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3. Sixteen was then our utmost age, Two years have lingering pass'd away,
love! And now new thoughts our minds en
gage, At least, I feel dispos’d to stray, love!
4. 'Tis I that am alone to blame,
1, that am guilty of love's treason; Since your sweet breast is still the same,
Caprice must be my only reason.
5. I do not, love! suspect your truth, With jealous doubt my bosom heaves
not; Warm was the passion of my youth,
One trace of dark deceit it leaves not.
WOMAN! experience might have told me That all must love thee, who behold
thee: Surely experience might have taught Thy firmest promises are nought; But, plac'd in all thy charms before me, All I forget, but to adore thee. Oh memory! thou choicest blessing, When join'd with hope, when still pos
sessing; But how much curst by every lover When hope is fled, and passion's over. Woman, that fair and fond deceiver. How prompt are striplings to believe her. How ihrobs the pulse, when first we view The eve that rolls in glossy blue, Or sparkles black, or mildly throws A beam from under hazel brows! How quick we credit every oath, And hear her plight the willing troth! Fondly we hope twill last for aye, When, lo! she changes in a day. This record will for ever stand, “Woman, thy vows are trac'd in sand," !
[First printed, December, 1806.] i The last line is almost a literal translatie from a Spanish proverb.
[The last line is not "almost a literal trans.
6. No, no, my flame was not pretended;
For, oh! I lov'd you most sincerelv; And — though our dream at last is
ended My bosom still esteems you dearly. 1 [" The lady's name was Julia Leacroft" (Noie by Miss E. Pigot).]
SISCE the refinement of this polish'd age Has swept immoral raillery from the
stage; Since taste has now expung'd licentious
wit, Which stamp'd disgrace on all an author
writ; Since, now, to please with purer scenes
we seek, Nor dare to call the blush from Beauty's
cbeek; Oh! let the modest Muse some pity
claim, 1 And meet indulgence -- though she find
not fame. 1 uil, not for her alone, we wish respect, Obers appear more conscious of defect: Tonighi no vel'ran Roscii you behold, a all ibe arts of scenic action old; So COOKE, no KEMBLE, can salute you
here, VOSIDDONS draw the sympathetic tear; Tonight you throng to witness the début
embryo Actors, to the Drama new: Here, then, our almost unfledg'd wings
we try; C'ip not our pinions, ere the birds can
Not one poor trembler, only, fear betrays, Who hopes, yet almost dreads to meet
your praise; But all our Dramatis Personæ wait, In fond suspense this crisis of their fate. No venal views our progress can retard, Your generous plaudits are our sole
reward; For these, each Hero all his power dis
plays, Each timid Heroine shrinks before your
gaze: Surely the last will some protection find ! None, to the softer sex, can prove un
kind: While Youth and Beauty form the
female shield, The sternest Censor to the fair must
yield. Yet, should our feeble efforts nought
avail, Should, after all, our best endeavours fail; Still, let some mercy in your bosoms live, And, if you can't applaud, at least
[First printed, December, 1806.)
ELIZA! what fools are the Mussulman
sect, Who, to woman, deny the soul's
future existence; Could they see thee, Eliza! they'd own
their defect, And this doctrine would meet with a
Failing in this our first attempt to soar, Drooping, alas! we fall to rise no more.
in from a Spanish proverb," but an ad****n of part of a stanza from the Diana of ire de Montemajor.
(Sruthey, in his Letters from Spcin, 1707; In gros, gives a specimen of the Diana, and mrelers the lines in question thus "An Love bebed us from his secret stand,
cik'd his triumph, laughing, to behold To ste me trust a writing traced in sand, To see me credit what a woman told me.")
(*I enacted Penruddock, in The Wheel of Frans, and Tristram Fickle, in Allingham's Sanre of The Weathercock, for three nights, in Se prinate theatricals at Southwell, in 1806, with meat ayolaus. The occasional prologue kecur olunteer play was also of my combiti - Liers, 1801, v. 455.]
Had their Prophet possess'd half an
atom of sense, He ne'er would have woman from
Paradise driven; Instead of his Houris, a flimsy pretence, With woman alone he had peopled his
3. Yet, still, to increase your calamities
more, Not content with depriving your
bodies of spirit,
He allots one poor husband to share
amongst four! With souls you'd dispense; but, this
last, who could bear it?
9. But though husband and wife shall a
length be disjoin'd, Yet woman and man ne'er were mean
to dissever, Our chains once dissolv'd, and
hearts unconfin'd, We'll love without bonds, but we'l
love you for ever.
4. His religion to please neither party is
made; On husbands 'tis hard, to the wives
most uncivil; Still I can't contradict, what so oft has
been said, "Though women are angels, yet wed
lock's the devil."
Though souls are denied you by fool:
and by rakes, Should you own it yourselves, I woul
even then doubt you, Your nature so much of celestial par
takes, The Garden of Eden would wither without you.
SOUTHWELL, October 9, 1806. [First printed, December, 1806.)
Gray, Alcaic Fragment.
5. This terrible truth, even Scripture has
told, Ye Benedicks! hear me, and listen
with rapture; If a glimpse of redemption you wish to
behold, Of St MATT. read the second and twentieth chapter.
6. 'Tis surely enough upon earth to be
vex'd, With wives who eternal confusion are
spreading; “But in Heaven," (so runs the Evan
gelist's Text,) “We neither have giving in marriage, or wedding."
7. From this we suppose, (as indeed well we
may,) That should Saints after death, with
their spouses put up more, And wives, as in life, aim at absolute
sway, All Heaven would ring with the conjugal uproar.
8. Distraction and Discord would follow in
course, Nor MATTHEW, nor MARK, nor St
PAUL, can deny it, The only expedient is general divorce, To prevent universal disturbance and
WHEN Friendship or Love
Our sympathies move; When Truth, in a glance, should appear
The lips may beguile,
With a dimple or smile,
Too oft is a smile
But the hypocrite's wile, To mask detestation, or fear;
Give me the soft sigh,
Whilst the soul-telling eye Is dimm’d, for a time, with a Tear.
To us mortals below,
Compassion will melt,
Where this virtue is felt,
Adopt this design,
No longer forbear
6. They know the Chancellor has got
Some pretty livings in disposal:
Your bosom defend,
Lest your deep-wounded heart,
When incens'd by the smart Should lead you to curse the coquette.
October 27, 1806. [First printed, December, 1800.)
1f"Fight with silver spears" (i.e. with bribes). "and thou shalt prevail in all things." Reply of the Pythian Oracle to Philip of Macedon)
2 The Diable Boileur of Le Sage, where Asmodeus, the demon, places Don Cleofas on in elevated situation, and unroofs the houses for inspection. (Don Cleofas, clinging to the clock of Asmodeus, is carried through the air to the summit of S. Salvador.]
3 [On the death of Pitt, in January, 1806, Lop! Henry Petty beat Lord Palmerston in the cun. test for the representation of the University of Cambridge in Parliament.]
* (Probably Lord Henry Petty.]