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For, though by one perverse event
Pallas had crofs'd her first intent;
Though her design was not obtain’d;
Yet had the much experience gain'd,
And, by the project vainly try'd,
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 fave their bail.
All met; and, filence thrice proclaim'd,
One lawyer to each fide was nam'd.
The judge difcover'd in her face
Refentments for her late difgrace;
And, full of anger, fhame, and grief,
Directed them to mind their brief;
Nor spend their time to fhew their reading;
She 'd have a fummary proceeding.
She gather'd under every head
The fum of what each lawyer faid,
Gave her own reasons laft, and then
Decreed the cause against the men.
But, in a weighty cafe like this,
To fhew fhe did not judge amifs,
Which evil tongues might elfe report,
She made a fpeech in open court;
Wherein the grievously complains,
"How she was cheated by the fwains;"
On whofe petition (humbly fhewing,
That women were not worth the wooing,
And that, unless the fex would mend,
The race of lovers foon muft end) —
"She was at Lord knows what expence
"To form a nymph of wit and sense,
"A model for her fex defign'd,
"Who never could one lover find.
"She faw her favour was mifplac'd;
"The fellows had a wretched tafte;
"She needs must tell them to their face,
"They were a ftupid, fenfelefs race;
"And, were the to begin again,
"She 'd ftudy to reform the men ;
"Or add fome 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 fon ; "She puts the world in his poffeffion, "And let him ufe it at difcretion."
The cryer was order'd to difmifs The court, fo made his last O yes! The goddefs would no longer wait; But, rifing from her chair of ftate,
Left all below at fix and feven,
Harnefs'd her doves, and flew to heaven.
IN all I wifh, how happy should I be,
Thou grand Deluder, were it not for thee!
So weak thou art, that fools thy power defpife,
And yet so strong, thou triumph'ft o'er the wife.
Thy traps are laid with fuch peculiar art,
They catch the cautious; let the rafh depart.
Mott nets are fill'd by want of thought and care:
But too much thinking brings us to thy fnare;
Where, held by thee, in flavery we stay,
And throw the pleafing part of life away.
But, what does moft my indignation move,
Difcretion! thou wert ne'er a friend to love:
Thy chief delight is to defeat those arts,
By which he kindles mutual flames in hearts;
While the blind loitering God is at his play,
Thou fteal'ft his golden-pointed darts away;
Thofe darts which never fail; and in their ftead
Convey'ft malignant arrows tipt with lead :
The heedlefs God, fufpecting no deccits,
Shoots on, and thinks he has done wondrous feats;
But the poor nymph, who feels her vitals burn,
And from her fhepherd can find no return,
Laments, and rages at the power divine,
When, curft Discretion! all the fault was thine;
* Found in Mifs Vanhomrigh's desk, after her death, in the hand-writing of Dr. Swift.
Cupid and Hymen thou haft fet at odds,
And bred fuch feuds between those kindred gods,
That Venus cannot reconcile her fons ;
When one appears, away the other runs.
The former fcales, wherein he us'd to poife
Love against love, and equal joys with joys,
Are now fill'd up with avarice and pride,
Where titles, power, and riches, ftill fubfide.
Then, gentle Venus, to thy father run,
And tell him, how thy children are undone;
Prepare his bolts to give one fatal blow,
And ftrike Difcretion to the fhades below.
BY A LADY *.
AIL, blufhing goddefs, beauteous Spring,
Who, in thy jocund train, doft bring
Loves and Graces, fmiling Hours,
Balmy breezes, fragrant flowers;
Come, with tints of rofeate hue,
Nature's faded charms renew.
Yet why fhould I thy prefence hail?
To me no more the breathing gale
Comes fraught with fweets; no more the rofe
With fuch tranfcendent beauty blows,
As when Cadenus bleft the scene,
And fhar'd with me thofe joys ferene;
When, unperceiv'd, the lambent fire
Of friendship kindled new defire :
*This and the next ode have been afcribed to Vanessa.
Still liftening to his tuneful tongue,
The truths, which angels might have fung,
Divine, impreft their gentle fway,
And fweetly stole my foul away.
My guide, inftructor, lover, friend,
(Dear names!) in one idea blend;
Oh! ftill conjoin'd, your incense rise,
And waft fweet odours to the skies!
H, Pallas! I invoke thy aid!
Vouchsafe to hear a wretched maid,
By tender love depreft;
'Tis juft that thou fhould'ft heal the fmart
Inflicted by thy fubtle art,
And calm my troubled breast.
No random-fhot from Cupid's bow,
But by thy guidance, foft and flow,
It funk within my heart;
Thus, Love being arm'd with Wisdom's force,
In vain I try to ftop its course,
. In vain repel the dart.
O goddefs! break the fatal league,
Let Love, with Folly and Intrigue,.
More fit allociates find!
And thou alone within my breaft,
Q! deign to foothe my griefs to reft,
And heal my tortur'd mind.