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oo long has Man, engrofling ev'ry art,

Dard to reject the Female's rightful part;

As if to him, alone, had been confin'd,

Heav'n's greatest gift, a scientifick mind.
The rougher arts, 'tis true, men juftly claim;
But let the smooth and tranquil paths to fame,
Which alk not strength of body, but of mind,
Be, as the soul, to neither sex confin'd.
For tho' sometimes, the fair might easy prove,
Females have well in nobleft conflicts ftrove;
As when Eliza Britain's sceptre sway'd,
And the aw'd world admir'd the matchless maids
Yet willingly to man the palm they yield,
From throne and sceptre, to the sword and shield:
But in those arts which humanize the mind,
They boaft an equal pow'r with all mankind.

When some lov'd fair-one tunes the vocal lay,
And the rapt foul with pleasure melts away;
Or, as she raises high th' enchanting strain,
Cecilia seems return'd to earth again,
While o'er the magick keys her fingers trace
The sounds celestial of th' immortal race ;



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