SONG. Eliza Day Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T132359 Daye, Eliza, b. ca. 1734. Poems, on Various Subjects. Liverpool Printed by J. M'Creery 1798 pp. [171]-173. [2],x,[4],258p.; 8°

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SONG . HAPPY ! happy ! happy Woman ! Thou art nature's darling care ; She only gave his strength to man , To be the guardian of the fair . As in the Anana we can trace Each delicious fruit combin'd , And in the diamond's varied blaze , The hue of every gem we find . So nature's charms collected are In sweet woman's lovely frame , Whate'er is charming , fine , or rare , In woman can be seen the same . Mistaking man , himself may check , He happy woman still approves ; Whene'er it pleases her to speak , 'Tis sweet to him , as vocal groves . Man may be doom'd to wander far , Happy woman needs not roam ; The fruits of peace , and spoils of war , He brings to her , delighted , home . Study nor labour man withstands ; Neither can fair woman need , She must not tire her lily hands , Or dim her shining eyes to read . That women food and raiment share , Man his vigour spends and prime ; Whilst she thinks what to eat and wear , And how to spend her happy time . She must not soil her dainty foot , While man the bitter storm must know ; He bears her cheerfully about , Where'er it is her mind to go . A rout , a play , a masquerade , Is happy woman's pleasant sphere ; Man ever racks his careful head , For something new her heart to cheer . Man's stubborn heart grief deeply shares , If bitter moisture fills his eye ; If nature gave to woman tears , She only meant them tears of joy . That age decays is nature's doom : But art can mysteries unfold ; Olympian dew , Circassian bloom ; And happy woman ne'er is old . Since woman is so blest on earth , Be man alone the prey of death ; Some antidote let art bring forth , And woman keep her fragrant breath .