But, _Nymphs_ and _Swains_, your hopes are all in vain, For such bright _Eyes_, and such a tunefull _Pen_. How many of her Sex spend half their days, To catch some _Fool_ by managing a Face? But she secure of _charming_ has confin’d Her wiser care t’.adorn_ and _dress_ the Mind. _Beauty_ may fade, but everlasting _Verse_ Exempts the better portion from the _Hearse_. The matchless _Wit_ and _Fancy_ of the Fair, Which moves our _envy_ and our Sons _despair_. Long they shall live a _monument_ of her _Fame_, And to _Eternity_ extend her _Name_; While After-times deservedly approve The choicest object of this Ages Love. For when they reade, ghessing how far she charm’d, With that bright _Body_ with such _Wit_ inform’d; They will give _heed_ and _credit_ to our Verse, When we the _Wonders_ of her _Face_ rehearse. _J. Cooper._ _Buckden, Nov._ 25. 1683. _To_ ASTRÆA, _on her Poems_. ‘Tis not enough to reade and to admire, } Thy sacred Verse does nobler thoughts inspire, } Striking on every breast Poetick fire: } The God of Wit attends with chearfull Rays, Warming the dullest Statue into praise. Hail then, delight of Heaven and pride of Earth, Blest by each Muse at thy auspicious birth; Soft Love and Majesty have fram’d thy Mind, To shew the Beauties of both Sexes join’d: Thy Lines may challenge, like young _David’s_ face, A Female Sweetness and a Manly Grace; Thy tender notions in loose numbers flow, With a strange power to charm where e’er they go: And when in stronger sounds thy voice we hear, At all the skilfull points you arm’d appear. Which way so’er thou dost thy self express, We find thy Beauty out in every dress; Such work so gently wrought, so strongly fine, Cannot be wrought by hands all Masculine. In vain proud Man weak Woman wou’d controul, No Man can argue now against a Woman’s Soul. _J. C._ _To the excellent Madam_ Behn, _on her Poems_.