“O barbarous clime! where Beauty borrows aid
From eloquence to charm or to perſuade!
Will Diſcord never leave, with envious Care,
To raiſe debate? But Diſcord governs here.10
To Juno Pallas wiſdom, fame, and pow’r,
Long ſince preferr’d, what trial needs there more?
Confeſs’d to fight, three goddeſſes deſcend
On Ida’s hill, and for a prize contend;
Nobly they bid, and laviſhly purſue15
A gift that only could be Beauty’s due.
Honours and wealth the gen’rous judge denies,
And gives the triumph to the brighteſt eyes.
Such precedents are numberleſs: we draw
Our right from cuſtom; cuſtom is a law:20
As high as heav’n, as wide as ſeas or land,
As ancient as the world, is our command.
Mars and Alcides would this plea allow;
Beauty was ever abſolute till now.
It is enough that I pronounce it mine,25
And, right or wrong, he ſhould his claim reſign.
Not bears nor tigers ſure ſo ſavage are
As theſe ill-manner’d monſters of the bar.
“Loud Rumour has proclaim’d a nymph divine,[1]
Whoſe matchleſs form, to counterbalance mine,30
- ↑ A report ſpread of a beantisul young lady, niece to the Lord Chief Juſtice, who would appear at the bar of the Houſe of Lords, and eclipſe the charms of the Ducheſs of Grafton. No ſuch lady was ſeen there, nor perhaps ever in any part of the world.
