'Tis I inftru&t them to withdraw,
And hold prefumptuous man in awe ;
For female worth, as I inspire,
In just degrees, still mounts the higher,
And virtue, fo extremely nice,
Demands long toil, and mighty price;
Like Sampfon's pillars, fix'd elate,
I bear the fex's tott'ring state;
Sap these, and in a moment's space,
Down finks the fabric to its base.
Alike from t.tles, and from toys,
I fpring, the fount of female joys;
In every widow, wife, and mifs,
The fole artificer of bliss.
For them each tropic I explore;
I cleave the fand of every shore;
To them uniting Indias fail,
Sabæa breathes her farthest gale;
For them the bullion I refine,
Dig fenfe and Virtue from the mine,
And from the bowels of invention,
Spin out the various arts you mention.
Nor blifs alone my pow'rs bestow,
They hold the fov'reign balm of woe;
Beyond the Stoic's boasted art,
I foothe the heavings of the heart;
To pain give splendor, and relief,
And gild the pallid face of grief.
Alike the palace, and the plain
Admit the glories of my reign;
Through every age, in every nation,
Tafte, talents, tempers, ftate, and station,
Whate'er a woman says, I say;
Whate'er a woman spends, I pay;
Alike I fill, and empty bags,
Flutter in finery, and rags,
With light coquets through folly range,
And with the prude difdain to change.
And now you'd think, 'twixt you and I,
That things were ripe for a reply-
But foft, and while I'm in the mood,
Kindly permit me to conclude,
Their utmost mazes to unravel,
And touch the fartheft step they travel.
When every pleasure's run a-ground,
And folly tir'd through many a round;
The nymph, conceiving discontent hence,
May ripen to an hour's repentance,
And vapours, fhed in pious moisture,
Difmifs her to a church, or cloyster;
Then on I lead her with devotion
Confpicuous in her dress, and motion,
Infpire the heav'nly-breathing air,
Roll up the lucid eye in pray'r,
Soften the voice, and in the face
Look melting harmony, and grace.
Thus far extends my friendly pow'r,
Nor quits her in her latest hour;
The couch of decent pain I spread,
In form recline her languid head,
Her thoughts I methodize in death,
And part not, with her parting breath;
Then do I fet, in order bright,
A length of funeral pomp to fight,
The glitt'ring tapers, and attire,
The plumes, that whiten o'er her bier ;
And laft, prefenting to her eye
Angelic fineries on high,
To fcenes of painted blifs I waft her,
And form the heav'n the hopes hereafter.
In truth, rejoin'd Love's gentle God,
You've gone a tedious length of road,
And strange, in all the toilfome way,
No house of kind refreshment lay,
No nymph, whofe virtues might have tempted
To hold her from her fex exempted.
For one, we'll never quarrel, man;
Take her, and keep her, if you can;
And pleas'd I yield to your petition,
Since every fair, by fuch permiffion,
Will hold herself the one felected,
And fo my fyftem ftands protected.
O, deaf to virtue, deaf to glory,
To truths divinely vouch'd in ftory!
The Godhead in his zeal return'd,
And kindling at her malice burn'd.
Then sweetly rais'd his voice, and told
Of heav'nly nymphs, rever'd of old;
Hypfipile, who fav'd her fire;
And Portia's love, approv'd by fire,
Alike Penelope was quoted,
Nor laurel'd Daphne pafs' unnoted,
Nor Laodamia's fatal garter,
Nor fam'd Lucretia, honour's martyr,
Alcefte's voluntary steel,
And Catherine, fmiling on the wheel.
But who can hope to plant conviction
Where cavil grows on contradiction?
Some the evades or difavows,
Demurs to all, and none allows;
A kind of ancient things, call'd fables!
And thus the Goddess turn'd the tables.
Now both in argument grew high,
And choler flash'd from either eye;
Nor wonder each refus'd to yield
The conquest of fo fair a field.
When happily arriv'd in view
A Goddefs, whom our grandames knew,
Of afpect grave, and fober gaite,
Majeftic, awful, and sedate,
As heav'n's autumnal eve ferene,
When not a cloud o'ercafts the scene;
Once Prudence call'd, a matron fam'd,
And in old Rome, Cornelia nam'd.
Quick at a venture, both agree
To leave their ftrife to her decree.
And now by each the facts were stated,
In form and manner as related;
The cafe was fhort. They crav'd opinion,
Which held o'er females chief dominion?
When thus the Goddefs, answering mild,
First shook her gracious head, and smil'd.
Alas, how willing to comply,
Yet how unfit a judge am I!
In times of golden date, 'tis true,
I fhar'd the fickle fex with you,
But from their prefence long precluded,
Or held as one, whofe form intruded,
Full fifty annual funs can tell,
Prudence has bid the fex farewell.
In this dilemma what to do,
Or who to think of neither knew ;
For both, ftill biafs'd in opinion,
And arrogant of sole dominion,
Were forc'd to hold the cafe compounded,
Or leave the quarrel where they found it.
When in the nick, a rural fair,
Of inexperienc'd gaite, and air,
Who ne'er had crofs'd the neighb'ring lake,
Nor feen the world beyond a wake,
With cambrick coif, and kerchief clean,
Tript lightly by them o'er the green.
Now, now! cry'd Love's triumphant Child,
And at approaching conqueft fmil'd,
If Vanity will once be guided,
Our diff'rence may be foon decided:
Behold yon wench; a fit occafion
To try your force of gay persuasion.
Go you, while I retire aloof,
Go, put those boafted pow'rs to proof;
And if your prevalence of art
Tranfcends my yet unerring dart,
I give the fav'rite contest o'er,
And ne'er will boaft my empire more.
At once, fo faid, and fo confented;
And well our Goddefs feem'd contented;
Nor paufing, made a moment's stand,
But tript, and took the girl in hand.
Mean while the Godhead, unalarm'd, As one to each occasion arm'd, Forth from his quiver cull'd a dart, That erft had wounded many a heart; Then, bending, drew it to the head; The bow-ftring twang'd, the arrow fled, And, to her fecret soul address'd, Transfix'd the whiteness of her breast.
But here the Dame whofe guardian care Had to a moment watch'd the fair, At once her pocket mirror drew, And held the wonder full in view; As quickly, rang'd in order bright, A thousand beauties rufh to fight; A world of charms, till now unknown, A world, reveal'd to her alone : Enraptur'd stands the love-fick maid, Sufpended o'er the darling fhade, Here only fixes to admire, And centers every fond defire,
POVERTY! thou fource of human art,
Thou great infpirer of the poet's fong!
In vain Apollo dictates, and the Nine
Attend in vain, unless thy mighty hand
Direct the tuneful lyre. Without thy aid
The canvas breathes no longer. Mufic's charms,
Uninfluenc'd by thee, forget to please :
Thou giv'ft the organ found; by thee the flute
Breathes harmony; the tuneful viol owns
Thy pow'rful touch. The warbling voice is thine:
Thou gav'ft to Nicolini every grace,
And every charm to Farinelli's fong.
By thee the lawyer pleads. The soldier's arm
Is nerv'd by thee. Thy pow'r the gown-man feels,
And, urg'd by thee, unfolds heav'n's myftic truths.
The haughty fair, that fwells with proud disdain,
And smiles at mischiefs, which her eyes have made,
Thou humblest to submit and bless mankind.
Hail, Pow'r omnipotent! Me uninvok'd
Thou deign'ft to vifit, far, alas! unfit
To bear thy awful prefence. O, retire!
At distance let me view thee; left too nigh,
I fink beneath the terrors of thy face!
"Tis love, like the fun, that gives light to the year,
The sweetest of bleffings that life can endear;
Our pleasures it brightens, drives forrow away,
Gives joy to the night, and enlivens the day
COLLIN.
With Phebe befide me, the seasons how gay!
Then Winter's bleak months feem as pleasant as
May;
The Summer's gay verdure springs ftill as she treads,
And linnets and nightingales fing through the meads.
PHEBE.
When Collin is abfent 'tis Winter all round,
How faint is the funfhine, how barren the ground!
Inftead of the linnet and nightingale's fong,
I hear the hoarfe raven croak all the day long.
Вотн.
'Tis love, like the fun, &c.
O'er hill, dale and valley my Phebe and I
Together will wander, and love shall be by:
Her Collin fhall guard her fafe all the long day,
And Phebe at night all his pains shall repay.
PHEBE.
By moonlight, when fhadows glide over the plain,
His kiffes fhall chear me, his arm fhall fuftain;
The dark haunted grove I can trace without fear,
Or fleep in a church-yard, if Collin is near.
'Tis love, like the fun, &c.
Ye fhepherds that wanton it over the plain,
How fleeting your transports, how lafting your pain,
Inconftancy fhun, and reward the kind the,
And learn to be happy of Phebe and me.
Ye nymphs, who the pleasures of love never try'd, Attend to my ftrains, and take me for your guide; Your hearts keep from pride and inconftancy free, And learn to be happy of Collin and me,
S Phillis the gay, at the break of the day, Went forth to the meadows a maying, A clown lay asleep by a river so deep, That round in meanders was ftraying.
His bofom was bare, and for whiteness so rare,
Her heart it was gone without warning,
With cheeks of fuch hue, that the rose wet with
dew,
Ne'er look'd half so fresh in a morning.
She cull'd the new hay, and down by him she lay,
Her wishes too warm for difguifing ;
She play'd with his eyes, till he walk'd in furprize,
And blush'd like the fun at his rifing.
ET rakes for pleasure range the town,
Or mixers doat on golden guineas,
Let plenty fmile, or fortune frown,
The sweets of love are mine and Jenny's.
SHE.
Let wanton maids indulge defire,
How foon the fleeting pleasure gone is! The joys of virtue never tire, And fuch shall still be mine and Johnny's. Вот н.
Together let us sport and play,
And live in pleasure where no fin is;
The priest shall tie the knot to-day,
And wedlock's bands make Johnny Jenny's,
HE.
Let roving fwains young hearts invade,
The pleasure ends in fhame and folly ;
So Willy woo'd, and then betray'd
The poor, believing, fimple Molly.
So Lucy lov'd, and lightly toy'd,
And laugh'd at harmless maids who marry;
But now she finds her shepherd cloy'd,
And chides too late her faithlefs Harry.
Вот н.
But we'll together sport and play,
And live in pleasure where no fin is;
The priest fhall tie the knot to-day,
And wedlock's bands make Johnny Jenny's.
HE.
By cooling ftreams our flocks we'll feed,
And leave deceit to knaves and ninnies;
Or fondly stray where love fhall lead,
And every joy be mine and Jenny's.
SHE.
Let guilt the faithlefs bofom fright,
The conftant heart is always bonny; Content, and peace, and sweet delight
And love fhall live with me and Johnny.
O make the wife kind, and to keep the house
You must be of her mind, let her fay what the will;
In all that she does you must give her her way,
For tell her she's wrong, and you lead her aftray.
CHORUS.
Then, husbands, take care, of fufpicion beware,
Your wives may be true, if you fancy they are;
With confidence trust them, and be not fuch elves,
As to make by your jealousy horns for yourselves.
II.
Abroad all the day if the chufes to roam, Seem pleas'd with her absence, she'll figh to come home;
The man fhe likes best, and longs moft to get at, Be sure to commend, and she'll hate him for that. CHORUS.
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