TheEnchantress Neria flourished in those days;
          E’en Circe, she excelled in Satan’s ways;
          The storms she made obedient to her will,
          And regulated with superior skill;
          In chains the destinies she kept around;
          The gentle zephyrs were her sages found;
          The winds, her lacqueys, flew with rapid course;
          Alert, but obstinate, with pow’rful force.

          Withall her art th’ enchantress could not find,
          A charm to guard her ’gainst the urchin blind;
          Though she’d the pow’r to stop the star of day,
          She burned to gain a being formed of clay. 
          If merely a salute her wish had been,
          She might have had it, easily was seen;
          But bliss unbounded clearly was her view,
          And this with anxious ardour she’d pursue. 
          Though charms she had, still Damon would remain,
          To her who had his heart a faithful swain: 
          In vain she sought the genial soft caress: 
          To Neria naught but friendship he’d express. 
          Like Damon, husbands nowhere now are found,
          And I’m not certain, such were e’er on ground. 
          I rather fancy, hist’ry is not here,
          What we would wish, since truth it don’t revere,
          I nothing in the hippogriff perceive,
          Or lance enchanted, but we may believe;
          Yet this I must confess has raised surprise,
          Howe’er, to pass it will perhaps suffice;
          I’ve many passed the same,—­in ancient days;
          Men different were from us:  had other ways;
          Unlike the present manners, we’ll suppose;
          Or history would other facts disclose.

          Theam’rous Neria to obtain her end,
          Made use of philters, and would e’en descend;
          To ev’ry wily look and secret art,
          That could to him she loved her flame impart. 
          Our swain his marriage vow to this opposed;
          At which th’ enchantress much surprise disclosed. 
          You doubtless fancy, she exclaimed one day,
          That your fidelity must worth display;
          But I should like to know if equal care,
          Calista takes to act upon the square. 
          Suppose your wife had got a smart gallant,
          Would you refuse as much a fair to grant? 
          And if Calista, careless of your fame,
          Should carry to extremes a guilty flame,
          Would you but half way go?  I truly thought,
          By sturdy hymen thus you’d not be caught. 
          Domestick joys should be to cits confined;
          For none but such were scenes like those designed.