Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FEMINEAD: FEMALES, SACRED AND PROFANE, by JOHN DUNCOMBE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FEMINEAD: FEMALES, SACRED AND PROFANE, by                    
First Line: The modest muse a veil with pity throws
Last Line: Your empty sneers, and shock the sex no more.
Subject(s): Earth; Sacrifices; Women's Rights; World; Feminism


THE modest Muse a veil with pity throws
O'er Vice's friends, and Virtue's female foes;
Abash'd she views the bold unblushing mien
Of modern MANLEY, CENTLIVRE, and BEHN;
And grieves to see one nobly born disgrace
Her modest sex, and her illustrious race.
Tho' harmony thro' all their numbers flow'd,
And genuine wit its every grace bestow'd,
Nor genuine wit, nor harmony, excuse
The dangerous sallies of a wanton Muse:
Nor can such tuneful, but immoral, lays
Expect the tribute of impartial praise:
As soon might PHILIPS, PILKINGTON, and VANE,
Deserv'd applause for spotless virtue gain.
But hark! what Nymph, in Frome's embroidered Vale,
With strains seraphic swells the vernal gale?
With what sweet sounds the bordering forest rings?
For sportive Echo catches, as she sings,
Each falling accent, studious to prolong
The warbled notes of ROWE'S ecstatic song.
Old Avon pleas'd his reedy forehead rears,
And polish'd ORRERY delighted hears.
See with what transport she resigns her breath,
Snatch'd by a sudden, but a wish'd-for death!
Releas'd from earth, with smiles she soars on high
Amidst her kindred spirits of the sky,
Where faith and love those endless joys bestow,
That warm'd her lays, and fill'd her hopes below.
Nor can her noble Friend escape unseen,
Or from the Muse her modest virtues screen;
How, sweetly blended, to our wondering eyes,
The peeress, poetess, and Christian rise:
And tho' the Nine her tuneful strains inspire,
We less her genius, than her heart, admire,
Pleas'd, 'midst the great, one truly good to see,
And proud to tell that SOMERSET is she.
By generous views one Peeress more demands
A grateful tribute from all female hands;
One, who to shield them from the worst of foes,
In their just cause dar'd Pope himself oppose.
Their own dark forms deceit and envy wear,
By IRWIN touch'd with Truth's celestial spear,
By her disarm'd, ye witlings! now give o'er
Your empty sneers, and shock the sex no more.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net