FROM PHILANDER TO EUMENES. WITH pleasure I your welcome letter read, While Cupid for a little from me fled. With freedom write, dispel your trivial fears; There's nought presumptuous in your song appears; Tho' strange th' ideas which you now convey, While you our lovely females thus portray. No doubt, there are, in the promiscuous crowd, The worthless fair, the virtuous and the good; The haughty nymph, the maid of humble mind; Th' imperious, yea, the gentle and the kind; Such as an adamantine heart could charm, And furious tygers of their rage disarm. In all vicissitudes of human life, Man's greatest blessing is a virtuous wife: Her smiles can't fail to sooth his anxious breast, Diffusing joy, while various cares molest: Her prudent counsel swift relief can bring, As Abigail appeased Isr'el's king. Nor need I thus the sacred annals trace, In Britain's Isle they claim the highest place; When dire oppression, with uplifted hand, His yoke extended o'er our native land, Our sires to abject slavery were doom'd, Our mothers all their ancient claims resum'd: You'll say my speeches do me partial prove, And so ascribe the cruel cause to love. Are you alone exempt from such a guest? Are you of every antidote possess'd T' effect a cure, or mitigate the pain? Then may the archer cast his shafts in vain. Of late dear friend I did such valour boast; But by one fatal glance the field was lost. While you are free of dangers, still beware; Be warn'd by me, and shun th' alluring snare. It is by some deem'd cowardice to fly, But sure it more ignoble is to die: To die, I'm frantic, sir; what did I say? Reason once more resume thy wonted sway; Kind heaven defend us from such dire alarms; Who would a victim fall to female charms? I find I'm better while your lines I read, I'm almost from my Gallic fetters free'd. As you alone were partner of my grief, Pray now congratulate my quick relief. I would not by prolixity offend; Both bound and free, Philander is your friend.