The
Invocation
.
With
some
auspicious
Aid
ye
Pow'rs
above
,
Help
to
support
the
weight
of
slighted
Love
.
I
ask
not
Rage
to
curse
the
daring
Man
;
That
by
Instinctive
Power
all
Women
can
,
But
keep
me
mild
as
when
Love
first
began
.
'Tis
the
malignancy
of
low
desire
,
That
with
neglect
turns
to
revengeful
Fire
:
But
my
great
Passion
,
like
Æthereal
Flame
,
Without
Supply
can
ever
burn
the
same
;
Love
glows
in
every
Atom
of
my
Frame
.
Sparkles
in
every
Thought
,
flames
at
my
Heart
,
Like
the
extensive
Soul
it
does
exert
;
'Tis
all
in
all
,
and
all
in
every
part
.
From
his
cold
Breast
no
languid
warmth
I
want
,
His
Fires
when
at
their
height
to
mine
are
faint
,
Yet
my
hard
Fate
forces
this
soft
Complaint
.
That
so
much
Truth
is
unreguarded
lost
,
And
we
have
least
when
we
deserve
it
most
.
Oh
!
was
I
fickle
as
the
restless
Wind
,
Or
as
the
wiser
part
of
Woman-kind
:
Then
for
the
Charmer
I'd
no
longer
mourn
,
But
treat
his
Negligence
with
equal
Scorn
.
He
should
no
more
my
slighted
Favours
wear
,
But
from
the
sighing
Crowd
that
deaf
my
Ear
,
I'd
choose
some
kinder
Youth
and
fix
'em
there
.
But
oh
!
my
tender
Soul
too
weak
does
prove
,
Either
to
change
or
bear
the
force
of
Love
;
Too
sure
'tis
doom'd
by
my
relentless
Fate
That
I
must
love
and
sink
beneath
the
weight
.