OO long has Man, engroffing ev'ry art,
Dar'd to reject the Female's rightful part;
As if to him, alone, had been confin'd,
Heav'n's greatest gift, a scientifick mind.
The rougher arts, 'tis true, men juftly claim
But let the fmooth and tranquil paths to fame,
Which ask not strength of body, but of mind,
Be, as the foul, to neither fex confin'd.
For tho' fometimes, the fair might easy prove,
Females have well in noblest conflicts strove;
As when Eliza Britain's fceptre sway'd,
And the aw'd world admir'd the matchlefs maid;
Yet willingly to man the palm they yield,
From throne and fceptre, to the sword and shield:
But in thofe arts which humanize the mind,
They boaft an equal pow'r with all mankind.
When fome lov'd fair-one tunes the vocal lay,
And the rapt foul with pleasure melts away;
Or, as she raises high th' enchanting strain,
Cecilia feems return'd to earth again,
While o'er the magick keys her fingers trace
The founds celestial of th' immortal race;