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Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd,
To Maids alone and children are reveal'd:
What tho' no credit doubting Wits may give,
The Fair and Innocent shall still believe,
Know, then, unnumbered Spirits round thee fly,
The light Militia of the lower ky:
These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing,
Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air,
And view with scorn two Pages and a Chair.
As now your own, our beings were of old,
And once inclos’d in Woman's beauteous mould;
Thence, by a soft tranfition, we repair
From earthly vehicles to these of air.
Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fed,
That all her vanities at once are dead;
Succeeding vanities she still regards,
And, tho' the plays no more, o’erlooks the cards.
Her joy in gilded Chariots, when alive,
And love of Ombre, after death survive.
For when the Fair in all their pride expire,
To their first Elements their Souls retire:
The sprites of fiery Termagants in Flame
Mount

up,

and take a Salamander's name.
Soft yielding minds to Water glide away,
And fip, with nymphs, their elemental tea.
The
graver

Prude finks downward to a Gnome,
In search of mischief still on Earth to roam.
The light Coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair,
And sport and flutter in the fields of air.
B 2

Know

Say what frange motive, Goddess! could compel A well-bred Lord t'assault a gentle Belle ? O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor’d, Could make a gentle Belle reject a Lord ? In taks fo bold, can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage ? Sol thro' white curtains shot a tim’rous ray, And ope'd those eyes that must eclipfe the day: Now lap-dogs gave themselves the rouzing shake, And sleepless lovers, juft at twelve, awake: Thrice rung the bell, the fipper knock'd the ground, And the press’d watch return’d a silver found. Belinda still her downy pillow prest; Her guardian Sylph prolong'd the balmy reft: 'Twas He had summon'd to her filent bed The morning dream that hover'd o'er her head. A youth more glittring than a birth night beau, (That ev'n in fiumber caus’d her cheek to glow) Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay, And thus in whispers faid, or seem'd to say. Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care Of thousand bright inhabitants of air ! If e'er one Vision touch thy infant thought, Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught; Of airy Elves by moonlight shadows seen, The silver token, and the circled green, Or virgins visited by Angel-pow'rs, With golden crowns and wreaths of heav'nly flow'rs; Hear and believe! thy own importance know, Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.

Some

Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd,
To Maids alone and children are reveal'd:
What tho' no credit doubting Wits may give,
The Fair and Innocent shall still believe.
Know, then, unnumbered Spirits round thee fly,
The light Militia of the lower ky:
These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing,
Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
Think what an equipage thou hast in air,
And view with scorn two Pages and a Chair.
As now your own, our beings were of old,
And once inclos'd in Woman's beauteous mould ;
Thence, by a soft transition, we repair
From earthly vehicles to these of air. .
Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fled,
That all her vanities at once are dead;
Succeeding vanities she still regards,
And, tho' the plays no more, o’erlooks the cards.
Her joy in gilded Chariots, when alive,
And love of Ombre, after death survive.
For when the Fair in all their pride expire,
To their firit Elements their Souls retire:
The sprites of fiery Termagants in Flame
Mount

up,

and take a Salamander's name.
Soft yielding minds to Water glide away,
And fip, with nymphs, their elemental tea.
The graver Prude finks downward to a Gnome,
In search of mischief still on Earth to roam.
The light Coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair,
And sport and flutter in the fields of air.

Know

.

B 2

Know farther yet; whoever, fair and challe,
Rejects mankind, is by fome Sylph embrac'd :
For Spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease
Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.
What guards the purity of melting maids,
In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades,
Safe from the treach'rous friend, the daring spark,
The glance by day, the whisper in the dark,
When kind occasion prompts their warm defires,
When music softens, and when dancing fires ?
'Tis but their Sylph, the wise Celestials know,
Tho' Honour is the word with Men below,

Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face,
For life predestin'd to the Gnomes embrace.
These swell their prospects and exalt their pride,
When offers are disdain’d, and love deny'd :

ideas croud the vacant brain,
While Peers, and Dukes, and all their sweeping train,
And Garters, Stars, and Coronets appear,
And, in soft sounds, Your Grace falutes their ear.
''Tis these that early taint the female soul,
Instruct the eyes of young Coquettes to roll,
Teach infant cheeks a bidden blush to know,
And little hearts to flutter at a Beau.

Oft, when the world imagine women stray,
The Sylphs thro' myftic mazes guide their way,
Thro' all the giddy circle they pursue,
And old impertinence expel by new.
What tender maid but must a victim fall
To one man's treat, but for another's ball?

When

Then gay

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When Florio speaks, what virgin could withstand,
If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand;
With varying vanities, from ev'ry part
They shift the moving Toy-shop of their heart;
Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots

strive,
Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive.
This erring mortals Levity may call,
Oh blind to truth! the Sylphs contrive it all.

Of these am I, who thy protection claim;
A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.
Late, as I rang'd the crystal wilds of air,
In the clear Mirror of thy ruling star
I saw, alas, some dread event impend,
Ere to the main this morning sun descend;
But heav'n reveals not what, or how, or where :
Warn'd by the Sylph, oh pious maid, beware!
This to disclose is all thy guardian can:
Beware of all; but, most, beware of Man !
He said ; when Shock, who thought she slept too

long, Leap'd up, and wak'd his mistress with his tongue. 'Twas then, Belinda, if report say true, Thy eyes first open’d on a Billet-doux ; Wounds, Charms, and Ardors, were no sooner read, But all the Vision vanish'd from thy head.

And now, unveild, the Toilet stands display'd, Each silver vase in mystic order laid. First, rob'd in white, the Nymph intent adores, With head uncover'd, the Cosmetic pow'rs.

B 3

A heav'nly

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