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An expiation for her mother's pride ?
Is't not enough, that unconcern'd you see
(Vain witnesses for truth, for faith, for me,)
Such an affront put on divinity,
Yet no revenge the daring crime pursue,
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But the deceiv'd must be her victim too?
Either the gods are empty notions, crept
Into the minds of sleepers as they slept,
In vain are fear'd, are but the tricks of law,
To keep the foolish cred'lous world in awe;
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Or, if there be a god, he loves the fair,
And all things at their sole disposal are.
For us are all the instruments of war
Design'd, the sword of Mars, and Pallas' spear;
'Gainst us alone Apollo's bows are bent,
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And at our hands Jove's brandish'd thunder sent.
Yet of the ladies, oh ! how fond are they !
Dare not the inj'ries they receive, repay,
But those who ought to fear them they obey.
Jove to his votaries is most severe;
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