Her quill was one not pluck’d from Venus’ dove,
And her smart language proved her wounded love. (O.M.)
instead of ll. 786–93:
And thus for ever shall it be, when vice
Shall the weak heart from rectitude entice,
Or fear, with some poor passion, shall unite
To make that timid turning from the right,
Unerring Justice shall her pains decree,
And man shall own that thus it ought to be. (O.M.)