Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/126

114 Searching in books for wisdom's aid, Was, in the very search, betray'd. Cupid, though all his darts were lost, Yet still resolv'd to spare no cost: He could not answer to his fame The triumphs of that stubborn dame, A nymph so hard to be subdued, Who neither was coquette nor prude. I find, said he, she wants a doctor, Both to adore her, and instruct her: I'll give her what she most admires, Among those venerable sires. Cadenus is a subject fit, Grown old in politicks and wit, Caress'd by ministers of state, Of half mankind the dread and hate. Whate'er vexations love attend, She need no rivals apprehend. Her sex, with universal voice, Must laugh at her capricious choice. Cadenus many things had writ: Vanessa much esteem'd his wit, And call'd for his poetick works: Mean time the boy in secret lurks; And, while the book was in her hand. The urchin from his private stand Took aim, and shot with all his strength A dart of such prodigious length, It pierc'd the feeble volume through, And deep transfix'd her bosom too. Some lines, more moving than the rest, Stuck to the point that pierc'd her breast, And, born directly to the heart, With pains unknown, increas'd her smart. Vanessa,