When Cynthia, Regent of the Tides, <br />Pale in meridian Pride presides; <br />A Sov'reign Pow'r the Goddess claims <br />O'er Seas, and Sea--supplying Streams; <br />The River of the richest Source <br />With Ease she turns, and checks his Course; <br />His crystal Clearness can defile <br />With ev'ry Filth, and Salt as vile; <br />However strong, and smooth, and pure, <br />Her Tyranny he must endure; <br />Till, her Dominion in the Wain, <br />He clears, and is himself again. <br /> <br />Thus, over black, benighted Brains, <br />Fell Envy, baleful Goddess, reigns; <br />O'er mortal Passions, pale, presides; <br />Passions, the Soul's tumultuous Tides; <br />Which, in their fierce, resistless Sway, <br />Invade all Merit in their Way; <br />With Ease the clearest Truths confute, <br />With Ease the purest Worth pollute; <br />Check ev'ry Virtue in its Course, <br />And taint, impetuous, to its Source, <br />The Current of the fairest Fame, <br />By forcing Filth into the Stream. <br /> <br />So are you sully'd for a Season, <br />Till Rage recoils, and yields to Reason: <br />Then turns the Tide--your Credit clears, <br />And all your real Worth appears.<br /><br />Mary Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-lady-who-was-libell-d/
