All is your lord’s alone; even absent, he
  Employs the care of chaste Penelope. 
  For him you waste in tears your widow’d hours,
  For him your curious needle paints the flowers; 160
  Such works of old imperial dames were taught;
  Such, for Ascanius, fair Eliza wrought. 
  The soft recesses of your hours improve
  The three fair pledges of your happy love: 
  All other parts of pious duty done,
  You owe your Ormond nothing but a son;
  To fill in future times his father’s place,
  And wear the garter of his mother’s race.

* * * * *

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 71:  ‘Duchess of Ormond:’  daughter of Duke of Bedford, afterwards Lieutenant of Ireland, and who had recently visited it.]

* * * * *

PALAMON AND ARCITE: 

OR, THE KNIGHT’S TALE.

BOOK I.

  In days of old, there lived, of mighty fame,
  A valiant prince, and Theseus was his name: 
  A chief, who more in feats of arms excell’d,
  The rising nor the setting sun beheld. 
  Of Athens he was lord; much land he won,
  And added foreign countries to his crown. 
  In Scythia with the warrior queen he strove,
  Whom first by force he conquer’d, then by love;
  He brought in triumph back the beauteous dame,
  With whom her sister, fair Emilia, came. 10
  With honour to his home let Theseus ride,
  With love to friend, and fortune for his guide,
  And his victorious army at his side. 
  I pass their warlike pomp, their proud array,
  Their shouts, their songs, their welcome on the way. 
  But, were it not too long, I would recite
  The feats of Amazons, the fatal fight
  Betwixt the hardy queen and hero knight;
  The town besieged, and how much blood it cost
  The female army, and the Athenian host; 20
  The spousals of Hippolita the queen;
  What tilts and tourneys at the feast were seen;
  The storm at their return, the ladies’ fear: 
  But these, and other things, I must forbear. 
  The field is spacious I design to sow,
  With oxen far unfit to draw the plough: 
  The remnant of my tale is of a length
  To tire your patience, and to waste my strength;
  And trivial accidents shall be forborne,
  That others may have time to take their turn; 30
  As was at first enjoin’d us by mine host: 
  That he whose tale is best, and pleases most,
  Should win his supper at our common cost.