-1710. Poems on several occasions. Together with the Song of the three children paraphras'd. By the Lady Chudleigh. London: Printed by W.B. for Bernard Lintott at the Middle Temple Gate in Fleetstreet, 1703, pp. 94-99. [16],125,[17],73,[1]p.; 8⁰. (ESTC T97275) (Page images digitized from a copy in the Bodleian Library [(OC) 280 j.452].)

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Typography, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation have been cautiously modernized. The source of the text is given and all significant editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. This ECPA text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.