HAT antient times (thofe times we fancy wife)
Have left on long record of Woman's rise,
What morals teach it, and what fables hide,
What author wrote it, how that author dy'd,
All these I fing. In Greece they fram'd the tale
(In Greece, 'twas thought a Woman might be frail.)
Ye modern beauties! where the poet drew
His fofteft pencil, think he dreamt of you;
And warn'd by him, ye wanton pens, beware
How Heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the fair.
The cafe was Hefiod's; he the fable writ;
Some think with meaning, fome with idle wit:
Perhaps 'tis either, as the ladies please;
I wave the contest, and commence the lays.
In days of yore, (no matter where or when, 'Twas ere the low creation fwarm'd with men) That one Prometheus, fprung of heav'nly birth, (Our author's fong can witness) liv'd on earth. A
He carv'd the turf to mold a manly frame,
And stole from Jove his animating flame.
The fly contrivance o'er Olympus ran,
When thus the monarch of the stars began.
Oh vers'd in arts! whofe daring thoughts afpire To kindle clay with never dying fire!
Enjoy thy glory past, that gift was thine;
The next thy creature meets, be fairly mine:
And fuch a gift, a vengeance fo defign'd,
As fuits the counsel of a God to find;
A pleasing bofom cheat, a fpecious ill,
Which felt thy curfe, yet covet still to feel.
He faid, and Vulcan strait the fire commands,
To temper mortar with etherial hands;
In fuch a fhape to mold a rifing fair,
As virgin-goddeffes are proud to wear;
To make her eyes with diamond-water shine,
And form her organs for a voice divine.
'Twas thus the fire ordain'd; the pow'r obey'd;
And work'd, and wonder'd at the work he made;
The faireft, fofteft, fweetest frame beneath,
Now made to feem, now more than feem, to breath.
As Vulcan ends, the chearful Queen of Charms
Clafp'd the new panting creature in her arms;
From that embrace a fine complexion fpread,
Where mingled whiteness glow'd with fofter red,
Then in a kifs fhe breath'd her various arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts;
A mind for love, but still a changing mind;
The lifp affected, and the glance design'd;
The fweet confufing blush, the secret wink,
The gentle-fwimming walk, the courteous fink,
The ftare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown,
For decent yielding looks declining down,
The practis'd languish, where well-feign'd defire
Wou'd own its melting in a mutual fire;
Gay fmiles to comfort; April show'rs to move;
And all the nature, all the art, of love.
Gold-fcepter'd Juno next exalts the fair;
Her touch endows her with imperious air,
Self-valuing fancy, highly-crefted pride,
Strong fov'reign will, and fome defire to chide:
For which, an eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native tropes of anger, arms the fex.
Minerva (fkilful goddess) train'd the maid To twirl the spindle by the twisting thread, To fix the loom, instruct the reeds to part, Cross the long weft, and close the web with art, An useful gift; but what profuse expence, What world of fashions, took its rife from hence! Young Hermes next, a close-contriving god, Her brows encircled with his ferpent rod: Then plots and fair excuses, fill'd her brain, The views of breaking am'rous vows for gain, The price of favours; the defigning arts That aim at riches in contempt of hearts;
And for a comfort in the marriage life,
The little pilf'ring temper of a wife.
Full on the fair his beams Apollo flung,
And fond perfwafion tip'd her eafy tongue;
He gave her words, where oily flatt'ry lays
The pleafing colours of the art of praise;
And wit, to fcandal exquifitely prone,
Which frets another's fpleen to cure its own.
Thofe facred virgins whom the bards revere,
Tun'd all her voice, and shed a sweetness there,
To make her sense with double charms abound,
Or make her lively nonfenfe please by found.
To dress the maid, the decent graces brought
A robe in all the dies of beauty wrought,
And plac'd their boxes o'er a rich brocade
Where pictur'd loves on ev'ry cover play'd;
Then spread those implements that Vulcan's art
Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's heart;
The wire to curl, the close indented comb
To call the locks that lightly wander, home;
And chief, the mirrour, where the ravish'd maid
Beholds and loves her own reflected shade.
Fair Flora lent her ftores, the purpled Hours
Confin'd her treffes with a wreath of flow'rs;
Within the wreath arose a radiant crown
A veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure veil with ferpent' fold,
The purfled border deck'd the floor with gold
Her robe (which closely by the girdle brac't
Reveal'd the beauties of a flender waste)
Flow'd to the feet; to copy Venus' air,
When Venus' ftatues have a robe to wear.
The new fprung creature finish'd thus for harms, Adjusts her habit, practises her charms,
With blushes glows, or fhines with lively fmiles,
Confirms her will, or recollects her wiles:
Then conscious of her worth, with easy pace
Glides by the glafs, and turning views her face.
A finer flax than what they wrought before,
Thro' time's deep cave the Sifter Fates explore,
Then fix the loom, their fingers nimbly weave,
And thus their toil prophetic fongs deceive.
Flow from the rock, my flax! and swiftly flow, Purfue thy thread; the fpindle runs below. A creature fond and changing, fair and vain, The creature woman, rifes now to reign. New beauty blooms, a beauty form'd to fly; New love begins, a love produc'd to dye;
parts distress the troubled scenes of life,
The fondling mistress, and the ruling wife.
Men, born to labour, all with pains provide;
Women have time, to facrifice to pride:
They want the care of man, their want they know,
And dress to please with heart-alluring show,
The show prevailing, for the fway contend,
And make a servant where they meet a friend.
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