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HE SI O D:

OR,

THE RISE OF WOMAN.

WH

THAT antient times (thofe times we fancy wife)
Have left on long record of woman's rise,
What morals teach it, and what fables hide,
What author wrote it, how that author dy'd,
All these I fing. In Greece they fram❜d the tale
(In Greece 'twas thought a woman might be frail);
Ye modern beauties! where the Poet drew

His fofteft pencil, think he dreamt of you;
And, warn'd by him, ye wanton pens beware
How Heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the fair.
The cafe was Hefiod's; he the fable writ;
Some think with meaning, fome with idle wit:
Perhaps 'tis either, as the Ladies please ;
I wave the conteft, and commence the lays.
In days of yore (no matter where or when,
'Twas ere the low creation fwarm'd with men)
That one Prometheus, fprung of heavenly birth,
(Our Author's fong can witness) liv'd on earth :
He carv'd the turf to mold a manly frame,
And stole from Jove his animating flame.
The fly contrivance o'er Olympus ran,
When thus the Monarch of the Stars began:

O vers'd in arts! whose daring thoughts aspire, To kindle clay with never-dying fire!

Enjoy thy glory past, that gift was thine;

The next thy creature meets, be fairly mine:
And fuch a gift, a vengeance fo defign'd,

As fuits the counsel of a God to find;
A pleafing bofom-cheat, a fpecious ill,

Which felt the curfe, yet covets ftill to feel.

He faid, and Vulcan strait the Sire commands, To temper mortar with ætherial hands;

In such a shape to mold a rifing fair,
As virgin goddeffes are proud to wear;
To make her eyes with diamond-water fhine,
And form her organs for a voice divine.

"Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the Power obey'd;
And work'd, and wonder'd at the work he made;
The faireft, foftest, sweetest frame beneath,
Now made to seem, now more than seem to breathe.
As Vulcan ends, the chearful Queen of Charms
Clafp'd the new-panting creature in her arms :
From that embrace a fine complexion spread,
Where mingled whitenefs glow'd with softer red.
Then in a kiss fhe breath'd her various arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts;
A mind for love, but ftill a changing mind;
The lifp affected, and the glance defign'd;
The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink,
The gentle swimming walk, the courteous fink;
The stare for strangenefs fit, for fcorn the frown;
For decent yielding, looks declining down ;

The practis'd languish, where well-feign'd defire
Would own its melting in a mutual fire;
Gay fmiles to comfort; April showers to move ;
And all the nature, all the art of love.

Gold scepter'd Juno next exalts the fair;
Her touch endows her with imperious air,
Self-valuing fancy, highly-crested pride,
Strong fovereign will, and fome defire to chide;
For which, an eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native tropes of anger, arms the sex.
Minerva, skilful goddefs, train'd the maid
To twirle the spindle by the twisting thread;
To fix the loom, inftruct the reeds to part,
Crofs the long weft, and close the web with art,
An ufeful gift; but what profuse expence,
What world of fashions, took its rife from hence!
Young Hermes next, a close contriving God,
Her brows encircled with his ferpent rod;
Then plots and fair excufes fill'd her brain,
The views of breaking amorous vows for gain;
The price of favours; the defigning arts
That aim at riches in contempt of hearts;
And, for a comfort in the marriage life,
The little pilfering temper of a wife.

Full on the fair his beams Apollo flung,
And fond perfuafion tipp'd her eafy tongue;
He gave her words, where oily flattery lays
The pleafing colours of the art of praise;
And wit, to fcandal exquifitely prone,
Which frets another's fpleen to cure its own.

Those facred Virgins whom the Bards revere,
Tun'd all her voice, and fhed a sweetness there,
To make her fenfe with double charms abound,
Or make her lively nonfenfe please by found.

To dress the maid, the decent Graces brought
A robe in all the dies of beauty wrought,
And plac'd their boxes o'er a rich brocade,
Where pictur'd Loves on every cover play'd;
Then spread those implements that Vulcan's art
Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's heart;
The wire to curl, the clofe indented comb
To call the locks, that lightly wander, home;
And chief, the mirrour, where the ravish'd maid
Beholds and loves her own reflected fhade.

Fair Flora lent her ftores; the purpled Hours
Confin'd her treffes with a wreath of flowers;
Within the wreath arose a radiant crown;
A veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure veil with ferpent fold,
The purfled border deck'd the floor with gold.
Her robe (which closely by the girdle brac’d
Reveal'd the beauties of a flender waist)
Flow'd to the feet, to copy Venus' air,
When Venus' ftatues have a robe to wear.

The new-fprung creature, finish'd thus for harms, Adjusts her habit, practises her charms,

With blushes glows, or fhines with lively smiles,
Confirms her will, or recollects her wiles :
Then, confcious of her worth, with eafy pace
Glides by the glass, and turning views her face.

A finer flax than what they wrought before, Through Time's deep cave, the Sifter Fates explore, Then fix the loom, their fingers nimbly weave, And thus their toil prophetic fongs deceive.

Flow from the rock, my flax! and swiftly flow, Pursue thy thread; the fpindle runs below. A creature fond and changing, fair and vain, The creature woman, rifes now to reign. New beauty blooms, a beauty form'd to fly; New love begins, a love produc'd to die; New parts distress the troubled scenes of life, The fondling mistress, and the ruling wife.

Men born to labour, all with pains provide ; Women have time to facrifice to pride: They want the care of man, their want they know, And dress to please with heart-alluring show; The show prevailing, for the fway contend, And make a fervant where they meet a friend. Thus in a thousand wax-erected forts A loitering race the painful bee fupports; From fun to fun, from bank to bank he flies, With honey loads his bag, with wax his thighs; Fly where he will, at home the race remain, Prune the filk drefs, and murmuring eat the gain. Yet here and there we grant a gentle bride, Whose temper betters by the father's fide; Unlike the reft that double human care, Fond to relieve, or refolute to share : Happy the man whom thus his ftars advance! The curfe is general, but the bleffing chance.

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