The mind's soft guardian, who, though yet unsung,
Inspires with harmony the female tongue,
And gives, improving every tender grace,
The smile of angels to a mortal face;
Her powers I sing; and scenes of mental strife,
Which form the maiden for th' accomplished wife;
Where the sweet victor sees, with sparkling eyes,
Love her reward, and happiness her prize.
Daughters of beauty, and happiness her prize,
To your enchanting notes attune my lyre!
And oh! if haply your soft hearts may gain
Or use o pleasure from the motley strain,
Though formal critics, with surly frown,
Deny your artless bard the laurel crown,
He still shall triumph, if ye deign to spread
Your sweeter myrtle round his honour'd head.

In your bright circle young Serena grew;
A lovelier nymph the pencil never drew;
For the fond Graces form'd her easy mien,
And heaven's soft azure in her eye was seen.
She seem'd a rose-bud, when it first receives
The genial sun in its expanding leaves;
For now she enter'd those important years,
When the full bosom swells with hopes and fears;
When conscious nature prompts the secret sigh,
And sheds sweet languor o'er the melting eye;
When nobler toys the female heart trepan,
And dolls, rejected, yield their place to man.

Beneath a father's care Serena grew;
The good Sir Gilbert, to his country true,
A faithful Whig, who, zealous for the state,
In freedom's service led the loud debate;
Yet every day, by transmutation rare,
Turn'd to a Tory in his elbow-chair,
And made his daughter pay, howe'er absurd,
Passive obedience to his sovereign word.

In his domestic sway he borrow'd aid,
From prim Penelope, an ancient maid,
His upright sister, conscious of her worth,
Who valued still her beauty, and her birth;
Though from her birth no envied rank she gain'd,
And of her beauty but the ghost remain'd;
A restless ghost! that with remembrance keen
Proclaim'd incessant what it once had been;
Delighted still the steps of youth to haunt,
To watch the tender nymph, and warm gallant;
And, with an eye that petrified pursuit,
Hang, like the dragon, o'er th' Hesperian fruit.

Though strictly guarded by this jealous power,
The mild Serena no restraint could sour:
Pure was her bosom as the silver lake,
Ere rising winds the ruffled water shake.
When the bright pageants of the morning sky
Across th' expansive mirror lightly fly,
By vernal gales in quick succession driven,
While the clear glass reflects the smile of heaven.
In gay content a sportive life she led,
The child of Modesty, by Virtue bred;
Her light companions Innocence and Ease;
Her hope was pleasure, and her wish to please:
For this to Fashion early rites she paid;
For this to Nature secret vows she made;
Nor held it sin to cast a private glance
O'er the dear pages of a new romance,
Eager in fiction's touching scenes to find
A field, to exercise her active mind:
The touching scenes new energy impress'd
On all the virtues of her feeling breast.
Sweet Evelina's fascinating power
Had first beguiled of sleep her midnight hour;
Possess'd by Sympathy's enchanting sway,
She read, unconscious of the dawning day
'Man as he is' her gentle heart alarm'd;
His troubles grieved her, but his spirit charm'd.
The generous Paradyne had faults, she own'd,
But sweet contrition for those faults atoned:
In her pure thought it gave him such a grace,
He seem'd a model for the human race.
Hermsprong arose; his rivals all declined;
He sway'd, with sweet ascendency, her mind;
His savage virtues grew supremely dear,
Gracefully frank, and amiably austere;
Soon for the hero of her heart she chose
This bright reverse of fashionable beaux,
And, though a pattern of ideal truth,
Hoped the wide world might yield her such a youth.
The Modern Anecdote was next convey'd
Beneath her pillow by her faithful maid.
The nymph attentive as the brooding dove,
Pored o'er the tender scenes of Franzel's love;
The sinking taper now grew weak and pale;
Serena sigh'd, and dropp'd the unfinish'd tale:
But, as warm clouds in vernal aether roll,
The soft ideas floated in her soul:
Free from ambitious pride, and envious care
To love, and to be loved, was all her prayer:
While these fond thoughts her gentle mind possess'd,
Soft slumber settled on her snowy breast.

Scarce had her radiant eyes begun to close,
When to her view a friendly vision rose;
A fairy phantom struck her mental sight,
Light as the gossamer, as aether bright;
Array'd like Pallas was the pigmy form,
When the sage goddess stills the martial storm:
Her casque was amber, richly graced above
With down, collected from the callow dove:
Her burnish'd breast-plate of a deeper dye,
Was once the armour of a golden fly.
A lynx's eye her little aegis shone,
By fairy spells converted into stone,
And worn of old, as elfin poets sing,
By Egypt's lovely queen, a favourite ring:
Mysterious power was in the magic toy,
To turn the frowns of care to smiles of joy.
Her tiny lance, whose radiance stream'd afar,
Was one bright sparkle from the bridal star,
A filmy mantle round her figure play'd,
Fine as the texture by Arachne laid
O'er some young plant, when glittering to the view
With many an orient pearl of morning dew.
The phantom hover'd o'er the conscious fair
With such a lively smile of tender care,
As on her elfin lord Titania cast,
When first she found his angry spell was past:
Round her rich locks Serena chanced to tie
An ample ribband of coerulean dye;
High o'er her forehead rose the graceful bow,
Whose arch commanded the sweet scene below:
The hovering spirit view'd the tempting spot,
And lightly perch'd on this unbending knot;
As the fair flutterer of Psyche's race,
Is seen to terminate her airy chase,
When, pleased at length her quivering wings to close,
Fondly she settles on the fragrant rose.

Now in soft notes, more musically clear
Than ever fairy breathed in mortal ear,
These words the visionary voice convey'd
To the charm'd spirit of the sleeping maid:
'Thou darling of my care! whose ripen'd worth
Shall spread my empire o'er the smiling earth;
Whom nature bless'd, forbidding modish art,
To cramp thy spirit, or contract thy heart;
Screen'd from thy thought, nor in thy visions felt,
Long on thy opening mind I fondly dwelt;
In childhood's sorrows brought thee quick relief,
And dried thy April showers of infant grief;
Taught thee to laugh at the malicious boy,
Who broke thy playthings with a barb'rous joy,
To bear what ills the little female haunt,
The testy nurse, th' imperious governante,
And that tyrannic pest, the prying maiden aunt.
Now ripening years a nobler scene supply;
For life now opens on thy sparkling eye:
Thy rising bosom swells with just desire
Rapture to feel, and rapture to inspire;
Not the vain bliss, the transitory joys,
That childish woman feels in radiant toys;
The costly diamond, or the lighter pearl,
The massive Nabob, or the tinsel Earl.
Thy heart demands, each meaner aim above,
The imperishable wealth of sterling love;
Thy wish, to please by every softer grace
Of elegance and ease, of form and face!
By lively fancy and by sense refined,
The stronger magic of the cultured mind!
Thy pure ambition, and thy virtuous plan,
To fix the variable heart of man:
The slave of falsehood from her snare dismiss,
And build on truth his glory and his bliss!
Short is the worship paid at beauty's shrine;
But lasting love, and happiness are mine;
Mine, though this earth's mistaken, blinded race,
Despise my guardian aid, my name debase;
Nor breathe one vow to that aethereal friend,
On whom the colours of their life depend.
But to thy innocence I now display
The mystic marvels of my secret sway;
And tell, in this thy fate-deciding hour,
My race, my name, my office, and my power.

'First, hear what wonders human forms contain!
And learn the texture of the female brain!
By nature's care in curious order spread,
This living net is framed of tender thread;
Fine as thy hand, some favour'd youth to grace,
Knits with nice art to form the mimic lace,
Within the centre of this fretted dome,
Her secret tower! her heaven-constructed home!
Soft sensibility, sweet beauty's soul!
Keeps her coy state, and animates the whole,
Invisible as harmony, who springs,
Waked by young zephyr, from AEolian strings:
Her subtle power, more delicately fine,
Dwells in each thread and lives in every line,
Whose quick vibrations, without end, impart
Pleasure and pain to the responsive heart.
As zephyrs breath the willing chord inspires,
Whispering soft music to the trembling wires,
So, with fond care, I regulate, unseen,
The softer movements of this nice machine;
Temper, my earthly name, the nurse of Love!
But call'd Sophrosyne in realms above!
When lovely woman, perfect at her birth,
Bless'd with her early charms the wondering earth,
Her soul, in sweet simplicity array'd,
Nor shared my guidance, nor required my aid.
Her tender frame, nor confident nor coy,
Had every fibre tuned to gentle joy:
No vain caprices swell'd her pouting lip;
No gold produced a mercenary trip;
Soft innocence inspired her willing kiss,
Her love was nature, and her life was bliss.
Guide of his reason, not his passion's prey,
She tamed the savage, man! who bless'd her sway.
No jarring wishes fill'd the world with woes,
But youth was ecstasy, and age repose.

'The powers of Mischief met in dark divan,
To blast these mighty joys of envied man;
The fiends, at their infernal leader's call,
Framed their base wiles in Demogorgon's hall,
In the deep centre of that dreadful dome,
A hellish cauldron boil'd with fiery foam:
In this wide urn the circling spirits threw
Ingredients harsh, and hideous to the view;
While the terrific master of the spell
With adjurations shook the depths of Hell,
And in dark words unmeet for mortal ear,
Bade the dire offspring of his art appear:
Forth from the vase, with sullen murmurs, broke
A towering mass of pestilential smoke:
Emerging from the fog of thickest night,
A phantom swells, by slow degrees, to sight;
But ere the view can seize the forming shape,
From the mock'd eye its lineaments escape:
It seem'd all passions melted into one,
Assumed the fare of all, and yet was none:
Hell stood aghast at his portentous mien,
And shuddering demons call'd the spectre, Spleen,
'Hie thee to the earth!' its mighty master cried,
'O'er the vex'd globe in heavy vapours ride!
Within its centre fix thy shadowy throne!
With shades thy subjects, and that hell thy own!
Reign there unseen! but let thy strong control
Be hourly felt in woman's wayward soul!
With darkest poisons from our deep abyss,
Taint that pure source of sublunary bliss!'
Th' enormous phantom, at this potent sound,
Roll'd forth obedient from the vast profound:
The quaking fiends recover'd from their dread,
And Hell grew lighter as the monster fled.
But now round earth the gliding vapours run,
Blot the rich aether, and eclipse the sun;
All nature sickens; and her fairest flower,
Enchanting woman! feels the baneful power.
As in her soul the clouds of Spleen arise,
The sprightly essence of her beauty flies:
In youth's gay prime, in hours with rapture warm,
Love looks astonish'd on her altering form:
To pleasing frolics, and enchanting wiles,
Life-darting looks, and soul-subduing smiles,
Dark whims succeed: thick-coming fancies fret;
The sullen passion, and the hasty pet;
The swelling lip, the tear-distended eye,
The peevish question, the perverse reply;
The moody humour, that like rain and fire
Blends cold disgust with unsubdued desire
Flies what it loves, and petulantly coy,
Feigns proud abhorrence of the proffer'd joy.
For nature's artless aim, the wish to please
By genuine modesty, and simple ease,
Fashion's pert tricks the crowded brain oppress
With all the poor parade of tawdry dress:
The sickly bosom pants for noise and show,
For every bauble, and for every beau:
The voice, that health made harmony, disowns
That native charm for languor's mimic tones
And feigns disease, till, feeling what it feigns,
Its fancied maladies are real pains.
Such and a thousand still superior woes,
From Spleen's new empire o'er the earth arose
Each simple dictate of the soul forgot,
Then first was form'd the mercenary plot;
Then beauty practised the pernicious art,
Of angling slyly for an old man's heart;
And for his want of spirit, sense, and health,
Sought compensation in the arms of wealth.
From sex to sex the base contagion ran,
And gold grew beauty in the mind of man;
Courtship was traffic: and the married life
But one loud jangle of incessant strife.

'The gentle spirit, who on his radiant car,
Shines the mild regent of the evening star,
And joys from thence those genial rays to shed,
That lead the bridegroom to the nuptial bed,
While earth's new ills his friendly soul absorb,
From Cynthia call'd me to his kindred orb,
And, eager to redress the woes of man,
The brilliant son of Vesper thus began.
'Thou softest being of th' aetheral kind,
Be thy benignant cares no more confined
To smooth the ruffled plume of zephyr's wing,
To guard from cruel frost the infant spring,
To drive gross atoms from the rays of noon,
Or chase the halo from the vapourish moon!
Thy friendly nature will not now deny
To quit for nobler toils thy native sky;
Thou seest how Spleen's infernal vapours roll
Across the sweet serene of woman's soul;
And earth, which darkens as her beauties fade,
Must grow a second hell without thy aid:
Take then thy station! fix thy nobler reign
O'er those fine chords that form the female brain
That used, ere injured by the rust of Spleen,
To fill with harmony the human scene!
Go! lest her touch their tender tones destroy,
Teach them to vibrate to thy notes of joy!
Go! and restore, by stilling mental strife,
Health to faint love, and happiness to life!'
So spake that friend of man, who lights above
His heavenly lamp of Hymeneal love:
In his just aim my kindred spirit join'd,
And flew obedient to the charge assign'd.
Hence, as the bias sways th' unconscious bowl,
I long unseen have sway'd the careless soul.
Though oft I feel my power by Spleen subdued,
In the shrill vixen, and the sullen prude,
In some fair forms my soft dominion grows,
Like fragrance rising from the opening rose;
Still I perceive in many a lovely face,
That gay good humour, and that constant grace,
Which heavenly powers united to infold
In perfect woman's new-created mould;
When Nature, in her infant beauty bless'd,
The last, and loveliest of her works caress'd.
But of those nymphs, who delicately fair,
Draw soft attractions from my forming care,
My young Serena shines her peers above,
Pride of my hopes! and darling of my love!
Hence I to thee such mysteries unfold,
As man's pedantic eye shall ne'er behold;
Whose narrow science, though it proudly boast
To pierce the sky, and count the starry host,
Sees not the lucid band of airy powers,
Who flutter round him in his secret hours;
But if to me, thy guardian now display'd,
Thy duteous orisons are justly paid,
Thou to those realms shalt pass, with me thy guide,
Where Spleen's pale victims, after death reside;
Then to that orb in vision shalt thou rise,
(Not seen by mortal astronomic eyes,
Not e'en by Herschell, whose angelic ken
Finds a mute star, and bids it speak to men)
Where I - but first let me thy soul prepare
To meet our secret foe's insidious snare!
To live untouch'd by subtle Spleen requires
The ceaseless care of disciplined desires.
'Tis my fond purpose in thy form to show
The sweetest model of my skill below:
A youth I destine to thy dear embrace,
Crown'd with each mental charm, and manly grace,
With whom thy innocence, secure from strife,
Shall reach the beauteous joys of blameless life.
Pleased I observe thy little heart begin
To ask, what charms the mighty prize may win:
But now, though Elegance herself be seen
To guide thy motion, and to form thy mien;
Though Beauty o'er thy filial cheek diffuse
The soft enchantment of her roseate hues,
Not from their favour shall this glory rise.
Temper shall singly gain the splendid prize:
The sudden conquest shall be mine alone,
And love with transport shall my triumph own,
Such are my hopes, but I with pain relate,
What hard conditions are annex'd by fate:
As chemic fires, that patient labour blows,
Draw the rich perfume from the Persian rose,
So must thou form, by fiery toils refined,
The living essence of thy sweeter mind.
Dimly I see, on Destiny's dull glass,
Three dangerous trials 'tis thy doom to pass;
And, oh! if once forgetful of my power,
Good humour fail the in the fateful hour,
Farewell those joys that wait the happy wife!
Farewell the vision of unclouded life!

'Fain would my love thy secret perils show,
Which fate allows not even me to know:
In Spleen's dark court a thousand agents dwell,
Who bind their victims in the wayward spell!
Perchance three prime supporters of her sway,
The busiest of her fiends! may cross thy way:
Stern Contradiction, her ill-favour'd child!
Of fierce demeanor, and of spirit wild,
Bane of delight! and horror of the sex!
His plan to puzzle, and his pride to vex! -
Or Scandal! filthy hag! who blindly limps
Round the wide earth supported by her imps,
Her inky demons, who delight to print
Her base suggestion, and her envious hint : -
Or groundless Jealousy, pert changeling born!
Or armorous Vanity, and angry Scorn!
Whose bitter taunts with public insult dare
Basely to wound the unoffending fair;
Proud the sweet joys of innocence to crush,
And spread o'er Beauty's cheek the burning blush.
Whether these kindred fiends, or one, or all,
Shall aim thy early spirit to inthral,
Are points, my fondness tries in vain to reach;
But trust my caution! and beware of each!

'Lest to thy lively mind my words may seem
The vain chimera of a common dream,
By one unquestionable sign be taught
To prize my presence in thy waking thought;
An azure ribband, on thy toilet thrown,
Shall make the magic of my empire known:
On this thy sportive needle tried its powers,
And silver spangles form'd the mimic flowers;
On these my love shall breathe a secret charm;
With this, my cestus! thy soft bosom arm!
Above it let the decent tucker rise,
To hide the mystic band from mortal eyes!
When Spleen's dark powers would teach that breast to swell,
This guardian cincture shall those powers repel:
As the touch'd talisman more swift than thought,
To save her charge th' Arabian fairy brought,
So shall this zone, if my command's obey'd,
Bring my quick spirit to thy certain aid.
In love's great name observe this high behest!
Revere my power! - Be gentle, and be bless'd!'

Here the kind sprite her friendly counsel closed,
And lightly vanish'd - still Serena dozed;
Still in sweet trance she fondly seem'd to hear
The soft persuasion vibrate in her ear.
But waking now far different notes she found;
Less pleasing echoes in her chamber sound:
For now the heralds of the London day
Sing their loud matins in th' uncrowded way;
Th' impatient milk-maid now, with early din,
Screams to the rattle of her pail of tin;
With sweep's faint cry, and latest of the crew,
The deep-toned music of the murmuring Jew.