55 



Long-haired and eared apostles of the cause 

 Support the fair, and bray out their applause. 

 In vision, now, she feels herself a Sen tor, 

 On rostrum placed, and blows like any Stentor. 

 Still, still at Man her mimic thunder hurls, 

 Shakes out bad logic and her corkscrew curls. 

 Pray, good Miss Grim, what is the matter ? 

 Why all this gall, why all this ceaseless clatter? 

 Why rail at Man, why, so irate palaver ? 

 The reason s plain she gets no man to have her. 

 O Cytherea ! come thou to our aid, 

 And rid us of this ancient, unsexed maid ; 

 Nor let her, longer, for a fitting mate, 

 Be clamoring, in such abnormal state 

 If for her Jack, each Jill may justly call, 

 Send now her Jack and turn to milk her gall 

 And, Goddess ! when her luckless Jackie s found, 

 Grant ! grant ! that he may keep her gagged and 

 bound \ 



Affairs of State, here, draw a motley crew 

 Of sharper, ruffian, rogue of every hue ; 

 Pickpockets sly, and pauper politicians, 

 Ready, in any way, to better their conditions. 

 The hired bully here seeks game to bruise on, 



