University of Virginia Library

If Afra's Worth were needful to be shown,
What Pen could do it better than her own?
Thro all her Works a happy Warmth does shine,
That renders e'ery thing she writes Divine.

Witness her Golden Age, so fam'd a Piece,
It has at once outdone both Rome and Greece.
“The Nymphs, she says, were free, no nice Disdain
“Forbad their Joys, or gave their Lovers Pain;
“Ten thousand wanton Cupids you might view,
“That scatter'd lech'rous Darts where'er they flew;
“Here you might see expecting Virgins lie,
“And strait young Swains those Virgins Lusts supply.
This Age she paints, and with such great Success,
That all things but her Chastity are less.
Next awful Bajazet's more awful Flame,
Her Wit has plac'd in the first Rank of Fame;
And sure his Passion's fit for her to sing,
Who is a Slave, and would be thought a King.
Go on then, mighty Poetress, go on,
And finish what's so happily begun;
In lofty Language and adventurous Verse,
Your Patron Bajazet's great Worth rehearse;
Bajazet, from Pride and Envy free,
Bajazet, Prince of Humility,
Bajazet, the fittest Theme for thee.
Describe his matchless Loyalty to's Prince,
His great Civility, and greater Sense;
How courteously he to all Men does bend,
And what delight he takes to serve his Friend:
But above all, that dauntless Courage show
With which he flew to quell the Tangier Foe,
And how the Gen'ral after two days stay,
When all the rest were fighting, came away;
But first perform'd all his Commission bid,
Nothing he went to do, and nothing did.
When this thou'st done, who knows but he may prove,
Since Gloriana's Heart's too firm to move,
So good at last, to crown you with his Love?
And sure Jove never join'd a happier Pair,
He kind as lovely, you as good as fair.

Twin'd in his Arms, I wish you happy Days,
While I'm content t'adore thee in thy Plays.
What tho your Heroes are sworn Foes to Sense,
And affect Bombast, Noise, and Insolence?
VVhat tho your loyal Men are lewd and vain,
Ridiculous, impertinent, profane?
VVhat tho your vertuous VVomen Vertue hate,
And your chast Virgins curse their Virgin State?
What tho thou bring'st (to please a vicious Age)
Af ar more vicious Widow on the Stage,
Just reaking from a Stallion's rank Embrace
With rifled Garments, and disorder'd Face,
T'acquaint the Audience with her slimy case?
What can the surly Criticks urge from hence,
When thou shalt rise up in thine own defence,
And plead Impenitable Impudence?
Such Impudence! but gentle Muse retire,
And what thou canst not comprehend, admire.