PALLAS and VENUS. AN EPIGRAM.

The Trojan Swain had judg'd the great Dispute;
 And Beauty's Pow'r obtain'd the Golden Fruit;
 When Venus, loose in all Her naked Charms,
 Met Jove's great Daughter clad in shining Arms.
 The wanton Goddess view'd the Warlike Maid
 From Head to Foot, and Tauntingly She said:

Yield, Sister; Rival, yield; Naked, You see,
 I vanquish: Guess how Potent I should be;
 If to the Field I came in Armour drest;
 Dreadful, like Thine, my Shield, and terrible my Crest. 

The Warrior Goddess with Disdain reply'd;
 Thy Folly, Child, is equal to thy Pride:
 Let a brave Enemy for once advise,
 And Venus (if 'tis possible) be Wise. 
Thou to be strong must put off every Dress:
 Thy only Armour is thy Nakedness:
 And more than once, (or Thou art much bely'd)
 By Mars himself That Armour has been try'd.