But that he ventured on denial twice:  —
If these have been, and so has Scandal taught,
Yet Malice never found the proof she sought. 
   But then came one, the Lovelace of his day,
Rich, proud, and crafty, handsome, brave, and gay;
Yet loved he not those labour’d plans and arts,
But left the business to the ladies’ hearts,
And when he found them in a proper train
He thought all else superfluous and vain: 
But in that training he was deeply taught,
And rarely fail’d of gaining all he sought;
He knew how far directly on to go,
How to recede and dally to and fro;
How to make all the passions his allies,
And, when he saw them in contention rise,
To watch the wrought-up heart, and conquer by surprise. 
   Our heroine fear’d him not; it was her part
To make sure conquest of such gentle heart —
Of one so mild and humble; for she saw
In Henry’s eye a love chastised by awe. 
Her thoughts of virtue were not all sublime,
Nor virtuous all her thoughts; ’twas now her time
To bait each hook, in every way to please,
And the rich prize with dext’rous hand to seize. 
She had no virgin-terrors; she could stray
In all love’s maze, nor fear to lose her way;
Nay, could go near the precipiee, nor dread
A failing caution or a giddy head;
She’d fix her eyes upon the roaring flood,
And dance upon the brink where danger stood. 
   ’Twas nature all, she judged, in one so young,
To drop the eye and falter in the tongue;
To be about to take, and then command
His daring wish, and only view the hand: 
Yes! all was nature; it became a maid
Of gentle soul t’encourage love afraid; —
He, so unlike the confident and bold,
Would fly in mute despair to find her cold: 
The young and tender germ requires the sun
To make it spread; it must be smiled upon. 
Thus the kind virgin gentle means devised,
To gain a heart so fond, a hand so prized;
More gentle still she grew, to change her way
Would cause confusion, danger, and delay: 
Thus (an increase of gentleness her mode),
She took a plain, unvaried, certain road,
And every hour believed success was near,
Till there was nothing left to hope or fear. 
   It must be own’d that, in this strife of hearts,
Man has advantage—­has superior arts: 
The lover’s aim is to the nymph unknown,
Nor is she always certain of her own;
Or has her fears, nor these can so disguise,
But he who searches reads them in her eyes,
In the avenging frown, in the regretting sighs: 
These are his signals, and he learns tb steer
The straighter course whenever they appear.

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“Pass we ten years, and what was Clelia’s fate?”
At an attorney’s board alert she sate, Not legal mistress:  he with other men
Once sought her hand, but other views were then; And when he knew he might the bliss command, He other