So when my Chloe I pursue,
No heaven besides I have in view.

Thus, on comparison, you see,
In ev'ry instance they agree,
So like, fo very much the same,
That one may go by t'other's name.
Let me proclaim it then aloud,
That ev'ry woman is a cloud.

A N S W E R. PResumptuous bard! how could you

dare A woman with a cloud compare ? Strange pride and insolence you show, Inferior mortals there below. And is our thunder in your ears So frequent or so loud as theirs ? Alas ! our thunder soon goes out; And only makes you more devout. Then is not female clatter worse, That drives you not to pray, but curfe ?

We hardly thunder thrice a year; The bolt discharg'd, the sky grows clear:

But

But ev'ry sublunary dowdy,
The more she scolds, the more she's cloudy.

Some critick may object, perhaps, That clouds are blam'd for giving claps; · But what, alas ! are claps æthereal,

Compar'd for mischief to venereal ?
Can clouds give bubo’s, ulcers, blotches,
Or from your noses dig out notches ?
We leave the body sweet and sound;
We kill, 'tis true, but never wound.

You know a cloudy sky bespeaks
Fair weather when the morning breaks;
But wonen in a cloudy plight
Foretell a storm to last till

night. A cloud in proper seasons pours His blessings down in fruitful show'rs; But woman was by fate design’d To pour down curses on mankind.

When * Sirius o'er the welkin rages, Our kindly help his fire afswages; But woman is a curft inflamer, No parish ducking-stool can tame her:

The dog-star,

To

To kindle strife dame nature taught her;
Like fire-works she can burn in water.

For fickleness how durft

you
blame

us,
Who for our constancy are famous ?
You'll see a cloud in gentle weather
Keep the same face an hour together ;
While women, if it could be reckon'd,
Change ev'ry feature ev'ry second.

Observe our figure in a morning, Of foul or fair we give you warning; But can you guess from woman's air One minute, whether foul or fair?

Go read in ancient books enroll'd
What honours we poffefs'd of old,

To disappoint Ixion's rape
JOVE drest a cloud in Juno's shape;
Which when he had enjoy’d, he swore,
No goddess could have pleas'd him more;
No diff'rence could he find between
His cloud and Jove's imperial queen:
His cloud produc'd a race of centaurs
Fam'd for a thousand bold adventures ;
From us descended ab origine,
By learned authors call’d nubigene,

But

But say, what earthly nymph do you know, So beautiful to pass for Juno ?

Before Æneas durft aspire To court her majesty of Tyre, His mother beg'd of us to dress him, That Dido might the more caress him : A coat we gave him, dy'd in grain, A flaxen wig and clouded cane (The wig was powder'd round with fleet, Which fell in clouds beneath his feet), With which he made a tearing show ; And Dido quickly smoak’d the beau.

Among your females make enquiries, What nymph on earth so fair as Iris ? With heav'nly beauty fo endow'd ? And yet her father is a cloud. We dress’d her in a gold brocade, Befitting Juno’s fav’rite maid. 'Tis known, that Socrates the wise Ador'd us clouds as deities; To us he made his daily prayers, As Aristophanes declares; From Jupiter took all dominion, And dy'd defending his opinion.

Ву

By his authority 'tis plain
You worship other gods in vain,
And from your own experience know
We govern all things there below.
You follow where we please to guide,
O’er all your passions we preside,
Can raise them up,or fink them down,
As we think fit to fmile or frown:
And, juft as we dispose your brain,
Are witty, dull, rejoice, complain.

Compare us then to female race ! We, to whom all the gods give place : Who better challenge your

allegiance, Because we dwell in higher regions : You find the gods in Homer dwell In feas and streams or low as hell: Ev'n Fove, and Mercury his pimp, No higher climb than mount Olymp (Who makes you think the clouds he

pierces ?

He pierce the clouds ! he kiss their a-es).
While we, o'er Teneriffa plac'd,
Are loftier by a mile at least:
And when Apollo ftruts on Pindus,
We fee him from our kitchen windows;