She now indeed fins on the fafer fide,
For hearts too loose are never to be ty'd;
But no extremes are either good or wife,
And in the midst alone true virtue lies.
When marriage vows unite an equal pair,
'Tis a mere contract, made by human care,
By which they both are for convenience ty'd,
The bridegroom yet more strictly than the bride:
For circumstances alter ev'ry ill,
And woman meets with most temptation still;
She a forfaken bed must often bear,
While he can never fail to find here there,
And therefore lefs excus'd to range elsewhere.
Yet this fhe ought to suffer and fubmit:
But when no longer for each other fit,
If ufage base shall just resentment move,
Or, what is worse, affronts of wand'ring love;
No obligation after that remains.
'Tis mean, not juft, to wear a rival's chains.
Yet decency requires the wonted cares
Of int❜rest, children, and remote affairs;
But in her love, that dear concern of life,
She all the while may be another's wife :
Heav'n that beholds her wrong'd and widow'd bed,
Permits a lover in her husband's stead.
I flung me at his feet, his robes would kifs,
And cry'd, Ev'n our base world is just in this;
Amidst our cenfures, love we gently blame;
And love fometimes preferves a female fame.
What tie less strong can woman's will restrain ?
When honour, checks, and confcience plead in vain;
When parents threats, and friends perfuafions fail,
When int'reft and ambition scarce prevail,
To bound that sex when nothing else can move;
They'll live referv'd to please the man they love!
The spirit then reply'd to all I faid,
She may
be kind, but not till thou art dead;
Bewail thy memory, bemoan thy fate:
Then she will love, when 'tis, alas! too late:
· Of all thy pains she will no pity have,
Till fad despair has fent thee to the grave.
Amaz'd, I wak'd in hafte,
All trembling at my doom;
Dreams oft repeat adventures past,
And tell our ills to come.
HEN loofe epiftles violate chafte eyes,
She half confents, who filently denies :
How dares a stranger, with defigns fo vain,
Marriage and hofpitable rights profane?
Was it for this your fate did shelter find
From fwelling feas, and ev'ry faithlefs wind?
(For tho' a diftant country brought you forth,
Your ufage here was equal to your worth.)
Does this deserve to be rewarded fo?
Did you come here a stranger, or a foe?
Your partial judgment may perhaps complain,
And think me barb'rous for my just disdain;
Ill-bred then let me be, but not unchaste,
Nor my clear fame with any spot defac'd.
Tho' in my face there's no affected frown,
Nor in my carriage a feign'd niceness shown,
I keep my honour still without a stain,
Nor has my love made any coxcomb vain.
Your boldness I with admiration fee.
What hope had you to gain a queen like me?
Because a hero forc'd me once away,
Am I thought fit to be a fecond prey?
Had I been won, I had deferv'd your blame;
But fure my part was nothing but the shame:
Yet the base theft to him no fruit did bear;
I 'fcap'd unhurt by any thing but fear:
Rude force might fome unwilling kiffes gain,
But that was all he ever could obtain.
You on fuch terms would ne'er have let me go ;
Were he like you, we had not parted fo.
Untouch'd the youth reftor'd me to my friends,
And modest usage made me fome amends.
'Tis virtue to repent a vicious deed.
Did he repent, that PARIS might fucceed?
Sure 'tis fome fate that fets me above wrongs,
Yet still exposes me to busy tongues.
I'll not complain; for who's difpleas'd with love,
If it fincere, difcreet, and conftant prove?
But that I fear- -not that I think you base,
Or doubt the blooming beauties of my face;
But all your fex is fubject to deceive,
And ours, alas! too willing to believe.
Yet others yield; and love o'ercomes the best-
But why should I not shine above the rest?
Fair LEDA's story feems at first to be
A fit example ready found for me:
But she was couzen'd by a borrow'd shape,
And under harmless feathers felt a rape:
If I fhould yield, what reafon could I ufe?
By what mistake the loving crime excuse?
Her fault was in her pow'rful lover lost ;
But of what JUPITER have I to boast?
Tho' you to heroes, and to kings fucceed,
Our famous race does no addition need;
And great alliances but useless prove
To one that fprings herself from mighty Jove.
Go then and boast in fome lefs haughty place
Your Phrygian blood, and PRIAM's ancient race,
Which I would fhew I valu'd, if I durft;
You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first.
The crown of Troy is pow'rful, I confefs;
But I have reafon to think ours no lefs.
Your letter, fill'd with promises of all
That men can good, and women pleasant call,
Gives expectation such an ample field,
As would move goddeffes themselves to yield.
But if I e'er offend great Juno's laws,
Yourself shall be the dear, the only cause ;
Either my honour I'll to death maintain,
Or follow you without mean thoughts of gain.
Not that fo fair a present I despise;
We like the gift, when we the giver prize:
But 'tis your love moves me, which made you take
Such pains, and run fuch hazards for my fake.
I have perceiv'd (tho' I diffembled too)
A thousand things that love has made
Your eager eyes would almost dazzle mine,
In which (wild man!) your wanton thoughts would Sometimes you'd figh, fometimes diforder'd stand, And with unufual ardour prefs my hand;
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