Classic Poem

ODE LI

1

The Cooped Lion, has broke through his Grate,
And forages abroad;
Whilst frighted villagers, of Danger prate;
In their amazement woode.
Consider what
Annoyance may succeed: Hee thirsts for Blood.

2

Soe doth the Ruffian, (fettered in the Brow
Of awfull modestie)
Pursue his Lusts, when women but allow
Familiaritie:
You hardly know
What Mischeife followes, in his Libertie.

3

Make Short his Fetters, by your powerfull Eye;
And keepe him yet, a Slave,
Chained by (your Beauties Honour) modestie;
Your Tirrannie, is Brave.
Ladies: I doe not see
How he can injure you, without your Leave;

4

For Modestie, keeps still inviolate
The Honour of a name.
And who dare presse, upon that prettye State,
Which Innocence doth frame?
Noe Tongue dares prate
To wrong your Honour, or traduce your Fame.

5

Forgett the Fashion of the Times; and Chuse
Waies, proper to your Sex.
Avoid those franticke Habits, which abuse
Your Creditts, and perplex
You, in the use;
For Fame, will strangelie Glosse upon the Text.

*****

And tis too much Presumption of your Shame
That you are falne, to be Judged in Fame.