In vain, Orinda on my Aid,
And weaker Judgment you rely;
Too rashly Fair--one, you perswade
A Mortal to correct the Sky.

To me, like Phaeton of old,
A dangerous Province you resign,
Which I, like him unskill'd, and bold,
Accept, and mimick Pow'r divine.

Without my Help the Soul to warm
With Love, still happily proceed,
Bid other Leonora's charm,
And other Villains justly bleed--

Whilst party--mad the British--Fair,
On Monarch Jemmy set their Hearts,
Despise the peaceful House--wife's Care,
And practise their seditious Arts.

Whilst they with Lies revile the Throne,
And with Church Fears their Minds perplex,
Their Follies singly you attone,
And singly you redeem the Sex.