The Chronicle

A BALLAD.

MARGARITA first possest,

If I remember well, my brest,

Margarita first of all;

But when awhile the wanton maid

With my restless heart had play’d,

Martha took the flying ball.

Martha soon did it resign

To the beauteous Catharine.

Beauteous Catharine gave place

(Though loth and angry she to part

With the possession of my heart)

To Eliza’s conquering face.

Eliza till this hour might reign,

Had she not evil counsels ta’en.

Fundamental laws she broke,

And still new favorites she chose,

Till up in arms my passions rose,

And cast away her yoke.

Mary then, and gentle Anne,

Both to reign at once began;

Alternately they sway’d;

And sometimes Mary was the fair,

And sometimes Anne the Crown did wear,

And sometimes both I obey’d.

Another Mary then arose

And did rigorous laws impose;

A mighty tyrant she!

Long, alas! should I have been

Under that iron-scepter’d queen,

Had not Rebecca set me free.

When fair Rebecca set me free,

‘Twas then a golden time with me:

But soon those pleasures fled;

For the gracious princess dy’d,

In her youth and beauty’s pride,

And Judith reigned in her stead.

One month, three days, and half an hour,

Judith held the soveraign power:

Wondrous beautiful her face!

But so weak and small her wit,

That she to govern was unfit,

And so Susanna took her place.

But when Isabella came,

Arm’d with a resistless flame,

And th’ artillery of her eye;

Whilst she proudly march’d about,

Greater conquests to find out,

She beat out Susan by the bye.

But in her place I then obey’d

Black-ey’d Bess, her viceroy-maid;

To whom ensu’d a vacancy:

Thousand worse passions than possest

The interregnum of my breast;

Bless me from such an anarchy!

Gentle Henriette then,

And a third Mary, next began;

Then Joan, and Jane, and Audria;

And then a pretty Thomasine,

And then another Katharine,

And then a long et cætera.

But should I now to you relate,

The strength and riches of their state;

The powder, patches, and the pins,

The ribbons, jewels, and the rings,

The lace, the paint, and warlike things,

That make up all their magazines;

If I should tell the politic arts

To take and keep men’s hearts;

The letters, embassies, and spies,

The frowns, and smiles, and flatteries,

The quarrels, tears, and perjuries

(Numberless, nameless, mysteries!)

And all the little lime-twigs laid,

By Machiavel the waiting-maid;

I more voluminous should grow

(Chiefly if I like them should tell

All change of weathers that befell)

Than Holinshed or Stow.

But I will briefer with them be,

Since few of them were long with me.

An higher and a nobler strain

My present Emperess does claim,

Heleonora, first o’ th’ name;

Whom God grant long to reign!

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External links

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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Aubade by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• A Lover’s Complaint by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• A Fairy Song by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love’s own hand did make by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 144: Two loves I have, of comfort and despair by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 143: Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 142: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 140: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 136: If thy soul check thee that I come so near by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 135: Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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