Mrs.
BINDON'S
ANSWER
.
WHEN
home
I
return'd
from
the
dancing
last
night
,
And
elate
by
your
praises
attempted
to
write
,
I
familiarly
call'd
on
Apollo
for
aid
,
And
told
him
how
many
fine
things
you
had
said
;
He
smil'd
at
my
folly
,
and
gave
me
to
know
,
Your
wit
,
and
not
mine
,
by
your
writing
you
shew
;
And
then
,
says
the
God
,
still
to
make
you
more
vain
,
He
hath
promis'd
that
I
shall
enlighten
your
brain
,
When
he
knows
in
his
heart
,
if
he
speak
but
his
mind
,
That
no
woman
alive
can
now
boast
I
am
kind
:
For
since
Daphne
to
shun
me
grew
into
a
laurel
,
With
the
sex
I
have
sworn
still
to
keep
up
the
quarrel
.
I
thought
it
all
joke
,
'till
by
writing
to
you
,
I
have
prov'd
his
resentment
,
alas
!
but
too
true
.