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H E S I O D:

O R, T H E

Rise of WOMAN.

WHAT antient times (those 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 sing. In Greece they.fram'd the tale;
(In Greece 'twas thought, a woman might be frail)
Ye modern Beauties! where the Poet drew
His softest pencil, think he dream'd of you;
And warn'd by him, ye wanton pens, beware
How heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the Fair.
The case was Hesiod's; he the fable writ;
Some think with meaning, some with idle wit:

B 5 Perhaps

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 swarm'd with men)
That one Prometheus, sprung of heavenly birth,
(Our Author's song can witness) liv'd on earth.
He carv'd the turf to mold a manly frame,
And stole from Jove his animating flame.
The sly contrivance o'er Olympus ran,
When thus the monarch of the stars began.

Oh vers'd in arts! whose daring thoughts aspire, 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 so design'd, As fuits the counsel of a God to find; A pleasing bosom-cheat, a specious ill, Which selt they curse, yet covet still to feel.

He said, and Vulcan strait the Sire commands, To temper mortar with etherial hands;

In

In fuch a shape to mold a rising Fair,
As virgin goddesses are proud to wear;
To make her eyes with diamond-water shine,
And form her organs for a voice divine.
'Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the Pow'r obey'd;
And work'd, and wonder'd at the work he made j
The fairest, softest, sweetest frame beneath,
Now made to seem, now more than seem to breathe.

As Vulcan ends, thechearful Queen of charms.
Clafp'd the new-panting creature in her arms;
From that embrace a fine complexion spread,
Where mingled whiteness glow'd with softer red.
Then in a kiss she breath'd her various arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts j
A mind for love, but still a changing mind;
The lisp affected, and the glance design'd;
The sweet confusing blush, die secret wink,
The gentle-swimming walk, the courteous sink,
The stare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown,
For decent yielding, looks declining down,

The

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