The moon repletes her waning face,
All beauteous from her late disgrace,
And suns, that mourn approaching night,
Refulgent rise with new-born light.

In vain may death and time subdue,
While Nature mints her race anew,
And holds some vital spark apart,
Like virtue, hid in ev'ry heart.
'Tis hence reviving warmth is seen
To clothe a naked world in green,
No longer barr'd by winter's cold,
Again the gates of life unfold;
Again each insect tries his wing,
And lifts fresh pinions on the spring;
Again from ev'ry latent root

The bladed stem, and tendril shoot,
Exhaling incense to the skies,

Again to perish and to rise.

And must weak woman then disown
The change to which a world is prone?
In one meridian brightness shine,
And ne'er like ev'ning suns decline?
Resolv'd and firm alone?-Is this
What we demand of woman?—Yes.

But should the spark of vestal fire
In some unguarded hour expire,
Or should the nightly thief invade
Hesperia's chaste and sacred shade,

Of all the blooming spoil possess'd,
The dragon Honour charm'd to rest,
Shall virtue's flame no more return?
No more with virgin splendour burn?
No more the ravag'd garden blow
With spring's succeeding blossom?---No.
Pity may mourn, but not restore;
And woman falls, to rise no more.
Within this sublunary sphere
A country lies--no matter where;
The clime may readily be found
By all, who tread poetic ground.
A stream call'd Life across it glides,
And equally the land divides;
And here, of Vice the province lies;
And there, the hills of Virtue rise.
Upon a mountain's airy stand,
Whose summit look'd to either land,
An ancient pair their dwelling chose,
As well for prospect as repose;
For mutual faith they long were fam'd,
And Temp'rance and Religion nam'd.
A num'rous progeny divine
Confess'd the honours of their line;
But in a little daughter fair

Was centr'd more than half their care;
For heav'n, to gratulate her birth,
Gave signs of future joy to earth;

White was the robe this infant wore,
And Chastity the name she bore.

As now the maid in stature grew,
(A flow'r just op'ning to the view)
Oft through her native lawns she stray'd,
And wrestling with the lambkins play'd;
Her looks diffusive sweets bequeath'd,
The breeze grew purer as she breath'd,
The morn her radiant blush assum'd,
The spring with earlier fragrance bloom'd,
And nature yearly took delight,

Like her, to dress the world in white.
But when her rising form was seen

To reach the crisis of fifteen,
Her parents up the mountain's head
With anxious step their darling led;
By turns they snatch'd her to their breast,
And thus the fears of age express'd:

"O joyful cause of many a care!

O daughter, too divinely fair!
Yon world on this important day
Demands thee to a dang'rous way;
A painful journey all must go,
Whose doubtful period none can know,
Whose due direction who can find,

Where reason's mute, and sense is blind?

Ah, what unequal leaders these,

Through such a wide, perplexing maze!

Of all the blooming spoil possess'd,
The dragon Honour charm'd to rest,
Shall virtue's flame no more return?
No more with virgin splendour burn?
No more the ravag'd garden blow
With spring's succeeding blossom?--No.
Pity may mourn, but not restore;
And woman falls, to rise no more.
Within this sublunary sphere
A country lies-no matter where;
The clime may readily be found
By all, who tread poetic ground.
A stream call'd Life across it glides,
And equally the land divides;
And here, of Vice the province lies;
And there, the hills of Virtue rise.
Upon a mountain's airy stand,
Whose summit look'd to either land,
An ancient pair their dwelling chose,
As well for prospect as repose;
For mutual faith they long were fam'd,
And Temp'rance and Religion nam'd.

A num'rous progeny divine
Confess'd the honours of their line;
But in a little daughter fair

Was centr'd more than half their care; For heav'n, to gratulate her birth,

Gave signs of future joy to earth;

White was the robe this infant wore,
And Chastity the name she bore.

As now the maid in stature grew,
(A flow'r just op'ning to the view)
Oft through her native lawns she stray'd,
And wrestling with the lambkins play'd;
Her looks diffusive sweets bequeath'd,
The breeze grew purer as she breath'd,
The morn her radiant blush assum'd,
The spring with earlier fragrance bloom'd,
And nature yearly took delight,

Like her, to dress the world in white.
But when her rising form was seen
To reach the crisis of fifteen,
Her parents up the mountain's head
With anxious step their darling led;
By turns they snatch'd her to their breast,
And thus the fears of age express'd:

"O joyful cause of many a care!

O daughter, too divinely fair!
Yon world on this important day
Demands thee to a dang'rous way;
A painful journey all must go,
Whose doubtful period none can know,
Whose due direction who can find,

Where reason's mute, and sense is blind?

Ah, what unequal leaders these,

Through such a wide, perplexing maze!