Classic Poem

Hail happy Virgin ! of celestial Race,
Adorn'd with Wisdom ! and repleat with Grace !
By Contemplation you ascend above,
And fill your Breast with true seraphic Love.
And when you from that sacred Mount descend,
You give us Rules our Morals to amend:
Those pious Maxims you your self apply,
And make the Universe your Family .
No more, Oh Spain! thy Saint Teresa boast,
Here's one out-shines her on the British Coast;

Directs as well, and regulates her Love,
But in that Sphere, with greater Force doth move.
Whose Soul like hers! view'd its Almighty End!
And to that Center, all its Motions tend:
Like her! the glorious Monuments doth raise,
Beyond male Envy! or a female Praise!

Too long! indeed, has been our Sex decryed
And ridicul'd by Men's malignant Pride;
Who fearing of a just Return forbore,
And made it criminal to teach us more.
That Women had no Souls, was their Pretence,
And Women's Spelling past for Women's Sense
When you, most generous Heroine! stood forth,
And show'd your Sex's Aptitude and Worth.
Were it no more! yet you bright Maid alone,
Might for a World of Vanity Atone!
Redeem the coming Age! and set us free!
From the false Brand of Incapacity.