The Graces next would act their part,
And show’d but little of their art;
Their work was half already done,
The child with native beauty shone;
The outward form no help required: 
Each, breathing on her thrice, inspired
That gentle, soft, engaging air,
Which in old times adorn’d the fair: 
And said, “Vanessa be the name
By which thou shall be known to fame: 
Vanessa, by the gods enroll’d: 
Her name on earth shall not be told.” 
  But still the work was not complete;
When Venus thought on a deceit. 
Drawn by her doves, away she flies,
And finds out Pallas in the skies. 
Dear Pallas, I have been this morn
To see a lovely infant born: 
A boy in yonder isle below,
So like my own without his bow,
By beauty could your heart be won,
You’d swear it is Apollo’s son;
But it shall ne’er be said, a child
So hopeful, has by me been spoil’d: 
I have enough besides to spare,
And give him wholly to your care. 
  Wisdom’s above suspecting wiles;
The Queen of Learning gravely smiles,
Down from Olympus comes with joy,
Mistakes Vanessa for a boy;
Then sows within her tender mind
Seeds long unknown to womankind: 
For manly bosoms chiefly fit,
The seeds of knowledge, judgment, wit. 
Her soul was suddenly endued
With justice, truth, and fortitude;
With honour, which no breath can stain,
Which malice must attack in vain;
With open heart and bounteous hand. 
But Pallas here was at a stand;
She knew, in our degenerate days,
Bare virtue could not live on praise;
That meat must be with money bought: 
She therefore, upon second thought,
Infused, yet as it were by stealth,
Some small regard for state and wealth;
Of which, as she grew up, there staid
A tincture in the prudent maid: 
She managed her estate with care,
Yet liked three footmen to her chair. 
But, lest he should neglect his studies
Like a young heir, the thrifty goddess
(For fear young master should be spoil’d)
Would use him like a younger child;
And, after long computing, found
’Twould come to just five thousand pound. 
  The Queen of Love was pleased, and proud,
To see Vanessa thus endow’d: 
She doubted not but such a dame
Through every breast would dart a flame,
That every rich and lordly swain
With pride would drag about her chain;
That scholars would forsake their books,
To study bright Vanessa’s looks;
As she advanced, that womankind
Would by her model form their mind,
And all their conduct would be tried
By her, as an unerring guide;
Offending daughters oft would hear
Vanessa’s praise rung in their ear: 
Miss Betty, when she does a fault,
Lets fall her knife, or spills the salt,
Will thus be by her mother chid,
“’Tis what Vanessa never did!”
Thus by the nymphs and swains adored,
My power shall be again restored,