Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/131

Rh She rallied well, he always knew: Her manner now was something new; And what she spoke was in an air As serious as a tragick player. Bat those who aim at ridicule Should fix upon some certain rule, Which fairly hints they are in jest, Else he must enter his protest: For, let a man be ne'er so wise, He may be caught with sober lies; A science which he never taught, And, to be free, was dearly bought; For, take it in its proper light, 'Tis just what coxcombs call a bite. But, not to dwell on things minute, Vanessa finish'd the dispute; Brought weighty arguments to prove That reason was her guide in love. She thought he had himself describ'd, His doctrines when she first imbib'd: What he had planted, now was grown; His virtues she might call her own; As he approves, as he dislikes, Love or contempt her fancy strikes. Self-love, in nature rooted fast. Attends us first, and leaves us last: Why she likes him, admire not at her; She loves herself, and that's the matter. How was her tutor wont to praise The geniuses of ancient days! (Those authors he so oft had nam'd, For learning, wit, and wisdom, fam'd) Was struck with love, esteem, and awe, For persons whom he never saw. Rh