102 THE POEMS OF ANNE ���TO MR. PRIOR FROM A LADY UNKNOWN �The Nymph whose Virgin-heart thy charms have taught �To cherish Love, with secret wishes fraught, �Reserv'd at first, endeavours to conceal �What She had rather die than not reveal, �No fears the Love-sick Maid can long restrain, �None read Thy verse, or hear Thee speak in vain. �Thy melting Numbers, and polite Address, �In ev'ry Fair raise passion to excess. �In either sex You never fail, we find, �To cultivate the heart, or charm the mind, �In raptures lost. I fear not your disdain, �But own I languish to possess your vein. �As a fond bird, pleas'd with the teacher's note, �Expends his life to raise his mimic throat, �His little art, exerting all he can, �Charm'd with the tune, to imitate the man: �Rudely he chants, yet labours not in vain, �By wild essays just so much song to gain, �As tempts his master to renew the strain. �Such is my verse, with equal zeal I burn, �Too happy, shou'd I meet the same return. �THE ANSWER [To Pope's Impromptu] �Disarm' d with so genteel an air, �The contest I give o'er; Yet, Alexander, have a care, �And shock the sex no more. We rule the world our life's whole race, �Men but assume that right ; First slaves to ev'ry tempting face, ��� �
