She doubted not but such a dame Through every breast would dart a flame, That every rich and lordly swain With pride would drag about her chain; That scholars would forsake their books, To study bright Vanessa's looks; As she advanced, that womankind Would by her model form their mind, And all their conduct would be tried By her, as an unerring guide; Offending daughters oft would hear Vanessa's praise rung in their ear: Miss Betty, when she does a fault, Lets fall her knife, or spills the salt, Will thus be by her mother chid, "’Tis what Vanessa never did!" Thus by the nymphs and swains adored, My power shall be again restored, And happy lovers bless my reign-- So Venus hoped, but hoped in vain. For when in time the Martial Maid Found out the trick that Venus play'd, She shakes her helm, she knits her brows, And, fired with indignation, vows, To-morrow, ere the setting sun, She'd all undo that she had done. But in the poets we may find A wholesome law, time out of mind, Had been confirm'd by Fate's decree, That gods, of whatsoe'er degree, Resume not what themselves have given, Or any brother god in Heaven: Which keeps the peace among the gods, Or they must always be at odds: And Pallas, if she broke the laws, Must yield her foe the stronger cause; A shame to one so much adored For wisdom at Jove's council-board. Besides, she fear'd the Queen of Love Would meet with better friends above. And though she must with grief reflect, To see a mortal virgin deck'd With graces hitherto unknown To female breasts, except her own: Yet she would act as best became A goddess of unspotted fame. She knew, by augury divine, Venus would fail in her design: She studied well the point, and found Her foe's conclusions were not sound, From premises erroneous brought, And therefore the deduction's naught, And must have contrary effects, To what her treacherous foe expects. In proper season Pallas meets The Queen of Love, whom thus she greets, (For gods, we are by Homer told, Can in celestial language scold:)-- Perfidious goddess! but in vain You form'd this project in your brain; A project for your talents fit, With much deceit and little wit. Thou hast, as thou shall quickly see, Deceived thyself, instead of me; For how can heavenly wisdom prove An instrument to earthly love? Know'st thou not yet, that men commence Thy votaries for want of sense? Nor shall Vanessa be the theme To manage thy abortive scheme: She'll prove the greatest of thy foes; And yet I scorn to interpose, But, using neither skill nor force, Leave all things to their natural course. The goddess thus pronounced her doom: When, lo! Vanessa in her bloom Advanced, like Atalanta's star, But rarely seen, and seen from far: In a new world with caution slept, Watch'd all the company she kept, Well knowing, from the books she read, What dangerous paths young virgins tread: Would seldom at the Park appear, Nor saw the play-house twice a year; Yet, not incurious, was inclined