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

Poems in English 

• Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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