Verses, Addressed to a Young Lady, on Her Leaving School

I WISH not, Anna, to offend, But write the language of a friend; For tho' my dear from school you're freed, You've enter'd on a task indeed; To act, as you proceed through life, As daughter, mother, friend, and wife.

No doubt, within the school confin'd, Your charming lively active mind, By fancy's aid, contriv'd to dress, Gay painted scenes of happiness; And thought in all your future hours, To find your pathway strew'd with flow'rs,

Ah! lovely maid, too soon you'll find Your happiest days are left behind! To grief and sorrow we were born, Each flow'er we see conceals a thorn; Like traitors, who, with hidden dart, First soothe and win, then wound the heart. Tho' life is an uneven road, And tho' uncertain our abode, Within this fragile house of clay, Yet there are means to smooth the way; From my experience dearly bought, Blush not, my Anna to be taught.

And first, dear girl, each morn and ev'n Lift up your spotless soul to heav'n, The pow'r who gave you life adore, His wrath appease, his grace implore; 'Tis our first duty; next to this, Study your earthly parents bliss. Increase their joys, soothe all their cares, And have no wish, no will but theirs; Whate'er they bid you do or say Dispute not, chearfully obey Their just commands, and if severe, Remonstrate only with a tear: For tho' unkindness grieves the heart, Submission is a daughter's part.

Part of your happiness depends On a judicious choice of friends. If e'er your heart's by grief oppress'd, Repose it in a mother's breast; To her each secret thought impart, Use no disguise, detest all arts; Be candid, open and sincere, A mother's love you cannot fear, She'll be a kind and faithful friend, And teach you how each fault to mend, To others be polite and kind, But cautious how you speak your mind: Yet should it be your fate to meet, A woman prudent and discreet. Whose tongue to slander ne'er was prone, Who makes your joys and griefs her own, Prize her, for 'tis from bounteous heav'n The choicest gift that can be giv'n.

In friendship with the other sex Be cautious, they are apt to vex; Nor vainly think that you shall prove The pleasures of Platonic love: It is a phantom in the way, To lead poor thoughtless girls astray. Tho' man by nature was design'd, A guardian for weak woman kind, Endow'd with reason, sense and care, To shield from wrong the helpless fair, No sooner did the tyrant see Woman from ev'ry blemish free, Than heedless of his guardian part, He strove, by mean seductive art, To rob her of her brightest charms, To fill her breast with wild alarms, Revers'd kind nature's gentle plan, And woman's now the slave of man.

To lovers act with modest spirit, Treat them according to their merit; Encourage not, from foolish pride; Fifty to dangle at your side: But if you do not like a man, Dismiss him gently as you can; Thank him, but say 'twould be in vain, Ever to urge his suit again. But if the man whom you approve, Should softly tell a tale of love; Let your flush'd cheek and downeast eye In silence modestly reply; Yet don't too easily believe, For man, my Anna, will deceive,

If to misfortune's school you're brought, Sad sorrow's lesson to be taught; If forc'd from your dear parent's side, To pass through life without a guide; Be circumspect, be cautious, then, Beware of all, but most of men. For they will study to betray, And make our helpless sex their prey; From virtue's bright refulgent throne With baleful hand will drag you down; Dishonour first, then leave to mourn Those blessings which can ne'er return. As the young bird who from the nest, Its mother's fost' ring wings and breast Timidly ventures thro' the air, Far from the tender parent's care; If chance some hawk beholds it fly, He views it with an eager eye, Pursues, and clench'd within his power, It falls, poor bird, to rise no more

When once the nuptial knot is tied, And my sweet girl becomes a bride, Be it your care to keep your own The heart your virgin sweetness won. Kind to his friends and those he loves, Be sure to like whom he approves. Let neatness o'er your dress preside, Let prudence all your actions guide; Far from your bosom ever chace The green-ey'd fiend, and in its place Encourage mutual confidence; For jealousy, if not driv'n hence, Will on your inmost vitals prey, And steal your soul's repose away.

To servants gentlest usage give, 'Tis hard enough that they must live In servitude, without ill-nature, From those they serve, a fellow-creature, Tho' plac'd in e'er such low degree, Feels grief and pain as well as we.

In ev'ry station seek not wealth, Nor pray for aught save peace and health; For by mankind it is confess'd The middle sphere is still the best, Contentment there her throne will six, And fly the gilded coach and six. If e'er your heart feels joy sincere, 'Twill be to dry affliction's tear; To visit the distress'd and poor, And chace pale famine from their door. To humble merit be a friend, The character, aspersed, defend.

While Anna thus her time employs, Pure and unmix'd will be her joys; Time, thus improv'd, glides gently on, Nor will you find one day too long. And when at length the hand of death, Shall steal away your vital breath, The ghastly king shall only be, A messenger of joy to thee, To take thee from this, world below, To one where joys ne'ercease to flow. Plac'd on a throne and rob'd in white, Too glorious far for mortal sight, Joining the angels heav'nly lays, Glorious immortal hymns of praise.