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Vaneffa, fill'd with ju dildain, Would still her dignity maintain, Inftructed from her early years To fcorn the art of female tears.
Had he employed his time fo long To teach her what was right and wrong; Yet could fuch notions entertain That all his lectures were in vain? She own'd the wandering of her thoughts; But he must answer for her faults. She well remember'd, to her cost, That all his leffons were not loft. Two maxims she could still produce, And fad experience taught their use; That virtue, pleas'd by being shown, Knows nothing which it dares not own; Can make us without fear disclofe Our inmoft fecrets to our foes: That common forms were not design'd Directors to a noble mind.
Now, faid the nymph, to let you see My actions with your rules agree; That I can vulgar forms defpife, And have no fecrets to disguise: I knew, by what you faid and writ, How dangerous things were men You caution'd me against their charms, wit; But never gave me equal arms;
Your leffons found the weakest part, Aim'd at the head, but reach'd the heart. Cadenus felt within him rife Shame, disappointment, guilt, surprise. He knew not how to reconcile Such language with her usual style: And yet her words were so expreft, He could not hope she spoke in jeft. His thoughts had wholly been confin'd To form and cultivate her mind. He hardly knew, till he was told, Whether the nymph were young or old; Had met her in a public place. Without diftinguishing her face: Much leis could his declining age Vaneffa's earliest thoughts engage; And, if her youth indifference met, His perfon must contempt beget: Or, grant her paffion be fincere, How fhall his innocence be clear? Appearances were all fo ftrong, The world muft think him in the wrong; Would fay, he made a treacherous use Of wit, to flatter and feduce:
The town would fwear, he had betray'd
Hardly at length he filence broke,
But, not to dwell on things minute, Vaneffa finish'd the difpute, Brought weighty arguments to prove That reafon was her guide in love. She thought he had himself defcrib'd, His doctrines when the first imbib'd: What he had planted now was grown; His virtues the might call her own; As he approves, as he dislikes, Love or contempt her fancy ftrikes. Self-love, in nature rooted fast, Attends us firft, and leaves us laft: Why the likes him, admire not at her; She loves herfelf, and that's the matter. How was her tutor wont to praise The geniuses of ancient days!
(Those authors he fo oft' had nam'd, For learning, wit, and wisdom, fam'd) Was ftruck with love, esteem, and awe, For persons whom he never faw. Suppofe Cadenus flourish'd then, He muft adore fuch godlike men. If one fhort volume could comprise All that was witty, learn'd, and wife, How would it be efteem'd and read, Although the writer long were dead! If fuch an author were alive, How all would for his friendship strive, And come in crowds to fee his face! And this the takes to be her cafe. Cadenus answers every end, The book, the author, and the friend; The utmoft her defires will reach, Is but to learn what he can teach : His converse is a system fit Alone to fill up all her wit; While every paffion of her mind In him is center'd and confin'd.
Love can with fpeech inspire a mute, And taught Vanessa to dispute. This topic, never touch'd before, Difplay'd her eloquence the more: Her knowledge, with fuch pains acquir'd, By this new paffion grew infpir'd; Through this the made all objects pass, Which gave a tincture o'er the mafs; As rivers though they bend and twine, Still to their fea their course incline; Or, as philofophers, who find Some favourite fyftem to their mind, In every point to make it fit, Will force all nature to fubmit.
Cadenus, who could ne'er fufpect
Each girl, when pleas'd with what is taught,
'Tis an old maxim in the fchools, That flattery's the food of fools; Yet now and then your men of wit Will condefcend to take a bit.
So, when Cadenus could not hide, He chose to juftify, his pride; Conftruing the paffion fhe had shown, Much to her praife, more to his own. Nature in him had merit plac'd, In her a moft judicious taste. Love, hitherto a tranfient gueft, Ne'er held poffeffion of his breaft; So long attending at the gate, Difdain'd to enter in fo late.
Love why do we one paffion call,
But friendship, in its greatest height,
While thus Cadenus entertains
To her who durft not read romances?
But what fuccefs Vaneffa met,
Maft never to mankind be told,
Meantime the mournful Queen of Love
Led but a weary life above.
She ventures now to leave the skies, Grown by Vaneffa's conduct wife: Fer, though by one perverse event Pallas had crofs'd her firft intent; Though her defign was not obtain'd; Yet had the much experience gain'd, And, by the project vainly try'd, Could better now the caufe 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, filence thrice proclaim'd, One lawyer to each fide was nam'd. The judge difcover'd in her face Resentments for her late difgrace; And, full of anger, fhame, and grief, Directed them to mind their brief, Nor spend their time to show their reading; She'd have a fummary proceeding. She gather'd under every head The fum of what each lawyer faid, Gave her own reafons laft, and then Decreed the cause against the men. But, in a weighty cafe like this, To how the did not judge amifs, Which evil tongues might elfe report, She made a speech in open court; Wherein the grievously complains, "How he was cheated by the fwains;" On whofe petition (humbly showing, That women were not worth the wooing, And that, unless the sex would mend,
The race of lovers foon must 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 misplac'd; "The fellows had a wretched tafte; "She needs must tell them to their face,
They were a ftupid, fenfeless race;
And, were the to begin again,
"She'd ftudy to reform the men;
" To women,
Or add fome grains of folly more
To put them on an equal foot;
"This might their mutual fancy ftrike,
Since every being loves its like.
But now, repenting what was done,
She left all bufinefs 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 lat O yes! The goddess would no longer wait; But rifing from her chair of state, Left all below at fix and seven, Harness'd her doves, and flew to heaven.
In all I with, how happy fhould 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. Moft 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 pleasing part of life away. But, what does most 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; Those darts which never fail; and in their stead Convey'ft malignant arrows tipt with lead: The heedlefs God, fufpecting no deceits, 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 Difcretion! all the fault was thine: 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 poile Love against love, and equal joys with joys, Are now fill'd up with avarice and pride, Where titles, power, and riches, still 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.
ODE TO SPRING.
HAIL, bluffing goddefs, beauteous Spring,
Yet why fhould I thy presence hail ? To me no more the breathing gale Comes fraught with fweets; no more the rofe With fuch tranfcendant beauty blows, As when Cadenus bleft the fcene, And fhar'd with me thofe joys ferene; When, unperceiv'd, the lambent fire Of friendship kindled new defire : Still liftening to his tuneful tongue, The truths which angels might have fung, Divine, impreft their gentle fway, And fweetly ftole my foul away. My guide, inftructor, lover, friend, (Dear names!) in one idea blend;
*Found in Mifs Vanhomrigh's defe, after her death, in the band-writing of Swift.
t This and the next ode have been ofcribed to
And thou alone within my breast,
Cur the name of the man who his miftrefs dé-
THE DEAN'S ANSWER.
THE nymph who wrote this in an amorous fit,
#Jo-feph. † Nathan.
Her fine panegyrics are quite out of season,
And, fhould he write pamphlets, no great man would read 'em ;
And should want or defert stand in need of his aid,
This racer would prove but a dull-founder'd jade
HORACE, BOOK. II. ODE I.
Addressed to Richard Steel, Efq. 1714.
"En qui promittit cives, urbem fibi curæ, "Imperium fore, & Italiam, & delubra deorum." HOR. I. Sat. vi. 34.
DICK, thou'rt refolv'd, as I am told,
The bucket-play 'twixt Whig and Tories,
By which wife conduct they grow friends
At laft-and fo the ftory ends *."
When firft I knew thee, Dick, thou wert
Their lucklefs choice of hufbands-others,
But now the Senate (if things bit,
Methinks I hear thee loud as trumpet, As bag-pipe fhrill, or oyster-ftrumpet; Methinks I fee thee, fpruce and fine, With coat embroider'd richly fhine, And dazzle all the idol faces As through the ball thy worship paces ; (Though this I fpeak but at a venture, Suppoling thou haft tick with Hunter) Methinks I fee a black-guard rout Attend thy coach and hear them fhout In approbation of thy tongue, Which (in their style) is purely bung, Now! now you carry all before you! Nor dares one Jacobite or Tory Pretend to answer one fyllable, Except the matchlefs hero Abel 4. What though her highness and her spouse In Antwerp & keep a frugal houfe, Yet, not forgetful of a friend, They'll foen enable thee to spend, If to Macartney thou will toaft, And to his pious patron's gloft. Now manfully thou'lt run a tilt "On paper, for all the blood they've fpilt, "For maffacres, and racks, and flames, "For lands enrich'd by crimson ftreams, "For inquifitions taught by Spain, "Of which the Chriflian world complain." Dick, we agree-all's true thou'ft faid, As that my mufe is yet a maid. But, if I may with freedom talk, All this is foreign to thy walk: Thy genius has perhaps a knack At trudging in a beaten track, Eat is for late affairs as fit As mine for politics and wit.
This is faid to be a plot of a comedy with which Mr. St de bas long threatened the town.
↑ Mr. Steele bad a laboratory at Poplar. At Roper.
Where the Duke of Marlborough then refided. General Macartney
Ir thou canst lay aside a spendthrift's air,
Quit thy patrols with Toby's Christmas-box,
'Tis true, that Bloomsbury Square's a noble place:
With verdant fcenes, that, from St. George's field, More durable and fafe enjoyments yield.
Here I, ev'n 1, that ne'er till now could find Fafe to my troubled and fufpicious mind, But ever was with jealoufies poffefs'd, Am in a state of indolence and rest; Fearful no more of Frenchmen in disguise, Nor looking upon strangers as on spies, But quite diverted of my former spleen, Am unprovok'd without and calm within: And here I'll wait thy coming, till the fun Shall its diurnal courfe completely run. Think not that thou of fturdy butt fhalt fail; My landlord's cellar is ftock'd with beer and ale,] With every fort of malt that is in ufe, And every county's generous produce. The ready (for here Chriftian faith is fick, Which makes us feldom trefpafs upon tick) Inftantly brings the choiceft liquors out, Whether we aik for home-brew'd or for ftout, For mead or cyder, or, with dainties fed, Ring for a flask or two of white or red,
*This and the preceding poem are printed from com