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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513541" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Emulation</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Say, Tyrant Custom, why must we obey<br> The impositions of thy haughty Sway;<br> From the first dawn of Life, unto the Grave,<br> Poor Womankind's in every State, a Slave.<br> The Nurse, the Mistress, Parent and the Swain,<br> For Love she must, there's none escape that Pain;<br> Then comes the last, the fatal Slavery,<br> The Husband with insulting Tyranny<br> Can have ill Manners justify'd by Law;<br> For Men all join to keep the Wife in awe.<br> Moses who first our Freedom did rebuke,<br> Was Marry'd when he writ the Pentateuch;<br> They're Wise to keep us Slaves, for well they know,<br> If we were loose, we soon should make them so.<br> We yield like vanquish'd Kings whom Fetters bind,<br> When chance of War is to Usurpers kind;<br> Submit in Form; but they'd our Thoughts control,<br> And lay restraints on the impassive Soul:<br> They fear we should excel their sluggish parts,<br> Should we attempt the Sciences and Arts;<br> Pretend they were design'd for them alone,<br> So keep us Fools to raise their own Renown;<br> Thus Priests of old their Grandeur to maintain,<br> Cry'd vulgar Eyes would sacred Laws Profane.<br> So kept the Mysteries behind a Screen,<br> There Homage and the Name were lost had they been seen:<br> But in this blessed Age, such Freedom's given,<br> That every Man explains the Will of Heaven;<br> And shall we Women now sit tamely by,<br> Make no excursions in Philosophy,<br> Or grace our Thoughts in tuneful Poetry?<br> We will our Rights in Learning's World maintain,<br> Wit's Empire, now, shall know a Female Reign,<br> Come all ye Fair, the great Attempt improve,<br> Divinely imitate the Realms above:<br> There's ten celestial Females govern Wit,<br> And but two Gods that dare pretend to it;<br> And shall these finite Males reverse their Rules,<br> No, we'll be Wits, and then Men must be Fools.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sarah+Fyge">Sarah Fyge</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=513541" data-title="The Emulation de Sarah Fyge" data-description="Say, Tyrant Custom, why must we obey
 The impositions of thy haughty Sway;
 From the first dawn of Life, unto the Grave,
 Poor Womankind's in every State, a Slave.
 The Nurse, the Mistress, Parent and the Swain,
 For Love she must, there's none es..."></div>
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