Call back the Cupids to your eyes, I fee the godlings with furprize Not knowing home in fuch a plight, Fly to and fro, afraid to light.-
Far from my theme, from method far, Convey'd in Venus' flying car,
I go compell'd by feather'd fteeds, That fcorn the rein when Delia leads. No dawb of elegiac ftrain These holy walls shall ever stain; As fpiders Irish wainscot flee, Falshood with them shall disagree : This floor let not the vulgar tread, Who worship only what they dread; Nor bigots who but one way
Through blinkers of authority; Nor they who its four faints defame By making virtue but a name ; Nor abstract wit, (painful regale To hunt the pig with flippery tail!) Artists who richly chase their thought, Gaudy without but hollow wrought, And beat too thin, and tool'd too much To bear the proof and standard touch; Nor fops to guard this filvan ark With necklace bells in treble bark ; Nor Cynics growl and fiercely paw, The maftiffs of the moral law.
Come Nymph with rural honours dreft, Virtue's exterior form confeft,
With charms untarnish'd, innocence Display, and Eden fhall commence : When thus you come in fober fit, And wisdom is prefer'd to wit;
And looks diviner graces tell,
Which don't with giggling muscles dwell; And beauty like the ray-clipt fun, With bolder eye we look upon; Learning fhall with obfequious mien Tell all the wonders she has seen; Reason her logic armour quit, And proof to mild perfuafion fit; Religion with free thought difpenfe, And ceafe crufading against fenfe; Philofophy and she embrace, And their firft league again take place; And morals pure, in duty bound, Nymph-like the fifter chiefs furround; Nature fhall fmile, and round this cell The turf to your light preffure fwell, And knowing beauty by her shoe, Well air its carpet from the dew. The Oak, while you his umbrage deck Lets fall his acorns in your neck : Zephyr his civil kiffes gives,
And plays with curls, inftead of leaves:
Birds, feeing you, believe it spring, And during their vacation fing;
And flow'rs lean forward from their feats
To traffic in exchange of sweets;
And angels bearing wreaths defcend, Preferr❜d as vergers to attend This fane, whose deity intreats The Fair to grace its upper feats.
O kindly view our letter'd ftrife, And guard us through polemic life; From poifon vehicled in praise,
For fatire's shots but flightly graze; We claim your zeal, and find within, Philofophy and you are kin,
What Virtue is we judge by you, For actions right are beauteous too: By tracing the fole female mind, We beft what is true Nature find ; Your vapours bred from fumes declare, How ftreams create tempeftuous air, Till gushing tears and hafty rain Make heaven and you ferene again: Our travels through the starry skies Were first fuggefted by your eyes; We by the interpofing fan, Learn how eclipfes first began; The vast ellipfe from Scarbro's home, Describes how blazing comets roam;
The glowing colours of the cheek Their origin from Phœbus speak; Our watch how Luna strays above Feels like the care of jealous love; And all things we in science know From your known love for riddles flow. Father! forgive, thus far I ftray, Drawn by attraction from my way. Mark next with awe, the foundress well Who on these banks delights to dwell; You on the terrafs fee her plain, Move like Diana with her train. If you then fairly speak your mind, In wedlock fince with Ifis join'd, You'll own, you never yet did fee, At least in such a high degree, Greatness delighted to undrefs; Science a scepter'd hand carefs; A queen the friends of freedom prize; A woman wife men canonize.
The BEE, the ANT, and the SPARROW:
Addrefs'd to PHEBE and KITTY C. at Boarding School.
Y dears, 'tis faid in days of old,
My could fcold.
But now it seems the human race Alone engross the speaker's place. Yet lately, if report be true,
(And much the tale relates to you) There met a Sparrow, Ant, and Bee, Which reafon'd and convers'd as we.
Who reads my page will doubtless grant That Phe's the wife induftrious Ant.
And all with half an eye may
That Kitty is the bufy Bee.
Here then are two -but where's the third? Go fearch your school, you'll find the Bird. Your school! I ask your pardon fair, I'm fure you'll find no Sparrow there. Now to my tale-One fummer's morn A Bee rang'd o'er the verdant lawn;
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