With her damn’d Stuff, will never cease to teeze us.
What has poor Woman done, that she must be
Debar’d from Sense, and sacred Poetry?
Why in this Age has Heaven allow’d you more,
And Women less of Wit than heretofore?
We once were fam’d in story, and could write
Equal to Men; cou’d govern, nay, cou’d fight.
| We still have passive Valour, and can show, Wou’d Custom give us leave, the active too, Since we no Provocations want from you. |
For who but we cou’d your dull Fopperies bear,
Your saucy Love, and your brisk Nonsense hear;