Within the Wreath arose a radiant Crown;

A Veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure Veil with Serpent 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 Fect; to copy Venus Air,
When Venus's Statues have a Robe to wear.

The new fprungCreature finifh'd thus for Harms, Adjusts her Habit, practises her Charms,

With Blushes glows, or fhines with lively Smiles, Confirms her Will, or recollects her Wiles: Then conscious of her Worth, with eafy Pace Glides by the Glass, and turning views her Face.

A finer Flax than what they wrought before, Thro' Time's deep Cave the Sifter Fates explore, Then

Then fix the Loom, their Fingers nimbly weave,

And thus their Toil prophetick Songs deceive.

Flow from the Rock my Flax! and swiftly flow, Pursue thy Thread; the Spindle 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; New Parts diftrefs the troubled Scenes of Life, The fondling Miftrefs, 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 Sway contend,

And make a Servant where they meet a Friend,

Thus

Thus in a thousand wax-erected Forts

A loytering Race the painful Bee fupports,
From Sun to Sun, from Bank to Bank he flies,
With Honey loads his Bag, with Wax his Thighs,
Fly where he will, at home the Race remain,
Prune the filk Dress, and murmʼring eat the Gain.

Yet here and there we grant a gentle Bride,
Whose Temper betters by the Father's fide;
Unlike the reft that double humane Care,
Fond to relieve, or refolute to fhare:
Happy the Man whom thus his Stars advance!
The Curfe is gen'ral, but the Bleffing Chance,

TA

Thus fung the Sifters, while the Gods admire Their beauteous Creature, made for Man in Ire;

The

The young Pandora fhe, whom all contend
To make too perfect not to gain her End:
Then bid the Winds that fly to breath the Spring,
Return to bear her on a gentle Wing;

With wafting Airs the Winds obfequious blow,
And land the shining Vengeance safe below.
A golden Coffer in her Hand fhe bore,

(The Present treach'rous, but the Bearer more) 'Twas fraught withPangs; for Jove ordain'd above, That Gold fhou'd aid, and Pangs attend on Love.

Her gay Defcent the Man perceiv'd afar,
Wond'ring he run to catch the falling Star;
But fo furpriz'd, as none but he can tell,
Who lov'd fo quickly, and who lov'd fo well.
O'er all his Veins the wand'ring Paffion burns,

He calls her Nymph, and ev'ry Nymph by turns.

Her

Or fwears that Venus must be such as hers.

She, proud to rule, yet ftrangely fram'd to teize, Neglects his Offers while her Airs fhe plays, Shoots fcornful Glances from the bended Frown, In brisk Disorder trips it up and down,

Then hums a careless Tune to lay the Storm, And fits, and blufhes, fmiles, and yields, in Form.

"Now take what Jove defign'd (fhe foftly cry'd) "This box thy Portion, and my felf thy Bride:" Fir'd with the Profpect of the double Charms, He fnatch'd the Box, and Bride, with eager Arms.

Unhappy Man! to whom fo bright fhe fhone, The fatal Gift, her tempting felf, unknown! The Winds were filent, all the Waves asleep,

And Heav'n was. trac'd upon the flatt'ring Deep;

But