Here, like the stars' mix'd radiance, they unite
To dazzle and perplex our wandering sight:
The muse each charmer singly shall survey,
And tune to each her tributary lay.

So when, in blended tints, with sweet surprizę
Assembled beauties strike our ravish'd eyes,
Such as in Lely's melting colors shine,

Or spring, great Kneller! from a hand like thine,

On all with pleasing awe at once we gaze,

And, lost in wonder, know not which to praise, But singly view'd, each nymph delights us more, Disclosing graces unperceiv'd before.

First let the muse with generous ardor try To chase the mist from dark opinion's eye : Nor mean we here to blame that father's care, Who guards from learned wives his booby heir, Since oft that heir with prudence has been known, To dread a genius that transcends his own: The wise themselves should with discretion choose, Since letter'd nymphs their knowledge may abuse, And husbands oft experience to their cost The prudent housewife in the scholar lost : But those incur deserv'd contempt, who prize Their own high talents, and their sex despise, With haughty mien each social bliss defeat, And sully all their learning with conceit: Of such the parent justly warns his son, And such the muse herself will bid him shun.

But lives there one, whose unassuming mind, Tho' grac'd by nature, and by art refin❜d, Pleas'd with domestic excellence, can spare Some hours from studious ease to social care, And with her pen that time alone employs Which others waste in visits, cards, and noise; From affectation free, tho' deeply read,

"With wit well natur'd, and with books well bred?"

With such (and such there are) each happy day
Must fly improving, and improv'd away;
Inconstancy might fix and settle there,

And wisdom's voice approve the chosen fair.

Nor need we now from our own Britain rove, In search of genius, to the Lesbian grove, Tho' Sappho there her tuneful lyre has strung, And amorous griefs in sweetest accents sung, Since here, in Charles's days, amidst a train Of shameless bards, licentious and profane, The chaste Orinda rose; with purer light, Like modest Cynthia, beaming thro' the night: Fair friendship's lustre, undisguis'd by art, Glows in her lines, and animates her heart; Friendship, that jewel, which, though all confess Its peerless value, yet how few possess! For her the never-dying myrtle weaves A verdant chaplet of her odorous leaves;

If Cowley's or Roscommon's song can give
Immortal fame, her praise shall ever live.

Who can unmov'd hear Winchelsea reveal Thy horrors, spleen! which all, who paint must feel? My praises would but wrong her sterling wit, Since Pope himself applauds what she has writ.

But say, what Matron now walks musing forth From the bleak mountains of her native North? While round her brows two sisters of the Nine Poetic wreaths with philosophic twine!

Hail, Cockburne, hail! even now from Reason's

bowers

Thy Locke delighted culls the choicest flowers
To deck his great, successful champion's head,
And Clarke expects thee in the laurel shade.
Tho' long to dark, oblivious want a prey,
Thy aged worth pass'd unperceiv'd away,
Yet Scotland now shall ever boast thy fame,
While England mourns thy undistinguish'd name,
And views with wonder, in a female mind,
Philospher, divine, and poet join'd!

The modest muse a veil with pity throws O'er vice's friends, and virtue's female foes ; Abash'd she views the bold unblushing mien Of modern Manley, Centlivre, and Behn;

And grieves to see one nobly born disgrace
Her modest sex, and her illustrious race.
Tho' harmony thro' all their numbers flow'd,
And genuine wit its every grace bestow'd,
Nor genuine wit, nor harmony, excuse
The dangerous sallies of a wanton muse:
Nor can such tuneful, but immoral, lays
Expect the tribute of impartial praise :
As soon might Philips, Pilkington, and Vane,
Deserv'd applause for spotless virtue gain.

But hark! what Nymph, in Frome's embroider'd vale ?

With strains seraphic swells the vernal gale ?
With what sweet sounds the bordering forest rings
For sportive Echo catches, as she sings,

Each falling accent, studious to prolong

The warbled notes of Rowe's ecstatic song.
Old Avon pleas'd his reedy forehead rears,
And polish'd Orrery delighted hears.

See with what transport she resigns her breath,
Snatch'd by a sudden, but a wish'd-for death!
Releas'd from earth, with smiles she soars on high
Amidst her kindred spirits of the sky,

Where faith and love those endless joys bestow,
That warm'd her lays, and fill'd her hopes below.

Nor can her noble Friend escape unseen,
Or from the Muse her modest virtues screen;

Here, sweetly blended, to our wondering eyes,
The peeress, poetess, and Christian rise :
And tho' the Nine her tuneful strains inspire,
We less her genius, than her heart, admire,
Pleas'd, 'midst the great, one truly good to see,
And proud to tell that Somerset is she.

By generous views one Peeress more demands
A grateful tribute from all female hands;
One, who to shield them from the worst of foes,
In their just cause dar'd Pope himself oppose.
Their own dark forms deceit and envy wear,
By Irwin touch'd with truth's celestial spear,
By her disarm'd, ye witlings! now give o'er
Your empty sneers, and shock the sex no more.

Thus bold Camilla, when the Trojan chief Attack'd her country, flew to its relief; Beneath her lance the bravest warriors bled, And fear dismay'd the host, which great Aeneas led.

But ah! why heaves my breast this pensive sigh Why starts this tear unbidden from my eye?

What breast from sighs, what eye from tears re

frains,

When, sweetly-mournful, hapless Wright complains?
And who but grieves to see her generous mind,
For nobler views and worthier guests design'd,