Felt wrath for trifles, and were proud to feel, Now find those trifles all the mind engage, To soothe dull hours, and cheat the cares of age; As young Zelinda, in her quaker-dress, 220 Disdain’d each varying fashion’s vile excess, And now her friends on old Zelinda gaze, Pleased in rich silks and orient gems to blaze. Changes like these ’tis folly to condemn, So virtue yields not, nor is changed with them. Let us proceed:--Twelve brilliant years were past, Yet each with less of glory than the last; Whether these years to this fair virgin gave A softer mind--effect they often have; Whether the virgin-state was not so bless’d 230 As that good maiden in her zeal profess’d; Or whether lovers falling from her train, Gave greater price to those she could retain, Is all unknown;--but Arabella now Was kindly listening to a merchant’s vow; Who offer’d terms so fair, against his love To strive was folly; so she never strove.-- Man in his earlier days we often find With a too easy and unguarded mind; But, by increasing years and prudence taught, 240 He grows reserved, and locks up every thought. Not thus the maiden, for in blooming youth She hides her thought, and guards the tender truth; This, when no longer young, no more she hides, But frankly in the favour’d swain confides. Man, stubborn man, is like the growing tree, That longer standing, still will harder be; And like its fruit the virgin, first austere, Then kindly softening with the ripening year. Now was the lover urgent, and the kind 250 And yielding lady to his suit inclined: “A little time, my friend, is just, is right; We must be decent in our neighbours’ sight:” Still she allow’d him of his hopes to speak, And in compassion took off week by week; Till few remain’d, when, wearied with delay, She kindly meant to take off day by day. That female friend who gave our virgin praise For flying man and all his treacherous ways, Now heard with mingled anger, shame and fear, 260 Of one accepted, and a wedding near; But she resolved again with friendly zeal To make the maid her scorn of wedlock feel; For she was grieved to find her work undone, And like a sister mourn’d the failing nun. Why are these gentle maidens prone to make Their sister-doves the tempting world forsake? Why all their triumph when a maid disdains The tyrant-sex, and scorns to wear its chains? Is it pure joy to see a sister flown 270 From the false pleasures they themselves have known? Or do they, as the call-birds in the cage, Try, in pure envy, others to engage; And therefore paint their native woods and groves, As scenes of dangerous joys and naughty loves?