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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580119" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Eliza On Her Marriage</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">You're now, Eliza, fix'd for life;<br>In other words, you're now - a wife;<br>And let me whisper in your ear,<br>A wife, though fix'd, has cause to fear;<br>For much she risks, and much she loses<br>If an improper road she choses.<br>Yet think not that I mean to fright you, <br>My plan, au contraire's to delight you;<br>To draw the lines where comfort reaches;<br>Where folly flies; where prudence teaches.<br>In short, Eliza, to prevent you<br>From nameless ills that may torment you:<br>And ere bright Hymen's torch burns faintly,<br>From nuptial glare conduct you gently,<br>Where (cur'd of wounds from Cupid's quiver)<br>A milder lustre beams for ever!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First, then, Eliza, change your carriage,<br>Courtship's a different thing from marriage,<br>And much I fear (by passion blinded)<br>This change at first is seldom minded.<br>The miss who feasts on rich romances,<br>And love-sick sonnets, wisely fancies<br>That all the end of ardent wooing<br>Is constant billing, constant cooing.<br>The nymph again, whom caution teaches.<br>To doubt the truth of rapt'rous speeches,<br>She whom experience oft has school'd,<br>And shewn how husbands may be - rul'd,<br>Laughs at the whims of fond sixteen,<br>And thinks that wedlock stamps - a queen.<br>Now I (though ne'er, alas! contracted)<br>Consider both as half distracted;<br>And will predict that endless strife<br>Must be the lot of either wife.<br>Not that I would infer from hence<br>That men of feeling, worth, or sense,<br>Could every try to wound or pain<br>A tender breast with cold disdain;<br>Or e'er descend to storm and battle<br>At fondly-foolish female prattle.<br>Yet if sweet madam, without reason,<br>Will fret and fume, and mutter treason,<br>Plaguing her plain, unpuffing spouse,<br>About his former oaths and vows,<br>And tender sighs, and soft expressions,<br>With various comments and digressions,<br>I will not sweat that mere connexion<br>Will guard the husband's warm affection;<br>And when affection cools, they say<br>The husband's apt to - go astray.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maids, prais'd and flatter'd all their lives,<br>Expect as much when they are wives;<br>And think when husbands cease palav'ring,<br>That love (sweet souls!) is surely wav'ring:<br>Then hey! for pets, and cold distrust,<br>Doubt's sullen brow, and dreams accurst :<br>The game goes on, ma'am's in the dumps,<br>And jealousy at last is trumps.<br>For thee, fair flower! of softest dye,<br>That caught so late each vagrant eye,<br>Still breathing sweets, still blooming gay,<br>Beauteous in winter as in May:<br>For thee this truth the muse has penn'd.<br>The muse - but more thy anxious friend:<br>'Woman's bright charms were giv'n to lure us,<br>They catch, 'tis true; but can't secure us.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sage Solomon, who paints with beauty <br>A virtuous woman's worth and duty,<br>Compares her to a ship of trade,<br>That brings from far her daily bread.<br>This may be true; but as for me,<br>I'll draw a plainer simile,<br>And call a virtuous wife a gem,<br>Which for its worth we ne'er contemn,<br>Though soon its water, size and hue,<br>Grow quite familiar to the view.<br>What then ensues? Why, faith, I'll tell ye;<br>We think of nothing but - the value.<br>Yet take this gem and lay it by <br>From the possessor's careless eye,<br>Conceal its lustre, dazzling bright,<br>From beaming daily on his sight,<br>I'll take you any bet at pleasure,<br>Whene'er he views this tempting treasure,<br>With eager bliss and sparkling eyes<br>He'll mark each new-born charm arise,<br>And with the joy of first possession,<br>Admire and rave sans intermission!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> If women, therefore, would be wise,<br>Instead of murmurs, tears and sighs,<br>And sullen moods, and scolding frays,<br>When lovie's absent for some days,<br>Let ev'ry female art conspire<br>To drive him from the parlour fire.<br>Of all the plagues in wedded life,<br>To teaze or to torment a wife,<br>There's none more likely to increase<br>The bane of matrimonial peace, <br>Than the tame husband always by<br>With prying and suspicious eye.<br>Mark then, when * * * * goes to town,<br>Smile thou, when other wives would frown;<br>He only goes (nay, don't be angry)<br>To take a walk to make him hungry;<br>To taste awhile, unknown to care,<br>A change of exercise and air;<br>Observe the pert, the bold, the witty<br>How diff'rent from his own sweet Betty!<br>Return impatient to his home,<br>No husband, but a fond bridegroom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lastly, Eliza, let me say<br>That wives should rather yield than sway;<br>To thwart a husband's fixt opinion <br>Is not the way to gain dominion,<br>For kisses order, tears reprove,<br>And teach us rev'rence, fear and love!<br>O! born to soothe and guide the heart<br>With native softness, void of art!<br>Thou, whom nor pride nor fashion sways,<br>Unchang'd by flatt'ry's giddy praise;<br>And thou to whom a trem'lous youth<br>First spoke the tale of love and truth,<br>Blending with passion's fond alarms<br>The bright'ning beam of virtue's charms<br>Ah! lend not now a careless ear!-<br>Yet, yet attend to truth sincere!<br>These lines, at least with smiles receive,<br>The last, perhaps, thy bard shall give.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> While pleasure spreads her gawdy train,<br>To lure the trifling and the vain;<br>While fashion kills the tedious day<br>With shopping, concert, cards, and play;<br>While female love and youth's fair charms<br>Shrink from pure passion's ardent arms,<br>And cling to splendour's fancied bliss,<br>With withering age and wretchedness,<br>Be thine Eliza, more refin'd,<br>The pleasures of the virtuous mind!<br>Be thine the transports of the heart<br>Which love and goodness still impart;<br>The tender glance, the tranquil smile,<br>A husband's sorrows to beguile:<br>The blush of joy divinely meek;<br>That paint's a mother's glowing cheek;<br>The balm that friendship still bestows;<br>The tear that drops for human woes!<br>These, these, Eliza! light the way,<br>And cheer when other charms decay;<br>Conduct through care and worldly gloom, <br>And whisper joys - beyond the tomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Hector+Macneill">Hector Macneill</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=580119" data-title="To Eliza On Her Marriage de Hector Macneill" data-description="You're now, Eliza, fix'd for life;
In other words, you're now - a wife;
And let me whisper in your ear,
A wife, though fix'd, has cause to fear;
For much she risks, and much she loses
If an improper road she choses.
Yet think not that I mean to fr..."></div>
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