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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


A PINDARICK, TO THE ATHENIAN SOCIETY by ELIZABETH SINGER

First Line: I'VE TOUCHT EACH STRING, EACH MUSE I HAVE INVOK'T
Last Line: A FEMALE BREAST DID NE'RE BEFORE COMMENCE.
Subject(s): DEATH; FATE; SOUL; DEAD, THE; DESTINY;

I

I've toucht @3each string@1, each muse I have invok't,
Yet still the mighty theam,
Copes my unequal praise;
Perhaps, the @3God of Numbers@1 is provok't.
I grasp a Subject fit for none but him,
Or @3Drydens@1 sweeter lays;
@3Dryden@1! A name I ne're could yet rehearse,
But straight my thoughts @3were all transform'd to verse@1.

II

And now methinks I rise;
But still the @3lofty subject@1 baulks my flight,
And still my @3muse@1 despairs to do great @3Athens@1 right;
Yet take the @3Zealous Tribute@1 which I bring,
The early products of a Female muse;
Until @3the God@1, into my breast shall @3mightier thoughts@1 infuse.
When I with more Command, and @3prouder voice@1 shall sing;
But how shall I describe the matchless men?
I'me lost in the @3bright labirinth@1 agen.

III

When the @3lewd age@1, as Ignorant as accurst,
Arriv'd in vice and error to the worst,
And like @3Astrea@1 banisht from the stage,
Virtue and Truth were ready @3stretcht for flight@1;
Their numerous foes,
Scarce one of eithers Champions ventur'd to oppose;
Scarce one @3brave mind@1, durst openly engage,
To do them right.
Till prompted with a Generous rage;
You cop't with all th' abuses of the age;
Unmaskt and @3challeng'd@1 its abhorred crimes,
Nor fear'd to @3lash@1 the darling vices of the times.

IV

@3Successfully go on@1,
T' inform and bless mankind as you've begun,
Till like your selves they see;
The frantick world's imagin'd Joys to be,
@3Unmanly, sensual and effemenate@1,
Till they with such exalted thoughts possest;
As you've inspir'd into my @3willing Breast@1,
Are @3charm'd@1, like me, from the impending fate.

V

For ah! @3Forgive me Heaven@1, I blush to say't,
I with the vulgar world thought @3Irreligion great,
Tho fine my breeding, and my Notions high;@1
Tho train'd in the @3bright@1 tracts of strictest piety,
I' like my @3splendid tempters@1 soon grew vain,
@3And laid my slighted innocense aside@1;
Yet oft my nobler thoughts I have bely'd,
And to be ill was @3even reduc'd to feign@1.

VI

Until by you,
With more Heroick sentiments inspir'd,
I turn'd and @3stood@1 the vigorous torrent too,
And at my former @3weak retreat admir'd@1;
So much was I by your @3example fir'd@1,
So much the @3heavenly form@1 did win:
Which to my eyes @3you'd painted vertue in@1.

VII

Oh, could my verse;
With @3equal flights@1, to after times rehearse,
Your @3fame@1: It should as bright and Death-less be;
@3As that immortal flame you've rais'd in me.@1
A flame which time:
And Death it self, wants power to controul,
Not more sublime,
Is the @3divine composure of my Soul@1;
A friendship so exalted and immense,
A @3female breast@1 did ne're before commence.



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