A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover -- John Wilmot

Guest poem submitted by Nick Blackburn:

(Poem #1058) A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover Ancient Person, for whom I All the flattering youth defy, Long be it e'er thou grow old, Aching, shaking, crazy cold; But still continue as thou art, Ancient Person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie, Brooding kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind show'rs in autumn fall, And a second spring recall; Nor from thee will ever part, Ancient Person of my heart. Thy nobler parts, which but to name In our sex would be counted shame, By ages frozen grasp possest, From their ice shall be released, And, soothed by my reviving hand, In former warmth and vigour stand. All a lover's wish can reach, For thy joy my love shall teach; And for thy pleasure shall improve All that art can add to love. Yet still I love thee without art, Ancient Person of my heart. -- John Wilmot

A fine poem from from my second best source (it's not the Minstrels, so it
must be the BBC's Something Understood). A fine compliment to Shakespeare's
sonnet CXXX ("My Mistress' Eyes are Nothing Like the Sun") and extremely
rude.

Nick.

[Minstrels Links]

Just the one Wilmot poem so far:
Poem #669, Epigram on Charles II -- John Wilmot

Here's old Bill Shakespeare:
Poem #16, Full Fathom Five
Poem #44, My Mistress' Eyes are Nothing Like the Sun (Sonnets CXXX)
Poem #48, Pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth
Poem #71, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day? (Sonnets XVIII)
Poem #126, Our revels now are ended
Poem #200, Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks
Poem #219, Full many a glorious morning have I seen (Sonnets XXXIII)
Poem #229, To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow
Poem #243, When that I was and a little tiny boy
Poem #312, Where the bee sucks
Poem #363, Let me not to the marriage of true minds (Sonnet CXVI)
Poem #413, Admired Miranda!
Poem #477, Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Poem #570, Come, Night; Come, Romeo
Poem #611, Winter
Poem #808, Not From The Stars Do I My Judgment Pluck (Sonnets XIV)
Poem #943, So is it not with me as with that Muse (Sonnets XXI)

Epitaph on Charles II -- John Wilmot

Gues poem submitted by Divya Sampath:

(Poem #669) Epitaph on Charles II Here lies a great and mighty King, Whose promise none relied on; He never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one. -- John Wilmot

     (Earl of Rochester)

[Notes]

Following Martial's example [1], later epigrammatists often composed
epitaphs for the still living. The one above was written by John Wilmot
during a falling out with the King - a fairly frequent occurrence, by all
accounts, though they were otherwise fast friends. In response to this,
Charles II is supposed to have said, "That is very true, for my words are my
own, but my acts, my ministers'".

[1] Marcus Valerius Martialis (40-104 C.E), who wrote (among other things)
the following pithy words:

 "Epigrammaton"
 Hic est quem legis ille, quem requiris,
 toto notus in orbe Martialis
 argutis epigrammaton libellis:
 cui, lector studiose, quod dedisti
 uiuenti decus atque sentienti,
 rari post cineres habent poetae.

(He unto whom thou art so partial,
 Oh, reader! is the well-known Martial,
 The Epigrammatist: while living,
 Give him the fame thou wouldst be giving;
 So shall he hear, and feel, and know it --
 Post-obits rarely reach a poet. )
(tr. George Gordon, Lord Byron)

[Brief Bio]

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester (1647-1680)

John Wilmot was born at Ditchley in Oxfordshire, England. The son of a
Cavalier hero and his deeply religious wife, he grew into a notorious
rakehell. By the age of eighteen he had indulged in a number of love
affairs, one of which resulted in the birth of an illegitimate daughter. In
1665 he kidnapped the much sought after heiress Elizabeth Malet, whom he
later married. His lifestyle and wit earned him the (mercurial) favour of
Charles II. Despite several banishments from the court, he remained a
favourite of the king.

In the last year of his life, he seemed to regret his self-indulgent
lifestyle, while being cared for by the rising Anglican Bishop, Gilbert
Burnet. Wilmot influenced and was admired by a large number of poets
including John Dryden, Jonathan Swift and Alexander Pope.

     -- condensed from various sources, including the EB

Divya.