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With Gen'rous Rage inflames th' aspiring Muse,
And warns her Now a loftier Theme to chuse:
The God prescribes the Object of my Praise,
And what the God directs, the Bard obeys.
And warns her Now a loftier Theme to chuse:
The God prescribes the Object of my Praise,
And what the God directs, the Bard obeys.
Begin my Muse, and sing in Epick Strain
The Petticoat; (nor shalt thou sing in vain,
The Petticoat will sure reward thy Pain!)
Proceed its various Beauties to display,
And set its Circling Charms in full Array;
Say whence its wond'rous Origin it drew,
Then spread the Wide-stretch'd Petticoat to view:
Not that which is by Rural Damsels worn,
Not that which Modern Milk-Maids does adorn;
These may be Grasp'd by ev'ry Grubstreet Muse,
But mine, through nobler Paths, a nobler End pursues.
The Petticoat; (nor shalt thou sing in vain,
The Petticoat will sure reward thy Pain!)
Proceed its various Beauties to display,
And set its Circling Charms in full Array;
Say whence its wond'rous Origin it drew,
Then spread the Wide-stretch'd Petticoat to view:
Not that which is by Rural Damsels worn,
Not that which Modern Milk-Maids does adorn;
These may be Grasp'd by ev'ry Grubstreet Muse,
But mine, through nobler Paths, a nobler End pursues.
Rais'd