A Biographical Dictionary of the Celebrated Women of Every Age and Country/Monk, (Honourable Mrs.)
She acquired a perfect knowledge of the Latin, Italian, and Spanish tongues; and by reading the best authors in those languages, became a proficient in the art of poetry. She wrote many poems for her own diversion, yet with such accuracy, that they were deemed worthy of publication, and soon after her death, which happened about the year 1715, they were printed with this title, Marinda: Poems and Translations upon several Occasions, 1716. They were dedicated to the princess Caroline, since queen, by her father, lord Molesworth; who speaks of the poems and the author in the following manner: 'Most of them,' says he, 'are the product of leisure hours of a young gentlewoman lately dead, who, in a remote country retirement, without any assistance, but that of a good library, and without omitting the daily care due to a large family, not only perfectly acquired the several languages here made use of, but the good morals and principles contained in these books, so as to put them in practice, as well during her life and languishing sickness, as at the hour of her death. In short, she died not only like a christian, but a Roman lady; and so became at once the object of the grief and comfort of her relations. As much as I am obliged to be sparing in commending what belongs to me, I cannot forbear thinking some of these circumstances uncommon enough to be taken notice of. I loved her more because she deserved it, than because she was mine; and I cannot do greater honour to her memory, than by consecrating her labours, or rather her diversion, to your royal highness, as we found most of them in her scritore after her death, written with her own hand; little expecting, and as little desiring, the public should have any opportunity either of applauding or condemning them.'
Mr. Gyles Jacob, in his Lives of the Poets, tells us, that these poems and translations shew the true spirit and numbers of poetry, a delicacy of turn, and justness of thought and expression.
She wrote the following epitaph on a lady of pleasure.
O'er this marble drop a tear.
Here lies fair Rosalinde;
All mankind were pleased with her.
And she with all mankind.
The following verses (we are informed) were written on her death-bed at Bath to her husband in London.
Thou who dost all my worldly thoughts employ,
Thou pleasing source of all my earthly joy,
Thou tenderest husband, and thou best of friends,
To thee, this first, this last adieu I send.
At length the conqueror death asserts his right,
And will forever vail thee from my sight.
He woos me to him with a chearful grace;
And not one terror clouds his meagre face.
He promises a lasting rest from pain,
And shews that all life's fleeting joys are vain.
Th' eternal scenes of heaven he sets in view,
And tells me that no other joys are true.
But love, fond love, would yet resist his power,
Would fain a while defer the parting hour:
He brings thy mourning image to my eyes,
And would obstruct my journey to the skies.
But say, thou dearest, thou unwearied friend,
Say, should'st thou grieve to see my sorrows end?
Thou know'st a painful pilgrimage I've past.
And should'st thou grieve that rest is come at last?
Rather rejoice to see me shake off life,
And die, as I have liv'd, thy faithful wife.