Chapter II: Part 2

"In age rejected, or declin'd,
An ALIEN ev'n among thy kind,
The partner of thy scorn'd embrace
Shall play the wanton in thy face;
Each spark unplume thy little pride,
All friendship fly thy faithless side;
Thy name shall, like thy carcase, rot,
In sickness spurn'd, in death forgot.

"All-giving POW'R! great source of life!
O hear the parent! hear the wife!
That life thou lendest from above,
Though little, make it large in love;
O bid my feeling heart expand
To ev'ry claim, on ev'ry hand;
To those, from whom my days I drew,
To these in whom those days renew;
To all my kin, however wide,
In cordial warmth, as blood ally'd,
To friends with steely fetters twin'd,
And to the cruel, not unkind!
But chief, the lord of my desire,
My life, myself, my soul, my sire;
Friends, children, all that wish can claim,
Chaste passion clasp, and rapture name!
O spare him, spare him, GRACIOUS POW'R!
O give him to my latest hour!
Let me my length of life employ,
To give my sole enjoyment joy;
His love, let mutual love excite,
Turn all my cares to his delight,
And ev'ry needless blessing spare,
Wherein my darling wants a share.
When he with graceful action woos,
And sweetly bills and fondly coos,
Ah! deck me to his eyes alone,
With charms attractive as his own,
And in my circling wings caress'd,
Give all the lover to my breast.
Then in our chaste, connubial bed,
My bosom pillow'd for his head,
His eyes with blissful slumbers close,
And watch, with me, my lord's repose;
Your peace around his temples twine,
And love him with a love like mine.

"And, for I know his gen'rous flame,
Beyond whate'er my sex can claim,
Me, too, to your protection take,
And spare me for my husband's sake;
Let one unruffled calm delight
The loving and belov'd unite;
One pure desire our bosoms warm,
One will direct, one wish inform;
Through life one mutual aid sustain,
In death one peaceful grave contain."

While, swelling with the darling theme,
Her accents pour'd an endless stream,
The well-known wings a sound impart,
That reach'd her ear, and touch'd her heart;
Quick dropp'd the music of her tongue,
And forth, with eager joy, she sprung;
As swift her ent'ring consort flew,
And plum'd and kindled at the view;
Their wings, their souls, embracing meet,
Their hearts with answ'ring measure beat;
Half lost in sacred sweets, and bless'd
With raptures felt, but ne'er express'd.

Straight to her humble roof she led
The partner of her spotless bed;
Her young, a flutt'ring pair, arise,
Their welcome sparkling in their eyes,
Transported, to their sire they bound,
And hang with speechless action round.
In pleasure wrapt, the parents stand,
And see their little wings expand;
The sire, his life-sustaining prize
To each expecting bill applies;
There fondly pours the wheaten spoil,
With transport giv'n, though won with toil;
While all collected at the sight,
And silent, through supreme delight,
The FAIR high heav'n of bliss beguiles,
And on her lord and infants smiles.

The SPARROW, whose attention hung
Upon the DOVE'S enchanting tongue,
Of all his little slights disarm'd,
And from himself by VIRTUE charm'd,
When now he saw, what only seem'd,
A fact, so late a fable deem'd;
His soul to envy he resign'd,
His hours of folly to the wind;
In secret wish'd a TURTLE too,
And, sighing to himself, withdrew.

FABLE XV.

THE FEMALE SEDUCERS.

'Tis said of WIDOW, MAID, and WIFE,
That honour is a WOMAN'S life;
Unhappy sex! who only claim
A being in the breath of fame,
Which, tainted, not the quick'ning gales
That sweep SABAEA'S spicy vales,
Nor all the healing sweets restore,
That breathe along ARABIA'S shore.

The trav'ller, if he chance to stray,
May turn uncensur'd to his way;
Polluted streams again are pure,
And deepest wounds admit a cure;
But WOMAN! no redemption knows,
The wounds of honour never close.

Tho' distant ev'ry hand to guide,
Nor skill'd on life's tempestuous tide,
If once her feeble bark recede,
Or deviate from the course decreed,
In vain she seeks the friendly shore,
Her swifter folly flies before;
The circling ports against her close,
And shut the wand'rer from repose,
Till by conflicting waves opprest,
Her found'ring pinnace sinks to rest.

Are there no off'rings to atone
For but a single error?--None!
Tho' WOMAN is avow'd of old
No daughter of celestial mould;
Her temp'ring not without allay,
And form'd but of the finer clay;
We challenge from the mortal dame,
The strength angelic natures claim;
Nay more--for sacred stories tell
That ev'n immortal angels fell.

Whatever fills the teeming sphere
Of humid earth, and ambient air,
With varying elements endu'd,
Was form'd to fall, and rise renew'd.

The stars no fix'd duration know;
Wide oceans ebb, again to flow;
The moon repletes her waning face,
All-beauteous, from her late disgrace;
And suns, that mourn approaching night,
Refulgent rise, with new-born light.

In vain may death and time subdue,
While nature mints her race anew,
And holds some vital spark apart,
Like virtue, hid in ev'ry heart;
'Tis hence, reviving warmth is seen,
To clothe a naked world in green;
No longer bared by winter's cold,
Again the gates of life unfold;
Again each insect tries his wing,
And lifts fresh pinions on the spring;
Again from ev'ry latent root
The bladed stem and tendril shoot,
Exhaling incense to the skies,
Again to perish, and to rise.

And must weak WOMAN then disown
The change to which a world is prone?
In one meridian brightness shine,
And ne'er like ev'ning suns decline?
Resolv'd and firm alone?--Is this
What we demand of WOMAN?--Yes!

But should the spark of vestal fire,
In some unguarded hour expire;
Or should the nightly thief invade
HESPERIA'S chaste and sacred shade,
Of all the blooming spoils possess'd,
The dragon, honour, charm'd to rest,
Shall VIRTUE'S flame no more return?
No more with virgin splendour burn?
No more the ravag'd garden blow
With spring's succeeding blossom?--No!
Pity may mourn, but not restore,
And WOMAN falls--to rise no more.

_Lovely Penitent, arise,
Come, and claim thy kindred skies;_

_Page 92._

_London Published by Scatcherd & Letterman, Ave Maria Lane._]

Within this sublunary sphere,
A country lies--no matter where;
The clime may readily be found,
By all who tread poetic ground;
A stream, call'd LIFE, across it glides,
And equally the land divides;
And here, of VICE the province lies,
And there, the hills of VIRTUE rise.

Upon a mountain's airy stand,
Whose summit look'd to either land,
An ancient pair their dwelling chose,
As well for prospect as repose;
For mutual faith they long were fam'd,
And TEMP'RANCE, and RELIGION, nam'd.

A num'rous progeny divine
Confess'd the honours of their line;
But in a little daughter fair
Was center'd more than half their care;
For heav'n, to gratulate her birth,
Gave signs of future joy to earth.
White was the robe this infant wore,
And CHASTITY the name she bore.

As now the maid in stature grew,
(A flow'r just op'ning to the view)
Oft thro' her native lawns she stray'd,
And wrestling with the lambkins play'd;
Her looks diffusive sweets bequeath'd,
The breeze grew purer as she breath'd,
The morn her radiant blush assum'd,
The spring with earlier fragrance bloom'd,
And NATURE yearly took delight,
Like her, to dress the world in white.

But when her rising form was seen
To reach the crisis of fifteen;
Her parents up the mountain's head,
With anxious step, their darling led;
By turns they snatch'd her to their breast,
And thus the fears of age express'd:

"O joyful cause of many a care!
O daughter, too divinely fair!
Yon world, on this important day,
Demands thee to a dang'rous way;
A painful journey all must go,
Whose doubtful period none can know;
Whose due direction who can find,
Where REASON'S mute, and SENSE is blind!
Ah! what unequal leaders these,
Thro' such a wide perplexing maze!
Then mark the warnings of the wise,
And learn what love and years advise.

"Far to the right thy prospect bend,
Where yonder tow'ring hills ascend;
Lo! there the arduous path's in view,
Which VIRTUE, and her sons, pursue;
With toil, o'er less'ning earth they rise,
And gain, and gain upon the skies.--
Narrow's the way her children tread,
No walk for pleasure smoothly spread;
But rough, and difficult, and steep,
Painful to climb, and hard to keep.

"Fruits immature those lands dispense,
A food indelicate to sense,
Of taste unpleasant, yet from those
Pure HEALTH, with cheerful VIGOUR flows;
And strength unfeeling of decay,
Throughout the long laborious way.

"Hence, as they scale that heav'nly road,
Each limb is lighten'd of its load:
From earth refining still they go,
And leave the mortal weight below;
Then spreads the strait, the doubtful clears,
And smooth the rugged path appears;
For custom turns fatigue to ease,
And, taught by VIRTUE, PAIN can please.

"At length, the toilsome journey o'er,
And near the bright celestial shore,
A gulf, black, fearful, and profound,
Appears, of either world the bound.
Thro' darkness, leading up to light,
Sense backward shrinks, and shuns the sight;
For there the transitory train,
Of time, and form, and care, and pain,
And matter's gross incumb'ring mass,
Man's late associates, cannot pass,
But sinking, quit th' immortal charge,
And leave the wond'ring soul at large;
Lightly she wings her obvious way,
And mingles with eternal day.

"Thither, O thither, wing thy speed,
Tho' PLEASURE charm, or PAIN impede;
To such th' all-bounteous pow'r has giv'n,
For present earth, a future heav'n;
For trivial loss, unmeasur'd gain,
And endless bliss, for transient pain.
Then fear, ah! fear, to turn thy sight,
Where yonder flow'ry fields invite;
Wide on the left the path-way bends,
And with pernicious ease descends;
There, sweet to sense, and fair to show,
New-planted EDEN seems to blow;
Trees that delicious poison bear,
For DEATH is vegetable there.

"Hence is the frame of health unbrac'd,
Each sinew slack'ning at the taste;
The soul to passion yields her throne,
And sees with organs not her own;
While, like the slumb'rer in the night,
Pleas'd with the shadowy dream of light,
Before her alienated eyes
The scenes of fairy-land arise;
The puppet-world's amusing show,
Dipt in the gaily colour'd bow;
Sceptres, and wreaths, and glitt'ring things,
The toys of infants and of kings,
That tempt along the baneful plain,
The idly wise, and lightly vain;
Till verging on the gully shore,
Sudden they sink, to rise no more.

"But list to what thy FATES declare,
Tho' thou art WOMAN, frail as fair,
If once thy sliding foot should stray,
Once quit yon heav'n-appointed way,
For thee, lost maid, for thee alone,
Nor pray'rs shall plead, nor tears atone;
Reproach, scorn, infamy, and hate,
On thy returning steps shall wait.--
Thy form be loath'd by ev'ry eye,
And ev'ry foot thy presence fly."

Thus arm'd with words of potent sound,
Like guardian-angels plac'd around;
A charm, by truth divinely cast,
Forward our young advent'rer pass'd.
Forth from her sacred eye-lids sent,
Like morn, fore-running, radiance went,
While HONOUR, hand-maid, late assign'd,
Upheld her lucid train behind.

Awe-struck, the much-admiring crowd
Before the virgin-vision bow'd;
Gaz'd with an ever-new delight,
And caught fresh virtues at the sight;
For not of earth's unequal frame
They deem'd the heav'n-compounded dame,
If matter, sure the most refin'd,
High-wrought, and temper'd into mind,
Some darling daughter of the day,
And body'd by her native ray.

Where'er she passes, thousands bend,
And thousands, where she moves, attend;
Her ways observant eyes confess,
Her steps pursuing praises bless;
While to the elevated maid
Oblations, as to HEAV'N, are paid.

'Twas on an ever-blithsome day,
The jovial birth of rosy MAY,
When genial warmth, no more suppress'd,
New melts the frost in every breast;
The cheek with secret flushing dies,
And looks kind things from chastest eyes;
The SUN with healthier visage glows,
Aside his clouded kerchief throws,
And dances up th' ethereal plain,
Where late he us'd to climb with pain;
While NATURE, as from bonds set free,
Springs out, and gives a loose to glee.

And now for momentary rest,
The nymph her travell'd step repress'd,
Just turn'd to view the stage attain'd,
And glory'd in the height she gain'd.

Out-stretch'd before her wide survey,
The realms of sweet PERDITION lay,
And pity touch'd her soul with woe,
To see a world so lost below;
When straight the breeze began to breathe
Airs, gently wafted from beneath,
That bore commission'd witchcraft thence,
And reach'd her sympathy of sense;
No sounds of discord, that disclose
A people sunk, and lost in woes;
But as of present good possess'd,
The very triumph of the bless'd;
The maid in wrapt attention hung,
While thus approaching SIRENS sung.

'Hither, fairest, hither haste,
Brightest beauty, come and taste
What the pow'rs of bliss unfold;
Joys too mighty to be told;
Taste what ecstasies they give,
Dying raptures taste, and live.

'In thy lap, disdaining measure,
NATURE empties all her treasure;
Soft desires, that sweetly languish,
Fierce delights, that rise to anguish:
Fairest, dost thou yet delay?
Brightest beauty, come away!

'List not, when the froward chide,
Sons of pedantry and pride;
Snarlers, to whose feeble sense
APRIL sun-shine is offence;
Age and envy will advise,
Ev'n against the joys they prize.
Come, in PLEASURE'S balmy bowl
Slake the thirstings of thy soul,
'Till thy raptur'd pow'rs are fainting
With enjoyment, past the painting:
Fairest, dost thou yet delay?
Brightest beauty, come away!'

So sung the SIRENS, as of yore,
Upon the false AUSONIAN shore;
And, O! for that preventing chain,
That bound ULYSSES on the main,
That so our FAIR ONE might withstand
The covert ruin now at hand.

The song her charm'd attention drew,
When now the tempters stood in view;
CURIOSITY with prying eyes,
And hand of busy, bold emprize;
Like HERMES, feather'd were her feet,
And like fore-running fancy fleet;
By search untaught, by toil untir'd,
To novelty she still aspir'd,
Tasteless of ev'ry good possess'd,
And but in expectation bless'd.

With her, associate, PLEASURE came,
Gay PLEASURE, frolic-loving dame!
Her mien, all swimming in delight,
Her beauties, half reveal'd to sight;
Loose flow'd her garments from the ground
And caught the kissing winds around.
As erst MEDUSA'S looks were known
To turn beholders into stone,
A dire reversion here they felt,
And in the eye of pleasure melt.
Her glance of sweet persuasion charm'd,
Unnerv'd the strong, the steel'd disarm'd;
No safety, ev'n the flying find,
Who, vent'rous, looks not once behind.

Thus was the much-admiring maid,
While distant, more than half betray'd.
With smiles, and adulation bland,
They join'd her side, and seiz'd her hand;
Their touch envenom'd sweets instill'd,
Her frame with new pulsations thrill'd,
While half consenting, half denying,
Reluctant now, and now complying,
Amidst a war of hopes and fears,
Of trembling wishes, smiling tears,
Still down, and down, the winning pair
Compell'd the struggling, yielding fair.

As when some stately vessel, bound
To blest ARABIA'S distant ground,
Borne from her courses, haply lights
Where BARCA'S flow'ry clime invites;
Conceal'd around whose treach'rous land,
Lurks the dire rock, and dang'rous sand;
The pilot warns, with sail and oar,
To shun the much-suspected shore
In vain: the tide too subtly strong,
Still bears the wrestling bark along,
Till found'ring, she resigns to fate,
And sinks, o'erwhelmn'd, with all her freight.

So baffling ev'ry bar to sin,
And heav'n's own pilot plac'd within,
Along the devious smooth descent,
With pow'rs increasing as they went,
The DAMES, accustom'd to subdue,
As with a rapid current drew;
And o'er the fatal bounds convey'd
The lost, the long-reluctant maid.

Here stop, ye fair ones, and beware,
Nor send 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 servant 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 cast a veil,
Rememb'ring you, yourselves, are frail.
And now, from all-enquiring light,
Fast fled the conscious shades of night;
The damsel, from a short repose,
Confounded at her plight, arose.

As when with slumb'rous weight opprest,
Some wealthy miser sinks to rest,
Where felons eye the glitt'ring prey,
And steal his hoard of joys away:
He, borne where golden INDUS streams,
Of pearl and quarry'd di'mond dreams,
Like MIDAS, turns the glebe to ore,
And stands all wrapt amidst his store;
But wakens, naked, and despoil'd
Of that for which his years had toil'd.

So far'd the NYMPH, her treasure flown,
And turn'd, like NIOBE, to stone;
Within, without, obscure and void,
She felt all ravag'd, all destroy'd.
And, O! thou curs'd insidious coast,
Are these the blessings thou canst boast?
These, VIRTUE! these the joys they find,
Who leave thy heav'n-topt hills behind!
Shade me, ye pines, ye caverns hide,
Ye mountains cover me! she cry'd.

Her trumpet SLANDER rais'd on high,
And told the tidings to the sky;
CONTEMPT discharg'd a living dart,
A side-long viper to her heart;
REPROACH breath'd poisons o'er her face,
And soil'd, and blasted ev'ry grace;
Officious SHAME, her handmaid new,
Still turn'd the mirror to her view;
While those in crimes the deepest dy'd,
Approach'd to whiten at her side;
And ev'ry lewd insulting dame
Upon her folly rose to fame.

What should she do; attempt once more
To gain the late-deserted shore?
So trusting, back the mourner flew,
As fast the train of fiends pursue.

Again the farther shore's attain'd,
Again the land of VIRTUE gain'd;
But ECHO gathers in the wind,
And shows her instant foes behind.
Amaz'd! with headlong speed she tends,
Where late she left an host of friends;
Alas! those shrinking friends decline,
Nor longer own that form divine;
With fear they mark the following cry,
And from the lonely trembler fly;
Or backward drive her on the coast
Where PEACE was wreck'd, and HONOUR lost.

From earth thus hoping aid in vain;
To HEAV'N, not daring to complain;
No truce, by hostile CLAMOUR giv'n,
And from the face of FRIENDSHIP driv'n;
The NYMPH sunk prostrate on the ground,
With all her weight of woes around.

Enthron'd within a circling sky,
Upon a mount, o'er mountains high,
All radiant sat, as in a shrine,
VIRTUE, first effluence divine;
Far, far above the scenes of woe,
That shut this cloud-wrapt world below:
Superior goddess! essence bright!
Beauty of uncreated light,
Whom should mortality survey,
As doom'd upon a certain day;
The breath of frailty must expire,
The world dissolve in living fire;
The gems of heav'n and solar flame,
Be quench'd by her eternal beam,
And nature, quick'ning in her eye,
To raise a new-born phoenix, die.

_Thus far extends my friendly pow'r,
Nor quits her in her latest hour;_

_Page 108._

_London: Published by Scatcherd & Letterman, Ave Maria Lane._]

Hence, unreveal'd to mortal view,
A veil around her form she threw,
Which three sad sisters of the shade,
PAIN, CARE, and MELANCHOLY, made.

Thro' this her all-inquiring eye,
Attentive from her station high,
Beheld, abandon'd to despair,
The ruins of her fav'rite fair;
And with a voice, whose awful sound
Appall'd the guilty world around,
Bid the tumultuous winds be still;
To numbers bow'd each list'ning hill;
Uncurl'd the surging of the main,
And smooth'd the thorny bed of pain;
The golden harp of heav'n she strung,
And thus the tuneful goddess sung:

"Lovely PENITENT, arise,
Come, and claim thy kindred skies;
Come, thy sister angels say,
Thou hast wept thy stains away.

"Let experience now decide,
'Twixt the good and evil, try'd,
In the smooth enchanted ground,
Say, unfold the treasures found.

"Structures, rais'd by morning dreams,
Sands that trip the flitting streams,
Down that anchors on the air,
Clouds that paint their changes there.

"Seas that smoothly dimpling lie,
While the storm impends on high,
Showing in an obvious glass,
Joys that in possession pass.

"Transient, fickle, light, and gay,
Flatt'ring, only to betray;
What, alas! can life contain?
Life, like all its circles, vain.

"Will the STORK, intending rest,
On the billow build her nest?
Will the BEE demand his store
From the bleak and bladeless shore!

"MAN alone, intent to stray,
Ever turns from WISDOM'S way;
Lays up wealth in foreign land,
Sows the sea, and plows the sand.

"Soon this elemental mass,
Soon th' encumb'ring world shall pass;
Form be wrapt in wasting fire,
TIME be spent, and LIFE expire.

"Then, ye boasted works of men!
Where is your asylum then?
Sons of PLEASURE, sons of CARE,
Tell me, mortals, tell me where?

"Gone, like traces on the deep,
Like a sceptre grasp'd in sleep;
Dews exhal'd from morning glades,
Melting snows, and gliding shades.

"Pass the world, and what's behind?
Virtue's gold, by fire refin'd;
From an universe deprav'd,
From the wreck of nature sav'd.

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

"Little TREMBLER, fear no more,
Thou hast plenteous crops in store;
Seeds, by genial sorrows sown,
More than all thy scorners own.

"What, tho' hostile earth despise,
Heaven beholds with gentler eyes;
Heav'n thy friendless steps shall guide,
Cheer thy hours, and guard thy side.

"When the fatal trump shall sound,
When th' immortals pour around,
Heav'n shall thy return attest,
Hail'd by myriads of the bless'd.

"Little native of the skies,
Lovely PENITENT, arise,
Calm thy bosom, clear thy brow,
VIRTUE is thy sister 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 shortest date,
Crowns of endless triumph wait;
On my cares a period bless'd,
On my toils, eternal rest.

"Come, with VIRTUE at thy side,
Come, be ev'ry bar defy'd,
Till we gain our native shore;
Sister, come, and turn no more."

FABLE XVI.

LOVE AND VANITY.

The breezy morning breath'd perfume,
The wak'ning flow'rs unveil'd their bloom;
Up with the sun, from short repose,
Gay HEALTH, and lusty LABOUR, rose;
The milk-maid carol'd at her pail,
And shepherds whistled o'er the dale;
When LOVE, who led a rural life,
Remote from bustle, state, and strife,
Forth from his thatch-roof'd cottage stray'd,
And stroll'd along the dewy glade.

A nymph, who lightly tripp'd it by,
To quick attention turn'd his eye;
He mark'd the gesture of the fair,
Her self-sufficient grace and air;
Her steps that mincing meant to please,
Her study'd negligence and ease;
And curious to inquire what meant
This thing of prettiness and paint,
Approaching spoke, and bow'd observant:
The lady, slightly--"Sir, your servant."

'Such beauty in so rude a place!
Fair one, you do the country grace;
At court, no doubt, the public care,
But LOVE has small acquaintance there.'

"Yes, sir," reply'd the flutt'ring dame,
"This form confesses whence it came;
But dear VARIETY, you know,
Can make us pride and pomp forego;
My name is VANITY: I sway
The utmost islands of the sea;
Within my court all honour centers,
I raise the meanest soul that enters,
Endow with latent gifts and graces,
And model fools for posts and places.

"As VANITY appoints at pleasure,
The world receives its weight and measure;
Hence all the grand concerns of life,
Joys, cares, plagues, passion, peace, and strife.

"Reflect how far my pow'r prevails,
When I step in where NATURE fails:
And ev'ry breach of sense repairing,
Am bounteous still, where heav'n is sparing.

"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 six to sixty, sick or sound,
I rule the female world around."--

'Hold there a moment,' CUPID cry'd,
'Nor boast dominion quite so wide;
Was there no province to invade,
But that by love and meekness sway'd;
All other empire I resign,
But be the sphere of beauty mine.

'For in the downy lawn of rest,
That opens on a woman's breast,
Attended by my peaceful train,
I choose to live, and choose to reign.

'Far-sighted FAITH I bring along,
And TRUTH, above an army strong,
And CHASTITY, of icy mould,
Within the burning tropics cold;
And LOWLINESS, to whose mild brow
The pow'r and pride of nations bow;
And MODESTY, with down-cast eye,
That lends the morn her virgin dye;
And INNOCENCE, array'd in light,
And HONOUR, as a tow'r upright;
With sweetly winning graces, more
Than poets ever dreamt of yore;
In unaffected conduct free,
All smiling sisters, three times three;
And rosy PEACE, the cherub bless'd,
That nightly sings us all to rest.

'Hence, from the bud of NATURE'S prime,
From the first step of infant time,
Woman, the world's appointed light,
Has skirted ev'ry shade with white;
Has stood for imitation high,
To ev'ry heart, and ev'ry eye;
From ancient deeds of fair renown,
Has brought her bright memorials down;
To time affix'd perpetual youth,
And form'd each tale of love and truth.

'Upon a new PROMETHEAN plan,
She moulds the essence of a man,
Tempers his mass, his genius fires,
And as a better soul inspires.

'The rude she softens, warms the cold,
Exalts the meek, and checks the bold;
Calls SLOTH from his supine repose,
Within the coward's bosom glows;
Of pride unplumes the lofty crest,
Bids bashful merit stand confess'd;
And like coarse metal from the mines,
Collects, irradiates, and refines;
The gentle science she imparts,
All manners smooths, informs all hearts;
From her sweet influence are felt,
Passions that please, and thoughts that melt.
To stormy rage she bids controul,
And sinks serenely on the soul;
Softens DUCALION'S flinty race,
And tunes the warring world to peace.

'Thus arm'd to all that's light and vain,
And freed from thy fantastic chain,
She fills the sphere, by heav'n assign'd,
And, rul'd by me, o'er-rules mankind.'

He spoke.--The nymph impatient stood,
And, laughing, thus her speech renew'd:

"And pray, sir, may I be so 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 unfashion'd stuff you tell us,
Of buckram dames, and tiptoe fellows!
Go, child, and when you're grown maturer,
You'll shoot your next opinion surer.

"O, such a pretty knack at painting,
And all for soft'ning, and for sainting!
Guess now, who can, a single feature,
Thro' the whole piece of female nature:
Then, mark! my looser hand may fit
The lines too coarse for love to hit.

"'Tis said, that woman prone to changing,
Thro' all the rounds of folly ranging,
On life's uncertain ocean riding,
No reason, rule, nor rudder guiding,
Is like the comet's wand'ring light,
Eccentric, ominous, and bright;
Tractless and shifting as the wind,
A sea whose fathom none can find;
A moon, still changing and revolving,
A riddle, past all human solving;
A bliss, a plague, a heav'n, a hell,
A----something, that no man can tell.

"Now learn a secret from a friend,
But keep your counsel and attend:

"Tho' in their tempers thought so distant,
Nor with their sex, nor selves consistent,
'Tis but the diff'rence of a name,
And ev'ry woman is the same.
For as the world, however vary'd,
And thro' unnumber'd changes carry'd,
Of elemental modes and forms,
Clouds, meteors, colours, calms, and storms;
Tho' in a thousand suits array'd,
Is of one subject matter made;
So, sir, a woman's constitution,
The world's enigma, finds solution.
And let her form be what you will,
I am the subject essence still.

"With the first spark of female sense,
The speck of being, I commence;
Within the womb make fresh advances,
And dictate future qualms and fancies;
Thence in the growing form expand,
With childhood travel hand in hand,
And give a taste of all their joys,
In gewgaws, rattles, pomp, and noise.

"And now, familiar and unaw'd,
I send the flutt'ring soul abroad;
Prais'd for her shape, her air, her mien,
The little goddess, and the queen,
Takes at her infant shrine oblation,
And drinks sweet draughts of adulation.

"Now, blooming, tall, erect, and fair,
To dress becomes her darling care;
The realms of beauty then I bound,
I swell the hoop's enchanted round;
Shrink in the waist's descending size,
Heav'd in the snowy bosom rise,
High on the floating lappet sail,
Or curl'd in tresses kiss the gale.
Then to her glass I lead the fair,
And shew the lovely idol there,
Where, struck as by divine emotion,
She bows with most sincere devotion;
And numb'ring ev'ry beauty o'er,
In secret bids the world adore.

"Then all for parking and parading,
Coqueting, dancing, masquerading;
For balls, plays, courts, and crowds, what passion!
And churches, sometimes, if the fashion:
For woman's sense of right and wrong
Is rul'd by the almighty throng;
Still turns to each meander tame,
And swims the straw of ev'ry stream.
Her soul intrinsic worth rejects,
Accomplish'd only in defects,
Such excellence is her ambition,
Folly her wisest acquisition;
And ev'n from pity and disdain,
She'll cull some reason 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 godship has not dreamt:
Those shining virtues which you muster,
Whence think you they derive their lustre?
From native honour and devotion!
O yes! a mighty likely notion!
Trust me, from titled dames to spinners,
'Tis I make saints, whoe'er make sinners;
'Tis I instruct them to withdraw,
And hold presumptuous man in awe;
For female worth as I inspire,
In just degrees, still mounts the higher,
And VIRTUE so extremely nice,
Demands long toil and mighty price;
Like SAMPSON'S pillars, fix'd elate,
I bear the sex's tott'ring state;
Sap these, and in a moment's space,
Down sinks the fabric to its base.

"Alike from titles, and from toys,
I spring, the fount of female joys;
In ev'ry widow, wife, and miss,
The sole artificer of bliss.
For them each tropic I explore;
I cleave the sand of ev'ry shore;
To them uniting INDIA'S sail,
SABAEA breathes her farthest gale;
For them the bullion I refine,
Dig sense and virtue from the mine;
And from the bowels of invention,
Spin out the various arts you mention.

"Nor bliss alone my pow'rs bestow,
They hold the sov'reign balm of woe;
Beyond the stoic's boasted art,
I soothe 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;
Thro' ev'ry age, in ev'ry nation,
Taste, talents, tempers, state, 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 thro' folly range,
And with the prude disdain to change.

"And now, you'd think, 'twixt you and I,
That things were ripe for a reply--
But soft--and while I'm in the mood,
Kindly permit me to conclude;
Their utmost mazes to unravel,
And touch the farthest step they travel:

"When ev'ry pleasure's run a-ground,
And folly tir'd thro' many a round;
The nymph, conceiving discontent hence,
May ripen to an hour's repentance,
And vapours shed in pious moisture,
Dismiss her to a church or cloister;
Then on I lead her, with devotion
Conspicuous in her dress and motion;
Inspire 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 set, in order bright,
A length of fun'ral pomp to sight;
The glitt'ring tapers, and attire,
The plumes that whiten o'er her bier;
And last, presenting to her eye
Angelic fineries on high,
To scenes of painted bliss I waft her,
And form the heav'n she hopes hereafter."

'In truth,' rejoin'd LOVE'S gentle god,
'You've gone a tedious length of road;
And, strange! in all the toilsome way
No house of kind refreshment lay;
No nymph, whose virtues might have tempted
To hold her from her sex 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 such permission,
Will hold herself the one selected,
And so my system stands protected."

'O deaf to VIRTUE, deaf to GLORY,
To truths divinely vouch'd in story!'
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;
HYPSIPYLE, who sav'd her sire;
And PORTIA'S love, approv'd by fire;
Alike PENELOPE was quoted,
Nor laurel'd DAPHNE pass'd unnoted,
Nor LAODAMIA'S fatal garter,
Nor fam'd LUCRETIA, honour's martyr,
ALCESTE'S voluntary steel,
And CATHERINE smiling on the wheel.

But who can hope to plant conviction,
Where cavil grows on contradiction!
Some she evades, or disavows,
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 so fair a field.

When happily arriv'd in view
A goddess, whom our grandames knew,
Of aspect grave, and sober gait,
Majestic, awful, and sedate,
As heav'n's autumnal eve serene,
Where not a cloud o'ercasts 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 strife to her decree.

And now by each the facts were stated,
In form and manner as related;
The case was short--They crav'd opinion,
Which held o'er females chief dominion?
When thus the goddess, 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 shar'd the fickle sex with you;
But from their presence long precluded,
Or held as one whose form intruded,
Full fifty annual suns can tell,
Prudence has bid the sex farewell."

In this dilemma, what to do,
Or who to think of, neither knew;
For both, still bias'd in opinion,
And arrogant of sole dominion,
Were forc'd to hold the case 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 cross'd the neighb'ring lake,
Nor seen the world beyond a wake;
With cambric coif, and kerchief clean,
Trip'd lightly by them o'er the green.

'Now, now!' cry'd LOVE'S triumphant child,
And at approaching conquest smil'd;
'If VANITY will once be guided,
Our diff'rence soon may be decided:
Behold you wench, a fit occasion,
To try your force of gay persuasion.--
Go you, while I retire aloof,
Go, put those boasted pow'rs to proof;
And if your prevalence of art
Transcends my yet unerring dart,
I give the fav'rite contest o'er,
And ne'er will boast my empire more.'

At once, so said and so consented,
And well our goddess seem'd contented,
Nor pausing, made a moment's stand,
But tript, and took the girl in hand.

Meanwhile the GODHEAD, unalarm'd,
As one to each occasion arm'd,
Forth from his quiver cull'd a dart,
That erst had wounded many a heart;
Then bending, drew it to the head,
The bowstring twang'd, the arrow fled,
And to her secret soul address'd,
Transfix'd the whiteness of her breast.

But here the DAME, whose 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 rush'd to sight,
A world of charms, till now unknown,
A world revealed to her alone;
Enraptur'd stands the love-sick maid,
Suspended o'er the darling shade;
Here only fixes to admire,
And centres every fond desire.

_FINIS._

Printed by C. Whittingham, Dean Street, Fetter Lane.

BOOKS PRINTED FOR SCATCHERD AND LETTERMAN, AVE-MARIA LANE, AND OTHER PROPRIETORS.

_In Two small Volumes, embellished with Twenty-four highly-finished Engravings, by_ ANGUS, _from Designs by_ BURNEY, _Price Thirteen Shillings in Boards_,

A DICTIONARY OF POLITE LITERATURE;

_Or, Fabulous History of the Heathen Gods, and Illustrious Heroes_.

"This is a work of much merit, ornamented with a number of well-executed and appropriate copper-plates. All the personages, whether divinities or heroes, that swell the pages of ancient poetry and mythology, are here described in a very ample and correct manner. To boys who are studying the Latin and Greek authors, these volumes will be a most acceptable present."

_Critical Review, July 1804._

_A few Copies are printed on a fine large yellow wove Paper, hot-pressed, with Proof Impressions of the Plates. Price One Guinea in Boards._

_In a neat Pocket Volume, Price 5s. bound_,

A NEW BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY;

Containing a brief Account of the Lives and Writings of the most eminent Persons and remarkable Characters in every Age and Nation. A New Edition, brought down to the present time. By STEPHEN JONES.

End of Project Gutenberg's Moores Fables for the Female Sex, by Edward Moore