Katherine Philips

Thomas Newcomb, in Bibliotheca 1712; Nichols, Select Collection of Poems (1780-82) 3:44-45.

Orinda next demands his view,
For titles fam'd, and rhyming too;
And had been read, but that her song,
To be admir'd, was quite too long.
Their mistress went of pride to shew,
Her numbers glide but wondrous low,
Instead of rapture give us sleep,
And, striving to be humble, creep.
Philipps in verse her passion told,
Intreats the youth to be less cold;
Begs him, while nature charms denies,
To mind her Wit, and not her eyes;
Instructs the novice how to wooe,
And shews what little art will do,
A virgin's yielding heart to move,
And melt a breast inclin'd to love!
Softness her want of sense supplies,
She faints in every line, and dies;
Again resumes her tender strain,
And only lives so dye again.
Unhappy maid, correct thy Muse,
Some nearer way to wedlock chuse:
She warbles with so ill a grace,
Thy airs are coarser than thy face;
And will be found (believe me) still
To frighten ten, for one they kill.
Dear Phyllis, then, leave off in time,
Lovers are ne'er trepann'd by rhyme;
Thy bobbins or thy needle take,
Each will as deep impressions make;
And, to enjoy the youth's embrace,
Cashier thy Muse, and stick to lace.