University of Virginia Library

LUCIA.

Fair Lucia, to no fortune born,
Affects all nicety to scorn.
Why should her virtue rigid prove?
Why prove an enemy to love?
Since Fortune's favours, ah! denied,
In which such pleasures are implied;
Why not indulge her tender mind
In pleasures of another kind?
Her state dependent cries aloud,
“It ill becomes you to be proud.”
Her wants in the same hint agree,
“You ne'er can too obsequious be.”
Thus, what a vice in others seems,
She in herself a grace esteems.
“Virtue but differs from a crime,
“By certain rules of place and time;
“Morality on mode depends,
“With it declines, with it extends;
“The mode our circumstances make,
“Acting from them we ne'er mistake;
“Our circumstances, right to count,
“To fix'd necessity amount;
“And sure, our inference to draw,
“Necessity's above all law.”
Thus, Lucia, with conviction still,
Waves bold her philosophic quill;
Despises Tillotson and Locke,
And crushes Barrow at one shock.
Go on, sweet maid!—O! what delight
To think, “Whatever is, is right!”
That partial ills, well understood,
Will usher in the general good.
Say, can a lovely female err,
Who would to self mankind prefer?
Make mortals happy—if she can,
Quite piteous of the sons of men?
No; while Philanthropy's extoll'd,
And first in Fame's bright lists inroll'd,
Lucia the fair must ever prove
The parmanent rewards of—Love.