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"With thee be Chastity, of all afraid,

"Diftrusting all, a wife fufpicious maid;

"But man the moft-not more the mountain doe

"Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe.

"Cold is her breaft, like flow'rs that drink the dew;

"A filken veil conceals her from the view.

"No wild defires amidst thy train be known,
"But Faith, whofe heart is fix'd on one alone:
"Defponding Meekness, with her downcast eyes,
"And friendly Pity, full of tender fighs;
"And Love the laft. By these your hearts approve;
"Thefe are the virtues that muft lead to love."
Thus fung the fwain; and ancient legends fay,
The maids of Bagdat verify'd the lay:

Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along;
The shepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his song.



"TIS faid of widow, maid, and wife,

That honour is a woman's life;
Unhappy fex! who only claim

A being in the breath of fame ;
Which tainted, not the quick'ning gales
That sweep Sabæa's spicy vales,
Nor all the healing sweets restore,
That breathe along Arabia's fhore.

The trav'ller, if he chance to stray,
May turn uncenfur'd to his way;

Polluted ftreams again are pure,
And deepest wounds admit a cure:
But woman no redemption knows,
The wounds of honour never close.

Though diftant ev'ry hand to guide, Nor skill'd on life's tempeftuous tide, If once her feeble bark recede,

Or deviate from the course decreed,
In vain fhe feeks the friendless shore,
Her fwifter folly flies before!
The circling ports against her close,
And shut the wand'rer from repofe;
Till by conflicting waves opprefs'd,
Her found'ring pinnace finks to rest.

Are there no fuff'rings to atone
For but a fingle error?-None.
Though woman is avow'd, of old,
No daughter of celestial mould,
Her temp'ring not without allay,
And form'd but of the finer clay,
We challenge from the mortal dame
The ftrength angelic natures claim;
Nay more for facred stories tell,
That e'en immortal angels fell.

Whatever fills the teeming fphere Of humid earth, and ambient air, With varying elements endu❜d, Was form'd to fall, and rife renew'd.

The stars no fix'd duration know; Wide oceans ebb, again to flow; The moon repletes her waning face, All beauteous from her late difgrace;

And funs, that mourn approaching night,
Refulgent rife with new-born light.

In vain may death and time fubdue,
While Nature mints her race anew;
And holds fome vital fpark apart,
Like virtue, hid in ev'ry heart.
'Tis hence reviving warmth is feen,
To clothe a naked world in green.
No longer barr'd by winter's cold,
Again the gates of life unfold;
Again each infect tries his wing,
And lifts fresh pinions on the spring;
Again from ev'ry latent root
The bladed ftem and tendril shoot,
Exhaling incense to the skies,

Again to perish, and to rise.

And muft weak woman then difown The change to which a world is prone? In one meridian brightness shine, And ne'er like ev'ning funs decline? Refolv'd and firm alone?-Is this What we demand of woman ?-Yes!

But fhould the spark of vestal fire In fome unguarded hour expire; Or fhould the nightly thief invade Hefperia's chafte and facred shade, Of all the blooming fpoil poffefs'd, The dragon Honour charm'd to rest, Shall Virtue's flaine no more return? No more with virgin fplendor burn? No more the ravag'd garden blow With fpring's fucceeding bloffom?-Na.

Pity may mourn, but not restore;
And woman falls-to rife no more!
Within this fublunary fphere

A country lies-no matter where;
The clime may readily be found
By all who tread poetic ground;
A ftream, call'd Life, across it glides,
And equally the land divides;

And here, of Vice, the province lies;
And there, the hills of Virtue rife.

Upon a mountain's airy stand,
Whofe fummit look'd to either land,
An ancient pair their dwelling chofe,
As well for profpect as repose;

For mutual faith they long were fam'd,
And Temp'rance and Religion nam'd.
A num'rous progeny divine
Confefs'd the honours of their line;

But in a little daughter fair

Was center'd more than half their care;
For Heav'n, to gratulate her birth,
Gave figns of future joy to earth;
White was the robe this infant wore,
And Chastity the name she bore.

As now the maid in ftature grew
(A flow'r juft op'ning to the view)
Oft through her native lawns she stray'd,
And wrestling with the lambkins play'd;
Her looks diffufive fweets bequeath'd,
The breeze grew purer as the breath'd;
The morn her radiant blush affum'd,
The fpring with earlier fragrance bloom'd;

And Nature yearly took delight,

Like her, to dreis the world in white.
But when her ring form was seen
To reach the crifis of fifteen,
Her parents up the mountain's head
With anxious ftep their darling led;
By turns they fnatch'd her to their breast,
And thus the fears of age exprefs'd:-

O joyful cause of many a care!
O daughter, too divinely fair!
Yon world, on this important day,
Demands thee to a dang'rous way;
A painful journey all must go,
Whofe doubted period none can know ;
Whofe due direction who can find,
Where reafon's mute, and fenfe is blind?
Ah, what unequal leaders these,
Through fuch a wide perplexing maze!
Then mark the warnings of the wife,
And learn what love and

years advise.

Far to the right thy profpect bend, Where yonder tow'ring hills afcend; Lo, there the arduous path's in view Which Virtue and her fon's pursue ; With toil o'er lefs'ning earth they rife, And gain, and gain upon the skies. Narrow's the way her children tread, No walk for pleasure smoothly spread, But rough, and difficult, and steep, Painful to climb, and hard to keep.

Fruits immature those lands difpenfe, A food indelicate to fenfe,

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