Page:The Royal Lady's Magazine (Volume 2, 1831).djvu/21
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Cuddy Clew.
5
Nay, she can nature's course defy,
Make cowards fight, and heroes fly;
Draw back the miser from the mine,
The bigot from his holy shrine,
To plunge in sins, denounced and fear'd,
And lead the prelate by the beard;
Make armies rally, or disperse,
And so derange the universe,
That man might ween o'er his domain,
Nature had dropp'd the regal rein,
And given up the supreme command,
To woman's weak and erring hand.
Refute these dogmas, if you can,
Or own, that she's the plague of man.
Make cowards fight, and heroes fly;
Draw back the miser from the mine,
The bigot from his holy shrine,
To plunge in sins, denounced and fear'd,
And lead the prelate by the beard;
Make armies rally, or disperse,
And so derange the universe,
That man might ween o'er his domain,
Nature had dropp'd the regal rein,
And given up the supreme command,
To woman's weak and erring hand.
Refute these dogmas, if you can,
Or own, that she's the plague of man.
ROBIN.
Such general censure, at the best,
Is a miscellany, confest,
Of downright nonsense. Woman may,
With better proof, pretend to say,
She would have purer, happier been,
If man on earth had ne'er been seen.
Such general censure, at the best,
Is a miscellany, confest,
Of downright nonsense. Woman may,
With better proof, pretend to say,
She would have purer, happier been,
If man on earth had ne'er been seen.
CUDDY.
Sooth, Rob, there's naething truly wicked,
But what they learn mankind a trick o't.
They lead a young man like a snool,
To caper, dance, an' play the fool;
To babble nonsense, and when done,
To shoot, or hang himself, for fun.
Woman can set the world in jar,
Can turn peace into deadly war,
Can turn man's reason upside down,
And make him dance upon his crown;
Can turn a priest into a woman,
A stalwart quean afraid of no man,
Then turn him out. And as you ken,
His wig into a cloakin hen.
And lastly, in this grand appeal,
Can she not make a shepherd feel
Her sovereign power, an' stern controul,
By turning him into an owl,
A puling prig.—an' worst of a',
His nose into a lobster claw?
'Tis plain, that by their wicked craft,
They've dung me dailt, an' put you daft,
An' that's enough, as you may see,
To settle points 'tween you and me.
Sooth, Rob, there's naething truly wicked,
But what they learn mankind a trick o't.
They lead a young man like a snool,
To caper, dance, an' play the fool;
To babble nonsense, and when done,
To shoot, or hang himself, for fun.
Woman can set the world in jar,
Can turn peace into deadly war,
Can turn man's reason upside down,
And make him dance upon his crown;
Can turn a priest into a woman,
A stalwart quean afraid of no man,
Then turn him out. And as you ken,
His wig into a cloakin hen.
And lastly, in this grand appeal,
Can she not make a shepherd feel
Her sovereign power, an' stern controul,
By turning him into an owl,
A puling prig.—an' worst of a',
His nose into a lobster claw?
'Tis plain, that by their wicked craft,
They've dung me dailt, an' put you daft,
An' that's enough, as you may see,
To settle points 'tween you and me.
ROBIN.
No; though your sweeping accusation,
Deserves not, needs not, confutation;
Let me describe her, stage by stage,
Through youth, through womanhood, and age;
Virtuous and lovely, I must show her,
For these are nature's doweries to her;
A being, made for social bliss,
And all exceptions, I dismiss.
Then tell me, as I go along,
Where I am painting woman wrong.
No; though your sweeping accusation,
Deserves not, needs not, confutation;
Let me describe her, stage by stage,
Through youth, through womanhood, and age;
Virtuous and lovely, I must show her,
For these are nature's doweries to her;
A being, made for social bliss,
And all exceptions, I dismiss.
Then tell me, as I go along,
Where I am painting woman wrong.