In this retir'd and humble seat, Free from both war and strife, I am not forc'd to make retreat, But chuse to spend my life.

FRANCES BOOTH BY

Lived in the reign of Charles II. and was related to Lady Yate, of Harvington, in Worcestershire, as we learn from the dedication of the only piece she has written, a play called Marcelia, 1670.

SONG.

1.

You powerful Gods, if I must be
An injur'd offering to Love's deity,
Grant my revenge, this plague on men,
That women ne'er may love again.

Then I'll with joy submit unto my fate,

Which by your justice gives their empire date.

2.

Depose that proud insulting boy,

Who most is pleas'd when he can most destroy;
O let the world no longer govern'd be

By such a blind and childish Deity!
For if you Gods be in your power severe,
We shall adore you, not from love, but fear.

3.

But if you'll his divinity maintain,

O'er men, false men, confine his tort'ring reign; And when their hearts love's greatest torments

prove,

Let that not pity, but our laughter move.

Thus scorn'd and lost to all their wishes aim,

Let Rage, Despair, and Death, then end their

flame.

MARGARET, DUTCHESS OF

NEWCASTLE,

died 1673,

Was born at St. John's near Colchester, about the end of the reign of James the First, and was the youngest daughter of Sir Charles Lucas. From her infancy she had an inclination to study, and was educated by her mother with very great care. Having been appointed one of the maids of honour to Henrietta Maria, she attended that Queen, during the troubles, to her native country; and having met with the Marquis of Newcastle at Paris, she there became his wife, in 1645. Her lord, soon after their marriage, fixed his residence at Antwerp, and found her a most faithful and affectionate companion of his long and honourable exile. At the Restoration, they returned to England. The labours of no modern authoress can be compared, as to quantity, with those of our indefatigable Dutchess, who has filled nearly twelve volumes folio with plays, poems, orations, philosophical discourses, &c. Her writings shew that she possessed a mind of considerable power and activity, with much imagination, but not one particle of judgment or taste. According to Langbaine, the language and plots of her plays (nineteen in number, and some of them in two parts) are entirely her own.

Horace Walpole has exerted all his wit to make her and the Duke, who used to assist her in her compositions, appear as ridiculous as possible.

Of the Theme of Love.

O Love, how thou art tired out with rhyme!
Thou art a tree whereon all poets climb;
And from thy branches every one takes some
Of thy sweet fruit, which Fancy feeds upon.
But now thy tree is left so bare and poor,
That they can hardly gather one plumb more.

The Pastime and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies, in Fairy-land, the Centre of the Earth.

[This Poem has been more than once reprinted, (the last time, I believe, in Park's edition of Walpole's R. and N. Authors,) but considerably curtailed from its original state. It is given here as it stands in the Dutchess's Poems and Fancies, 1653; and, perhaps, it would be difficult to point out a composition, which contains a more extraordinary mixture of imagination and coarse absurdity.

In the British Museum is a copy of the Poems and Fancies, with MS. notes by the authoress, which are