His love provoked her scorn, his wealth she spurn’d,
And frowns for praise, contempt for prayer return’d;
But, proud yet shrewd, the wily sex despise
The would-be husband—yet the votary prize. 70
As Roman conquerors, of their triumph vain,
Saw humbled monarchs in their pompous train,
Who, when no more they swell’d the show of pride,
In secret sorrow’d, or in silence died:
So, when our friend adored the Beauty’s shrine,
She mark’d the act, and gave the nod divine;