Begin, our Nation's Pleasure and Reproach!
Britain no more with idle Trills debauch;
Back to thy own unmanly Venice sail.
Where Luxury and loose Desires prevail;
There thy Emasculating Voice employ,
And raise the Triumphs of the Wanton Boy.
Long, ah! too long the soft Enchantment reign'd,
Seduc'd the Wise, and ev'n the Brave enchain'd;
Hence with thy Curst deluding Song! away!
Shall British Freedom thus become thy Prey?
Freedom, which we so dearly us'd to Prize,
We scorn'd to yield it--But to British Eyes.
Assist, ye Gales; with expeditious Care,
Waft this prepost'rous Idol of the Fair;
Consent, ye Fair, and let the Trifler go,
Nor bribe with Wishes adverse Winds to blow:
Nonsense grew pleasing by his Syren Arts,
And stole from Shakespear's self our easie Hearts.
Around this time we find Anne writing much pointed satiric verse -- as in her verses to Pope, "Disarm'd with so genteel an air." She was very much involved in the public world of London from 1709 through 1714.