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 named.
The judge discover'd in her face
Resentment 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 showing
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 misplaced;
The fellows had a wretched taste;
She needs must tell them to their face,
They were a senseless, stupid 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,
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 Oyes. 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.

TO

LORD HARLEY,

AFTERWARDS EARL OF OXFORD;

ON HIS MARRIAGE WITH LADY HENRIETTA CAVENDISH

HOLLES.

1713.

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 acquired and natural parts,
Whose harp 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 pursued,

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?

For if those ancient tales be true,
Phoebus was beautiful as you ;
Yet Daphne never slack'd her
расе,
For wit and learning spoil'd his face.
And since the same resemblance held
In gifts wherein you both excell'd,
I fancied every nymph would run
From you, as from Latona's son.

'Then where, (said I) shall Harley find A virgin of superior mind,

With wit and virtue to discover
And pay the merit of her lover?'

This character shall Ca'ndish claim,
Born to retrieve her sex's fame.
The chief among that glittering crowd,
Of titles, birth, and fortune proud,
(As fools are insolent and vain)
Madly aspired to wear her chain;
But Pallas, guardian of the maid,
Descending to her charge's aid,
Held out Medusa's snaky locks,
Which stupified them all to stocks.
The nymph, with indignation, view'd
The dull, the noisy, and the lewd;
For Pallas with celestial light
Had purified her mortal sight,
Show'd her the Virtues all combined
Fresh blooming in young Harley's mind.
Terrestrial nymphs, by formal arts,
Display their various nets for hearts:
Their looks are all by method set,
When to be prude, and when coquette;
Yet wanting skill and power to choose,
Their only pride is to refuse.

But when a goddess would bestow
Her love on some bright youth below,
Round all the earth she casts her eyes,
And then, descending from the skies,
Makes choice of him she fancies best,
And bids the ravish'd youth be bless'd.
Thus the bright empress of the morn
Chose for her spouse a mortal born;
The goddess made advances first,
Else what aspiring hero durst?
Though, like a virgin of fifteen,
She blushes when by mortals seen;
Still blushes and with speed retires,
When Sol pursues her with his fires.

Diana thus, heaven's chastest queen,
Struck with Endymion's graceful mien,
Down from her silver chariot came,
And to the shepherd own'd her flame.
Thus Ca'ndish, as Aurora bright,
And chaster than the queen of night,
Descended from her sphere to find
A mortal of superior kind.

THE FAGGOT.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1713, WHEN THE QUEEN'S MINISTERS WERE QUARRELLING AMONG THEMSELVES.

OBSERVE the dying father speak;

Try, lads! can you this bundle break?'

Then bids the youngest of the six

Take up a well-bound heap of sticks: