Vanessa, not in years a score, Dreams of a gown of forty-four; Imaginary charms can find, In eyes with reading almost blind; Cadenus now no more appears Declined in health, advanced in years. She fancies music in his tongue, Nor farther looks, but thinks him young. What mariner is not afraid To venture in a ship decayed? What planter will attempt to yoke A sapling with a falling oak? As years increase, she brighter shines, Cadenus with each day declines, And he must fall a prey to Time, While she continues in her prime. Cadenus, common forms apart, In every scene had kept his heart; Had sighed and languished, vowed and writ, For pastime, or to show his wit; But time, and books, and State affairs, Had spoiled his fashionable airs, He now could praise, esteem, approve, But understood not what was love. His conduct might have made him styled A father, and the nymph his child. That innocent delight he took To see the virgin mind her book, Was but the master's secret joy In school to hear the finest boy. Her knowledge with her fancy grew, She hourly pressed for something new; Ideas came into her mind So fact, his lessons lagged behind; She reasoned, without plodding long, Nor ever gave her judgment wrong. But now a sudden change was wrought, She minds no longer what he taught. Cadenus was amazed to find Such marks of a distracted mind; For though she seemed to listen more To all he spoke, than e'er before. He found her thoughts would absent range, Yet guessed not whence could spring the change. And first he modestly conjectures, His pupil might be tired with lectures, Which helped to mortify his pride, Yet gave him not the heart to chide; But in a mild dejected strain, At last he ventured to complain: Said, she should be no longer teased, Might have her freedom when she pleased; Was now convinced he acted wrong, To hide her from the world so long, And in dull studies to engage One of her tender sex and age. That every nymph with envy owned, How she might shine in the _Grande-Monde_, And every shepherd was undone, To see her cloistered like a nun. This was a visionary scheme, He waked, and found it but a dream; A project far above his skill, For Nature must be Nature still. If she was bolder than became A scholar to a courtly dame, She might excuse a man of letters; Thus tutors often treat their betters, And since his talk offensive grew, He came to take his last adieu. Vanessa, filled with just disdain, Would still her dignity maintain, Instructed from her early years To scorn the art of female tears.