Page:The Works of Abraham Cowley - volume 1 (ed. Aikin) (1806).djvu/216

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COWLEY POEMS.
For, as in angels, we
Do in thy verses see
Both improv'd sexes eminently meet;
They are than man more strong, and more than woman sweet.

They talk of Nine, I know not who,
Female chimeras, that o'er poets reign;
I ne'er could find that fancy true,
But have invok'd them oft, I'm sure, in vain:
They talk of Sappho; but, alas! the shame!
Ill-manners soil the lustre of her fame;
Orinda's inward virtue is so bright,
That, like a lantern's fair inclosed light,
It through the paper shines where she does write.
Honour and friendship, and the generous scorn
Of things for which we were not born
(Things that can only by a fond disease,
Like that of girls, our vicious stomachs please)
Are the instructive subjects of her pen:
And, as the Roman victory
Taught our rude land arts and civility,
At once she overcomes, enslaves, and betters, men.

But Rome with all her arts could ne'er inspire
A female breast with such a fire:
The warlike Amazonian train,
Who in Elysium now do peaceful reign,
And Wit's mild empire before arms prefer,
Hope 't will be settled in their sex by her.