 | [Poems in] Poetical miscellanies |  |
218
On a Dispute with a Gentleman about the Excellence of some of Mr Dryden's Writings; when a Lady, being ask'd her Opinion, blam'd them.
By the same Hand.
To
Dryden's Muse I early Homage pay'd,
And Manhood fix'd the Choice my Youth had made:
The Numbers flow'd delightful from his Tongue,
And all was Harmony, when Dryden sung.
But since Cleora the sweet Bard disdains,
Harsh is his Verse, and rugged are his Strains:
Not kneeling Torrismond can Pity move,
And the World seems too meanly lost for Love.
And Manhood fix'd the Choice my Youth had made:
The Numbers flow'd delightful from his Tongue,
And all was Harmony, when Dryden sung.
But since Cleora the sweet Bard disdains,
Harsh is his Verse, and rugged are his Strains:
Not kneeling Torrismond can Pity move,
And the World seems too meanly lost for Love.
Nor let my Rival triumph, tho' I yield;
Her Charms, and not his Reas'nings, won the Field.
Pleas'd with Cleora's Censures, I submit:
So fair a Face is sure a Judge of Wit.
Rough are the Lines, that rough to her appear;
Her Eyes confess the Justness of her Ear.
The fam'd Corinthian thus redeem'd her Cause,
And with bright Glances baffl'd all the Laws.
Her Orators had labour'd long in vain
To prove her Injur'd, and her Right regain.
Imperial Reason still unwarp'd was found,
And just Decrees the joyful Victor crown'd:
'Till Lais, rising with a sweet Surprize,
Disclos'd her Bosom, and unveil'd her Eyes.
Amaz'd, each Judge, the silent Pleader view'd,
Repeal'd the Sentence, and her Suit renew'd.
The Faults they saw, they now can see no more,
And blame those Actions, which they prais'd before.
Triumphant Wrong o'er vanquish'd Right prevail'd,
And Beauty won, where Eloquence had fail'd.
Her Charms, and not his Reas'nings, won the Field.
Pleas'd with Cleora's Censures, I submit:
So fair a Face is sure a Judge of Wit.
219
Her Eyes confess the Justness of her Ear.
The fam'd Corinthian thus redeem'd her Cause,
And with bright Glances baffl'd all the Laws.
Her Orators had labour'd long in vain
To prove her Injur'd, and her Right regain.
Imperial Reason still unwarp'd was found,
And just Decrees the joyful Victor crown'd:
'Till Lais, rising with a sweet Surprize,
Disclos'd her Bosom, and unveil'd her Eyes.
Amaz'd, each Judge, the silent Pleader view'd,
Repeal'd the Sentence, and her Suit renew'd.
The Faults they saw, they now can see no more,
And blame those Actions, which they prais'd before.
Triumphant Wrong o'er vanquish'd Right prevail'd,
And Beauty won, where Eloquence had fail'd.
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