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843

For, though by one perverse event
Pallas had cross'd her first intent;
Though her design was not obtain'd;
Yet had she much experience gain’d,
And, by the project vainly try'l,
Could better now the cause decide,
She gave due notice, that both parties,
Coram Regina, prox' die Martis,
Should at their peril, without fail,
Come and appear, and save their bail.
All met ; and, silence thrice proclaim'd,
One lawyer to each side was nam’d.
The judge discover'd in her face
Resentments for her late disgrace ;
And, full of anger, shame, and grief,
Directed them to mind their brief;
Nor spend their time to shew their reading;
She 'd have a summary proceeding.
She gather'd under every head
The sum of what each lawyer said,
Gave her own reasons last, and then
Decreed the cause against the men.

But, in a weighty case like this,
To shew she did not judge amiss,
Which evil tongues might else report,
She made a speech in

open court;
Wherein the grievously complains,
“ How she was cheated by the swains;”
On whose petition (humbly shewing,
That women were not worth the wooing,
Vol. I.

K

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870

And that, unless the sex would mend,
The race of lovers soon must end) –
“ She was at Lord knows what expence
To form a nymph of wit and sense,
“ A model for her sex design’d,
" Who never could one lover find.
“ She saw her favour was misplac'd ;
" The fellows had a wretched taste;
“ She needs must tell them to their face,
“ They were a supid, senseless race ;
“ And, were she to begin again,
“ She 'd study to reform the men ;
" Or add some grains of folly more
" To women, than they had before,

put them on an equal foot;
“ And this, or nothing else, would do 't.
** This might their mutual fancy strike ;
“ Since every being loves its like.

“ But now, repenting what was done,
• She left all business to her son ;
« She puts the world in his poflession,
“ And let him use it at discretion,"

The cryer was order'd to dismiss
The court, so made his last yes!
'The goddess would no longer wait ;
But, riling from her chair of state,
Left all below at fix and seven,
Harness'd her doves, and few to heaven.

875

“ To

880

885

то

TO L O V E *.

IN

N all I wish, how happy should I be,

Thou grand Deluder, were it not for thee!
So weak thou art, that fools thy power despise,
And

yet so strong, thou triumph'st o’er the wise.
Thy traps are laid with such peculiar art,
They catch the cautious; let the rash depart.
Mott nets are filld by want of thought and care:
But too much thinking brings us to thy snare;
Where, held by thce, in slavery we stay,
And throw the pleasing part of life away.
But, what does most my indignation move,
Discretion! thou wert ne'er a friend to love :
Thy chief delight is to defeat those arts,
Bv which he kindles inutual flames in hearts;
While the blind loitering God is at his play,
Thou steal's his golden-pointed darts away;
Those darts which never fail; and in their stead
Convey'st malignant arrows tipt with Icad :
The heedless God, suspecting no deceits,
Shoots on, and thinks he has done wondrous feats;
But the poor nymph, who feels her vitais burn,
And from her shepherd can find no returi,
Laments, and rages at the power divine,
When, curst Discretion ! all the fault was thine ;

Found in Miss Vanhomrigh’s desk, after hier death, in the hand-writing of Dr. Swift.

K 2

Cupid

Cupid and Hymen thou hast set at odds,
And bred such feuds between those kindred gods,
That Venus cannot reconcile her sons;
When one appears, away the other runs.
The former scales, wherein he us’d to poise
Love against love, and equal joys with joys,
Are now fill’d up with avarice and pride,
Where titles, power, and riches, still subside.
Then, gentle Venus, to thy father run,
And tell him, how thy children are undone ;
Prepare his bolts to give one fatal blow,
And strike Discretion to the shades below.

ODE TO SPRING.

BY A LADY*.
HAIL, blushing goddess, beauteous Spring,

Who, in thy jocund train, dost bring
Loves and Graces, smiling Hours,
Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers;
Come, with tints of roseate hue,
Nature's faded charis renew.

Yet why should I thy presence hail?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with sweets ; no more the rosc
With such transcendent beauty blows,
As when Cadenus blest the scene,
And Mar’d with me thosc joys serene ;
When, unperceiv'd, the lambent fire
Of friendship kindled new desire :
* This and the next ode have been ascribed to Vanessa.

Still

Still listening to his tuneful tongue,
* The truths, which angels might have sung,
Divine, imprest their gentle sway,
And sweetly stole my
My guide, instructor, lover, friend,
(Dear names !) in one idea blend;
Oh! still conjoin'd, your incense rise,
And waft sweet odours to the skies !

fout away.

O DE

Τ Ο

WISDOM.

BY THE SAME.

OH, Pallas! I invoke thy aid !

Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid,

By tender love deprest; "Tis just that thou should'st heal the smart Inflicted' by thy subtle art,

And calm my troubled breast.
No random-shot from Cupid's bow,
But by thy guidance, foft and slow,

It sunk within my heart ;
Thus, Love being arm’d with Wisdom's force,
In vain I try to stop its course,

In vain repel the dart.
O goddess! break the fatal league,
Let Love, with Folly and Intrigue,

More fit allociates find !
And thou alone within my breast,
O! deign to soothe my griefs to rest,
And heal my tortur’d mind.

ARE.

K 3

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