William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910.
On My BirthdayMatthew Prior (16641721)
I,
So all my jolly comrades say;
They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know
That I was born to pain and woe;
To thy denial, to thy scorn,
Better I had ne’er been born:
I wish to die, even whilst I say,
‘I, my dear, was born to-day.’
Shall I salute the rising ray?
Well-spring of all my joy and woe,
Clotilda, thou alone dost know.
Shall the wreath surround my hair?
Or shall the music please my ear?
Shall I my comrades’ mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me see great Venus chase
Imperious anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee smiling say,
‘Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.’