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Snarlers, to whose feeble sense
April's funshine is offence;
Age and envy will advise
Even against the joy they prize.
Come, in pleature's balmy bowl
Slake the thirstings of thy foul,
Till thy raptur'd pow'rs are fainting
With enjoyment paft the painting;
Faireft, doft thou yet delay
Brightest beauty, come away.
So fuug the Sirens, as of yore,
Upon the falfe Aufonian thore;
And O! for that preventing chain,
That bound Ulyffes on the main,
That fo our Fair One might withstand
The covert ruin, now at hand.

The fong her charm'd attention drew,
When now the tempters ftood in view;
Curiofity, with prying eyes,
And hands of busy bold emprife;
Like Hermes, feather'd were her feet;
And, like fore-running Fancy, fleet;
By fearch untanght, by toil untir'd,
To novelty the ttill aspir'd,
Taftelefs of every good poffeft,
And but in expectation bleft.

With her, affociate, Pleasure came,
Gay Pleafure, frolic-loving dame,
Her mien all (wimming in delight,
Her beauties half reveal'd to fight;
Loofe flow'd her garments from the ground,
And caught the kithing winds around,
As erft Medufa's looks were known
To turn beholders into ftone,
A dire reversion here they felt,
And in the eye of Pleasure melt.

Her glance with fweet perfuafion charm`d,
Unnerv'd the ftrong, the fteel disarm'd;
No fafety cv'n the flying find,
Who, vent'rous, look but once behind.

Thus was the much-admiring Maid,
While diftant, more than half betray'd.
With fmiles, and adulation bland,
They join'd her fide, and feiz'd her hand;
Their touch envenom'd fweets initill'd,
Her frame with new pulfations thrill'd;
While half confenting, half denying,
Reluctant now, and now complying,
Amidst a war of hopes and fears,
Of trembling withes, fmiling tears,
Stui ɑown and down, the winning pair
Compell'd the ftruggling, yielding Fair.
As when fome ftately veile, bound
To bleft Arabia's distant ground,
Borne from her courfes, haply lights
Where Barca's flow'ry clime invites,
Conceal'd around whole treach'rous land
Lurk the dire rock and dang`rous fand;
The pilot warns, with fail and oar
To thun the much-fufpected thore,
In vai, the tide, too fubtly ftrong,
Still b is the wrestling bark along,
Till, found'ring, the refigns to fit,
And finke, o`erwhelm'd, with all her freight.

So, baffling ev'ry bar to fin,
And Heav'ns own pilot plac'd within,
Along the devious, fmooth defcent,
With pow'rs increafing as they went,
The dames, accuftom'd to fubdue,
As with a rapid current drew,
And o'er the fatal bounds convey'd
The loft, the long-reluctant Maid.

Here ftop, ye fair ones, and beware,
Nor fend your fond affections there;
Yet, yet your darling, now deplor'd,
May turn to you and heav'n restor'd;
Till then, with weeping Honour wait,
The fervant of her better fate;
With Honour, left upon the shore,
Her friend and handmaid now no more;
Nor, with the guilty world, upbraid
The fortunes of a wretch betray'd;
But o'er her failing caft a veil,
Rememb'ring you yourfelves are frail.

And now from all-enquiring light,
Faft fled the confcious fhades of night;
The Damfel, from a thort repofe,
Confounded at her plight, arole.

As when with flumb'rous weight oppre Some wealthy mifer finks to reft, Where felons eye the glitt ring prey, And fteal his hoard of joys away; He, borne where golden Indus it reams, Of pearl and quarry'd diamond dreams, Like Midas, turns the glebe to ore, And ftands all rapt amidit his ftore; But wakens, naked and defpoil'd, Of that for which his years had toil'd:

So far'd the Nymph, her treafure flown, And turn'd, like Niobe, to ftone; Within, without, obfcure and void, She felt all ravag'd, all deftroy'd. And, O thou curs'd, infidious coaft! Are thefe the bleffings thou canst boat? Thefe, Virtue! thefe the joys they find, Who leave thy heaven-topt hills behind? Shade me, ye pines, ye caverns hide, Ye mountains, cover me, the cried.

Her trumpet Slander rais'd on high, And told the tidings to the fky; Contempt difcharg'd a living dart, A fide-long viper to her heart; Reproach breath'd poitons o'er her face, And foil'd aud blafted ev`ry grace; Othcious Shame, her handmaid new, Still turn'd the mirror to her view, While thefe in crimes the deepest dyed Approach'd to whiten at her fide: And ev'ry lewd infulting dame Upon her folly role to fame.

What thould the do? Attempt once mor To gain the late deferted fhore? So trufting, back the Mourner flew, As faft the train of fiends purfue.. Again the farther fhore's attain'd, Again the land of virtue gain'd; But echo gathers in the wind, And the Ler inftant foes behind.

Am

Amaz't with headlong speed the tends,
Where it the left an host of friends;
As role fhrinking friends decline,
ang own that form divine:
We fear they mark the following cry,
And for the lonely trembler fly,
Or backward drive her on the coaft,
Where peace was wreck'd and honour lost.
Futtens hoping aid in vain,
To Have not daring to complain;
No trace hoftile clamour given,
At the face of friendship driven,
Te funk proftrate on the ground
Liter weight of woes around.
Fed within a circling sky,
Tant o'er mountains high,
Adat, as in a fhrine,
1- E eluence divine;
it shove the fcenes of woe,
The

thi, cloud-wrapt world below;
ergoddets, effence bright,
fancreated light,

T

held mortality furvey,
t'd upon a certain day,
a of frailty must expire,
defolve in living fire,
be ven and folar flame,
d by her eternal beam,
re, quick'ning in her eye,
The new-born phoenix die.
Hence, inreveal'd to mortal view,
Avelar and her form the threw,
With fad fifters of the fhade,
and Melancholy, made.
all-enquiring eye
f her ftation high,
Bet, ba'd to defpair,
Thereof be fav'rite fair;
And with a voice whofe awful found
April'd the guilty world around,
Be the taalruous winds be still,
Tranters bow'd each lift ning hill,
Caced the farging of the main
Admouth'd the thorny bed of pain;
Tiden harp of heaven fhe ftrung,
As the tuneful goddess sung:

Lovely Penitent arife,
Come, and claim thy kindred skies;
Ce, thy filter angels fay
Thou has wept thy ftains away.
Let experience now decide
Twixt the good and evil tried;
In the fmooth, enchanted ground,
Say, untold the treasures found.

Structures, rais'd by morning dreams;
Sands, that trip the fitting streams;
Down, that anchors on the air;
Clouda, that paint their changes there;

Seas, that fmoothly dimpling lie,
Wat the ftorm impends on high,
Stewing, in an obvious glafs,
Jyth in potleffion país;

Tranfient, fickle, light, and gay, Flatt'ring, only to betray; What, alas. can life contain! Life! like all its circles-vain. Will the ftork, intending rest, On the billow build her neft? Will the bee demnand his store From the bleak and bladeless shore ?

Man alone. intent to stray, Ever turns from wifdom's way; Lays up wealth in foreign land, Sows the fea, and ploughs the fand. Soon this elemental mafs,

Soon the incumb'ring world fhall pass &
Form be wrapt in wafting fire,
Time be spent, and life expire.

Then, ye boafted works of men,
Where is your asylum then?
Sons, of pleasure, fons of care,
Tell me, mortals, tell me where ?

Gone, like traces on the deep,
Like a fceptred grafp'd in fleep,
Dews exhal'd from morning glades,
Melting fnows, and gliding shades.

País the world, and what's behind?
Virue's gold. by fire refin'd;
From an universe deprav'd,
From the wreck of nature fav'd.

Like the life-fupporting grain,
Fruit of patience and of pain,
On the fwain's autumnal day,
Winnow'd from the chaff away.

Little trembler, fear no more,
Thou haft plenteous crops in ftore,
Seed, by genial forrows fown,
More than all thy fcorners own,

What tho' hoftile earth defpife, Heaven heholds with gentler eyes; Heaven thy friendlefs fteps fhall guide Cheer thy hours and guard thy fide.

When the fatal trump fhall found,
When th' immortals pour around,
Heaven fhall thy return atteft,
Hail'd by myriads of the bleft.

Little native of the skies,
Lovely penitent, arise;
Calm thy bofom, clear thy brow,
Virtue is thy fifter now.

More delightful are my woes
Than the rapture pleasure knows:
Richer far the weeds I bring
Than the robes that grace a king.

On my wars of fhortest date,
Crowns of endless triumph wait;
On my cares a period bleft;
On my toils eternal rest.

Come, with Virtue at thy fide;
Come, be ev'ry bar defied,
Till we gain our native shore ;
Sifter, come, and turn no more.
N 2

§ 325.

§325. FABLE XVI. Love and Vanity. THE breezy morning breath'd perfume, The wak'ning flow'rs unveil their bloom, Up with the fun, from fhort repose, Gay health and lufty labour role; The milkmaid caroll'd at her pail, And thepherds whittled o'er the dale: When Love, who led a rural life, Remote from bustle, ftate, and strife, Forth from his thatch-roof'd cottage stray'd, And troil'd along the dewy glade.

A Nymph, who lightly tripp'd it by, To quick attention turn'd his eye; He mark'd the gefture of the Fair, Her felf-fufficient grace and air, Her fteps that mincing, meant to please, Hor ftudied neglience and ease; And curious to enquire what meant This thing of prettiness and paint, Approaching poke, and bow'd obfervant; The lady lightly,—Sir, your fervant. Such beauty in fo rude a place! Fair one, you do the country grace; At court no doubt the public care, But Love has fmall acquaintance there. Yes, Sir, replied the flutt'ring Dame, This form confeffes whence it came; But dear variety, you know, Can make us pride and pomp forego. My name is Vanity. I fway The utmost islands of the fea; Within my court all honour centres; I raise the meanest foul that enters, Endow with latent gifts and graces, And model fools for pofts and places.

As Vanity appoints at pleasure,
The world receives its weight and measure;
Hence all the grand concerns of life,
Joys, cares, plagues, paffions, peace, and ftrife.
Reflect how far my pow'r prevails,
When I ftep in where nature fails,
And ev'ry breach of fenfe repairing,
Am bounteous ftill where heaven is fparing.
But chief in all their arts and airs,
Their playing, painting, pouts, and pray`rs,
Their various habits, and complexions,
Fits, frolics, foibles, and perfections,
Their robing, curling, and adorning,
From noon to night, from night to morning,
From fix to fixty, fick or found,
I rule the female world around.
Hold there a moment, Cupid cried,
Nor boaft dominion quite fo wide.
Was there no province to invade,
But that by Love and Meckness sway'd?
All other empire I refign;
But be the fphere of beauty mine.

For in the downy lawn of reft,
That opens on a woman's breast,
Attended by my peaceful train,
I choose to live, and choofe to reign.
Far-fighted faith I bring along,
And truth above an army strong;

And chastity of icy mould,
Within the burning tropics cold;
And lowlinefs to whofe mild brow
The pow'r and pride of nations bow;
And modefty, with downcaft eye,
That lends the morn her virgin dye;
And innocence, array'd in light;
And honour, as a tow'r upright;
With fweetly winning graces more
Than poets ever dreamt of yore,
In unaffected conduct free,
All fmiling fifters, three times three;
And rofy peace, the cherub bleft,
That nightly fings us all to reft.

Hence, from the bud of nature's prime,
From the firft ftep of infant time,
Woman, th' world's appointed light,
Has fkirted ev'ry thade with white;
Has ftood for imitation high,
To ev'ry heart and ev'ry eye,

From ancient deeds of fair renown,
Has brought her bright memorials down: 'n
To time affix'd perpetual youth,
And form'd each tale of love and truth.
Upon a new Promethean plan
She moulds the effence of a man,
Tempers his mafs, his genius fires,
And, as a better foul infpires.

The rude the softens, warms the cold,
Exalts the meek, and checks the bold,
Calls floth from his fupine repose,
Within the coward's botom glows,
Of pride unplumes the lofty crest,
Bid's bafhful merlt ftand confeft,
And, like coarse metal from the mines,
Collects, irridiates, and refines.
The gentle science the imparts,
All manners fmooths, informs all hearts;
From her fweet inflnence are felt
Paffions that pleafe, and thoughts that melt;
To ftormy rage the bids centroul,
And finks ferenely on the foul,
Softens Deucalion's flinty race,
And tunes the warring world to peace.
Thus arm'd to all that's light and vain,
And freed from thy fantaftic chain,
She fills the fphere by Heaven affign'd,
And, rul'd by me, o`er-rules mankind.

He fpoke, The Nymph impatient stood, And, laughing, thus her fpeech renew'd: And pray, Sir, may I be fʊ bold To hope your pretty tale is told; And next demand without a cavil, What new Utopia do you travel ?--Upon my word these high-flown fancies, Shew depth of learning in romances.

Why what unfafhion'd ftuff you tell us Of buckram dames and tiptoe fellows! Go, child; and when your grown maturer, You'll shoot yonr next opinion furer,

O fuch a pretty knack at painting! And all for foft'ning and for fainting! Guefs now, who can, a tingle feature, Thro' the whole piece of female nature;

Then, my loofer hand may fit The tou coarfe for Love to hit. Tis ad that woman, prone to changing, Thru all the rounds of folly ranging, Crates uncertain ocean riding, No reason, rule, nor rudder guiding, Is the comet's wand ring light, Eccentric, ominous, and bright; Tacklers, and fhifting as the wind; As we fathom none can find; A changing and revolving; Antall human folving; A bits, a plague, a heaven, a hell; Aething that no man can tell. Now learn a fecret from a friend, But sep your counfel, and attend. Thin their tempers thought so distant, bar with their fex nor selves confistent, Tis but the difference of a name, And ev'ry woman is the fame; For the world, however varied, And through unnumber'd changes carried, Celementai modes and forms,

Cs, meteors, colours, calms and ftorms, The 21tuland fuits array'd,

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efect matter made;

Se, a woman's conftitution,
The 's enigma, finds folution;
And let her form be what you will,
I reubiect effence still.

Wthe art fpark of female sense,
Theek of being, I commence,
We wonb make fresh advances,
Are future qualms and fancies;
The growing form expand,
Wood travel hand in hand,
Asi gene for all their joys
Legies, pomp, and noise.
And, far and unaw`d,
I ad te futt ng foul abroad,
Pro for her hape, her air, her mien,
The tie goddels, and the queen,
Teater intant farine oblation,

aks weet draughts of adulation. booming, tall, erect, and fair, Tots becomes her darling care; Tams of beauty then I bound;

he hoop's enchanted round,
the waift's defcending size,
Ha the fnowy bofom, rile,
the flowing lappet fail,
din treffes, kifs the gale.
her glafs I lead the fair,
w the lovely idol there;
, ftruck as by divine emotion,
rows with moit fincere devotion,
tumb'ring ev'ry beauty o'er,
ret bids the world adore.
Tn all for parking and parading,
eting, dancing, mafquerading:

alls, pays, courts, and crowds what paffion! churches, fometimes-if the fashion; woman's fenfe of right and wrong d by the almighty throng;

Still turns to each meander tame,
And fwims the straw of ev'ry stream.
Her foul intrinfic worth rejects,
Accomplish'd only in defects;
Such excellence is her ambition,
Folly her wifeft acquifition;
And even from pity and difdain
She 'll cu!l fome reafon to be vain.

Thus, Sir, from ev'ry form and feature,
The wealth and wants of female nature,
And ev'n from vice, which you 'd admire,
I gather fuel to my fire;
And on the very base of shame
Erect my monument of fame.

Let me another truth attempt,

Of which your godfhip has not dreamt.
Thofe fhining virtues, which you muster,
Whence think you they derive their luftre?
From native honour and devotion?
O yes, a mighty likely notion!
Trust me, from titled dames to spinners,
'Tis I make faints, whoe'er makes finners;
'Tis I inftruct them to withdraw,
And hold prefumptuous man in awe;
For female worth, as I infpire,

In just degrees, ftill mounts the higher;
And virtue, fo extremely nice,
Demands long toil and mighty price,
Like Samfon's pillars, fix'd elate,
I bear the fex's tott'ring state;
Sap thefe, and in a moment's fpace
Down finks the fabric to its bafe.

Alike from titles and from toys
I fpring, the fount of female joys
In ev'ry widow, wife, and mifs,
The fole artificer of blifs;
For them each topic I explore,
I cleave the fand of ev'ry thore
To them uniting Indias fail,
Sabaa 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 beftow,
They hold the fov'reign balm of woe,
Beyond the ftoic's boasted art
I footh the heavings of the heart;
To pain give fplendor and relief,"
And gild the pallid face of grief.

Alike the palace and the plain
Admit the glories of my reign!
Thro' ev'ry age, in ev'ry nation,
Tafte, talents, tempers, itate, and station,
Whate'er a woman fays, I fay;
Whate'er a woman fpends, I pay;
Alike I fill and empty bags,
Flutter in finery and rags,

With light coquettes thro' 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'am in the mocd,
Kindly permit me to conclude,

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Their utmost mazes to unravel,
And touch the fartheft step they travel.
When ev'ry pleasure 's run aground,
And folly tir'd thro' many a round,
The nymph, conceiving difcontent hence,
May ripen to an hour's repentance,
And vapours, shed in pious moisture,
Difmifs her to a church, or cloyster;
Then on I lead her, with devotion
Confpicuous in her drefs and motion,
Infpire the heavenly-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 lateft 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 fun'ral pomp to fight.
The glitt'ring tapers and attire,
The plumes that whiten o'er the bier;
And last, prefenting to her eye
Angelic fineries on high,

To fcenes of painted blifs I waft her,
And form the heaven the hopes hereafter.

In truth rejoin'd love's gentle god,
You've gone a tedious length of road,
And, ftrange, in all the toillome way
No houfe 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 ev'ry fair, by fuch permiffion,
Will hold herself the one felected;
And fo my fyftem stands 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 fweetly rais'd his voice, and told
Of heav'nly nymphs, rever'd of old;
Hypfipyle, who fav'd her fire,
And Portia's love, approv'd by fire;
Alike Penelope was quoted,
Nor laurel'd Daphne pafs'd unnoted,
Nor Laodamia's fatal garter,
Nor fam'd Lucretia, honour's martyr,
Alcefte's voluntary steel,

And Catherine, fimiling on the wheel.
But who can hope to plant conviction
Where cavil grows on contradiction?
Some the evades or ditàvows,
Demurs to all, and none allows-
A kind of ancient thing called tables!
And thus the Goddefs turn'd the tables.

Now both in argument grew high,
Ard choler flash'd from either eye;
Nor wonder each refis'd to yield
The conquest of fɔ air a field.

When happily arriv'd in view
A Goddefs whom our grand-dames knew,
Of afpe&t grave, and fober gait,
Majeftic, awful, and fedate,

As heaven's autumnal eve ferene,
When not a cloud o'ercafts the fcene;
Once Prudence cali'd, a matron fam'd,
And in old Rome Cornelia nam`d.
Quick at a venture both agree
To leave their trife to her deeree.

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, anfw'ring mild,
Firft fhook her gracious head, and fmil'da
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 fole 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 gait and air, Who ne'er had crois'd the neighb'ring lak Nor feen the world beyond a wake, With cambric coif, and kerchief clean, Tripp'd lightly by them o'er the green.

Now, now! cried Love's triumphant chi And at approaching conqueft fmil'd, If Vanity will once be guided, Our diff'rence foon may be decided; Behold yon wench, a fit occafion To try your force of gay perfuafion. 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 conteft o'er, And ne'er will boast my empire more.

At once, fo faid, and fo confented; And well our Goddefs feem'd contented; Nor paufing made a moment's ftand, But tripp'd. and took the girl in hand.

Meanwhile the Godhead, unalarm'd, As one to each occafion arm`d, Forth from his quiver cull'd a dart, That erit had wounded many a heart; Then bending, drew it to the head; The bowftring twang'd, the arrow fled, And to her fecret foul addreft, Transfix'd the whitenefs 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;

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