Original poems on several subjects :: :: University of Virginia Library

Nature's more perfect workmanship we trace,
And beautiful contrivance, in the face.
It exquisite she wrought, without allay,
To a consistence of the softest clay;
Surrounded it with graceful shades of hair,
To render every feature doubly fair,

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Set off each mellow'd beauty to the sight,
In all the soft varieties of light;
With curious organs furnish'd it around,
To relish all the softer modes of sound;
Made it the seat of love's inchanting wiles,
Of artless dimples, languishments, and smiles,
Graces and airs, and blushes, all design'd
To mark the tender bias of the mind.
She gave a waxen polish to the skin,
The sky-blue veins transparent from within;
Rais'd the smooth forehead, set the brows apart,
Thrown into arches with surpassing art;
Touch'd with her pencil, of Carminian dip,
The health-plump cheek and nectar-humid lip;
Bade the full eye revolve its lucid ball,
To cast a mild effulgence over all,
To light up every feature, and display
A countenance, like Maria's, ever gay;
Maria's that can ineffably impart
The softest passions to the feeling heart;
Make every bosom, by some secret charm,
Thrill with delight, and beat a sweet alarm.
Nor of itself alone: with graceful ease
Virtue by it exerts her power to please.

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Each glance, each movement she adopts, and then
Would represent them as her own to men.
Nor can the eye, howe'er exact, pretend
To mark where doth the nice resemblance end.

Not vainly then the lovely portrait made,
Not vainly Nature's plastic skill display'd.
To her, by this her image so endu'd,
What adoration's paid, what rites renew'd!
Nigh on the bended knee of silent awe,
What votive crouds in quick succession draw
Hands lifted up, and eyes to Heaven erect,
In all the ostentation of respect!
While other ardent worshippers in turn,
Their flaming incense on her altars burn;
Or offer up, in censers at her shrine,
Their fervent adulations half divine.
But kept we mediocrity in view,
Men would be men, nor women lose their due;
More reason then had females to be vain,
Though ne'er address'd in the seraphic strain.

What mighty conquests oft a beauteous face
Gains o'er the bravest of the human race!
Not more could Rome's imperial victor boast,
Though his proud trophies grac'd each warlike coast.

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What the bold hero scarcely can perform,
Though battles won, and cities sack'd by storm,
A smile's effusive sunshine can effect,
An eye's moist twinkle, or a look direct.
Women, whate'er disparaging we say,
Maintain o'er man a more than regal sway.
Kings have the pow'r to influence our knee,
But though o'eraw'd it bends, our hearts are free.
Not so, if Beauty challenge our respect,
Our knees express then what our hearts direct.

Knew women each advantage they enjoy,
And it as Nature dictates would employ,
That manner which the most aware beguiles,
Those magazines of glances and of smiles,
Darts lightning-wing'd, not those indulg'd to crowns,
With all their dread artillery of frowns;
What numbers, their appointed doom to meet,
Would fall like vanquish'd heroes at their feet!
As by a look made captive, mute deplor'd,
So by a look to Liberty restor'd.
Some kill by daggers, by the bullet some,
Others by poison Fate's dread prize become,
On racks expire whole multitudes; but still,
Save women, none by words and glances kill.

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Thus Nature wisely knowing, that at length
The rougher sex, presuming on their strength,
Would triumph o'er the gentler female race,
For strength gave women beauty in its place.
Nor this alone; but order'd Virtue too,
And Modesty, if led to public view,
To wait on Beauty with obsequious care,
And be the constant guardians of the fair.
Hence, both equality of power possess,
Or, if unlike, the man's accounted less;
For art discovers how mere strength to fly,
But not the love-beam'd lightning of the eye.

But yet Discretion must, with steady eyes,
Take the sure aim, and mark the lawful prize;
Else will the useless apparatus fail,
No force subdue, no artifice prevail.
Let then the female world from Maria learn,
Each her precise advantage to discern,
Her motive, place, her time, her object know,
Nor further than these authorise her go.

Hence Maria conquers oft'ner with a glance,
Or transient smile, as if by perfect chance,
Than Daphne with her every art display'd,
Her every charm to catch subservient made.

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Hence in her end soon Maria's prospects o'er,
But Daphne's never—till she be threescore.
No epithet of vain hence Maria gains,
Though Daphne scarce another term obtains.
Hence too, though Daphne's spring of beauty past,
Fresh and unsully'd still shall Maria's last.
O! could I gain fair Maria to my arms,
In all her bloom of self-reflected charms;
In all those soft attractions, that conspire
At once to raise and to correct desire;
Daphne should scarce my slightest thought employ,
To wound my peace, or interrupt my joy.