'Twas thy brave method to despise contempt,
And make what was the fault the punishment,
What more assaults could weak detraction raise,
When thou couldst saint disgrace,
And turn reproach to praise.
So clouds which would obscure the sun, oft gilded be,
And shades are taught to shine as bright as he;
So diamonds, when envious night
Would shroud their splendour, look most bright,
And from its darkness seem to borrow light.
26
Free from contagion as thy soul or fame:
Could virtue been but proof against death's arms,
Thou hadst stood unvanquished by these harms,
Safe in a circle made by thy own charms.
Fond pleasure, whose soft magic oft beguiles
Raw inexperienced souls,
And with smooth flattery cajoles,
Could ne'er ensnare thee with her wiles,
Or make thee captive to her soothing smiles.
In vain that pimp of vice essayed to please,
In hope to draw thee to its rude embrace.
Thy prudence still that syren past
Without being pinioned to the mast :
All its attempts were ineffectual found;
Heaven fenced thy heart with its own mound.
And forced the tempter still from that forbidden ground.
27
Could ne'er in the same frenzy thee engage;
But moved thee rather with a generous rage.
Gallants, who their high breeding prize,
Known only by their gallanture and vice,
Whose talent is to court a fashionable sin,
And act some fine transgression with a jaunty mien,
May by such methods hope the vogue to win.
