JULIA'S PRINTED LETTER.

TO LORD

-"AND darst thou then, insulting lord, demand
A friendly answer from this trembling band?
Perish the thought! shall this unguarded pen
Still trust its frailties with the frauds of men?
To one, and one alone, again impart
The soft effusions of a melting heart!—
No more thy lips my tender page shall stain,
And print false kisses, dreamt sincere in vain;
No more thy eyes with sweet surprise pursue
Love's secret mysteries, there unveil❜d to you.
Demand'st thou still an answer?-let it be
An answer worthy vengeance, worthy me!-
Hear it in public characters relate

An ill-starr'd passion, and capricious fate!
Yes, public let it stand;-to warn the Maid
From her that fell, less vanquish'd than betray'd;
Guiltless, yet doom'd with guilty pangs to groan,
And expiate other's treasons, not her own:
A race of shame in Honour's paths to run,
Still Virtue's follower, yet by Vice undone;
Such free complaint to injur'd love belongs,
Yes, tyrant, read, and know me by my wrongs;
Know thy own treacheries, bar'd to general view,
Yes, traitor, read, and reading tremble too!

"What Vice would perpetrate and Fraud disguise, I come to blaze it to a nation's eyes;

I come-ah! wretch, thy swelling rage control,
Was he not once the idol of thy soul?-

True, by his guilt thy tortur'd bosom bleeds, Yet spare his blushes, for 'tis Love that pleads!-Respecting him, respect thy infant flame, Proclaim the treason, hide the traitor's name !Enough to honour, and revenge be giv'n,

This truth reserve for conscience, and for Heav'n!→ "Talk'st thou, ingrate, of Friendship's holy pow'rs?

What binds the tyger and the lamb, be ours!
This cold, this frozen bosom, canst thou dream,
Senseless to love, will soften to esteem?

What means thy proffer'd friendship?—but to prove
Thou wilt not hate her, whom thou canst not love-
Remember thee !-repeat that sound again!—
My heart applauding echoes to the strain;
Yes, till this heart forgets to beat, and grieve,
Live there thy image-but detested live!—
Still swell my rage-uncheck'd by time, or fate,
Nor waken memory but to kindle hate!-

"Enter thy treacherous bosom, enter deep, Hear Conscience call, while flattering passions sleep!

Impartial search, and tell thy boasted claim
To Love's indulgence and to virtuous Fame!
Where harbour Honour, Justice, Faith, and Truth,"
Bright forms, whose dazzling semblance caught my
youth.

How could I doubt what fairest seem'd and best,
Should build its mansion in a noble breast?
How doubt such generous virtues lodg'd in thine
That felt them glowing, tender maid, in mine?
Boast not of trophies from my fall achiev'd,
Boast not, deceiver, in this soul deceiv'd;

Easy the traitor saps an open heart,
Artless itself, and unsuspecting art:
Not by superior wiles, successful proves,
But fond credulity in her that loves.-

"Blush, shameless grandeur, blush!-shall Britain's peer,

Daring all crimes, not dare to be sincere?-
His fraud in Virtue's fairest likeness paint,
And hide his nobleness in base constraint.
What charms were mine to tempt thy guilty fires!
What wealth, what honours, from illustrious sires!
Can Virtue's simple spoils adorn thy race?
Shall annals mark a village-maid's disgrace?
Ev'n the sad secret, to thyself confin'd,
Sleeps, nor thou dar'st divulge it to mankind:
When bursting tears my inward anguish speak,
When paleness spreads my sometimes flushing

cheek,

When my frame trembles with convulsive strife,
And spirits flutter on the verge of life,

When to my heart the ebbing pulse is driv'n,
And eyes throw faint accusing beams to Heav'n,
Still from the world those swelling sighs suppress'd,
Those sorrows streaming in one faithful breast;
Explain to her, from others hide my care,
Thought Nature's weakness, and not Love's despair,
The sprightly youth in gloomy languor pine,
My portion misery, yet not triumph thine-
Ah! whence derives thy sex its barbarous pow'rs
To spoil the sweetness of our virgin hours?
Why leave me not, where first I met your eye,
A simple flower to bloom in shades, and die ?—
Where sprightly Morn on downy pinions rose,
And Evening lull'd me to a deep repose?

Sharing pure joys, at least divine content,
The choicest treasure for mere mortals meant.
Ah! wherefore poisoning moments sweet as these,
Essay on me thy fatal arts to please?

Destin'd, if prosperous, for sublimer charms,
To court proud wealth and greatness to thy arms!
How many a brighter, many a fairer dame,
Fond of her prize, had fann'd thy fickle flame?
With livelier moments sooth'd thy vacant mind!
Easy possess'd thee, easy too resign'd-
Chang'd but her object, Passion's willing slave,
Nor felt a wound to fester to the grave--
Oh! had I, conscious of thy fierce desires,
But half consenting, shar'd contagious fires,
But half reluctant, heard thy vows explain'd,
This vanquish'd heart had suffer'd, not complain’d-
But ah! with tears and crowded sighs to sue
False Passion's dress in colours meant for true;
Artful assume Confusion's sweet disguise,
Meet my coy virtues with dejected eyes,
Steal their sweet language that no words impart,
And give me back an image of my heart;
This, this was treachery, fated best to share
Hate from my bosom, and from thine despair-
Yet unrelenting still the tyrant cries,
Heedless of Pity's voice and Beauty's sighs,
"That pious frauds the wisest, best, approve,
And Heaven but smiles at perjuries in love.'-
"No-'tis the villain's plea, his poor pretence
To seize a trembling prey, that wants defence.
"No-'tis the base sensation cowards feel;
The wretch that trembles at the brave man's steel,
Fierce and undaunted to a sex appears,

That breathes its vengeance but in sighs and tears;

That helpless sex, by Nature's voice address'd To lean its weakness on your firmer breast, Protection pleads in vain-the' ungenerous slave ✔ Insults the virtue he was born to save.

"What! shall the lightest promise lips can feign, Bind man to man in Honour's sacred chain? And oaths to us not sanctify the' accord, Not Heaven attested, and Heaven's awful Lord? Why various laws for beings form'd the same! Equal from one indulgent hand we came, For mutual bliss that each assign'd its place, With manly vigour tempering female grace, Depriv'd our gentler intercourse, explain Your solitary pleasures sullen reign;

What tender joys sit brooding o'er your store, How sweet Ambition's slumbers gorg'd with gore! 'Tis our's the' unsocial passions to control,

Pour the glad balm that heals the wounded soul;
From Wealth, from Power's delusive, restless
To lure your fancy to diviner themes. [dreams,
Confess at length your fancied rights you draw
From force superior, and not Nature's law;
Yet know, by us those boasted arms prevail,
By native gentleness, not man we fail;
With brave revenge a tyrant's blood to spill,
Possessing all the power-we want the will.
"Still if you glory in the lion's force,
Come, nobly emulate that lion's course!
From guarded herds he vindicates his prey,
Nor lurks in fraudful thickets from the day;
While man, with snares to cheat, with wiles perplex,
Weakens, already weak, too soft a sex;

In laws, in customs, fashion's fetters binds,
Relaxes all the nerves that brace our minds,