When Miss delights in her spinnet,
A fidler may a fortune get:
A blockhead with melodious voice
In boarding-schools can have his choice;
And oft the dancing-master's art
Climbs from the toe to touch the heart.
In learning let a nymph delight,
The pedant gets a mistress by't.
Cadenus, to his grief and shame,
Could scarce oppose Vanessa's flame,
Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet,
In all their equipages meet;
Where pleasures mix'd with pains appear,
Sorrow with joy, and hope with fear;
Wherein his dignity and age
Forbid Cadenus to engage ;
But friendship in its greatest height,
A constant rational delight,
On virue's basis fix'd to last,
When love's allurements long are past,
Which gently warms, but cannot burn,
He gladly offers in return:
His want of passion will redeem
With gratitude, respect, esteem;
With that devotion we bestow,
When goddesses appear below.
While thus Cadenus entertains
Vanessa in exalted strains,
Const'ring the passion she had shown
Much to her praise, more to his own:
Nature in him had merit plac'd,
In her a most judicious taste:
Love, hitherto a transient guest,
Ne'er held possession in his breast;
So long attending at the gate,
Disdain'd to enter in so late.
Love, why do we one passion call,
When 'tis a compound of them all?
He has a forfeiture incurr'd;
She vows to take him at his word,
And hopes he will not think it strange
If both should now their stations change.
The nymph will have her turn to be
The tutor, and the pupil he;
Though she already can discern,
Her scholar is not apt to learn,
Or wants capacity to reach
The science she designs to teach;
Wherein his genius was below
The skill of every common bean,
Who, though he cannot spell, is wise
Enough to read a lady's eyes,
And will each accidental glance
Interpret for a kind advance.
But what success Vanessa met
Is to the world a secret yet:
Whether the nymph, to please her swain,
Talks in a high romantic strain,
Or whether he at last descends
To like with less seraphic ends;
Or, to compound the business, whether
They temper love and books together;
Must never to mankind be told,
Nor shall the conscious Muse unfold.
Meantime, the mournful Queen of love
Led but a weary life above:
She ventures now to leave the skies,
Grown by Vanessa's conduct wise;
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 tried,
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 show 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 show she did not judge amiss,
Which evil tongues might else report,
She made a speech in open court,
Wherein she grievously complains
'How she was cheated by the swains;'
On whose petition, (humbly shewing
That women were not worth the wooing,
And that, unless the sex would mend,
The race of lovers soon must end)
'She was at lord-knows-what expense,
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 senseless, stupid race;
And, where she to begin again,
She'd study to reform the men,
Or add some grains of folly more
To women than they had before,
To 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 possession,
And let him use it at discretion.'
The crier was order'd to dismiss The court, so made his last ‘O yes!' The goddess would no longer wait, But, rising from her chair of state, Left all below at six and seven, Harness'd her doves, and flew to heaven.
AFTERWARDS EARL OF OXFORD;
ON HIS MARRIAGE WITH LADY HENRIETTA
CAVENDISH HOLLES.
AMONG the numbers who employ
Their tongues and pens to give you joy,
Dear Harley! generous youth! admit
What friendship dictates more than wit,
Forgive me when I fondly thought.
(By frequent observation taught)
A spirit so inform'd as yours
Could never prosper in amours.
The god of Wit, and Light, and Arts,
With all acquir'd and natural parts,
Whose harps could savage beasts enchant,
Was an unfortunate gallant.
Had Bacchus after Daphne reel'd,
The nymph had soon been brought to yield;
Or had embroider'd Mars pursu'd,
The nymph would ne'er have been a prude.
Ten thousand footsteps, full in view,
Mark out the way where Daphne flew :
For such is all the sex's flight:
They fly from learning, wit, and light;
They fly, and none can overtake
But some gay coxcomb or a rake.
How then, dear Harley! could I guess
That you should meet in love success?
|