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Now glaring fiends, and fnakes on rolling fpires,
Pale fpectres, gaping tombs, and purple fires:
Now lakes of liquid gold, Elyfian scenes,
And crystal domes, and Angels in machines.



Unnumber'd throngs on every fide are seen,
Of bodies chang'd to various forms by Spleen.
Here living Tea-pots ftand, one arm held out,
One bent; the handle this, and that the spout:
A Pipkin there, like Homer's Tripod, walks;
Here fighs a jar, and there a goose-pye talks ;
Men prove with child, as powerful fancy works,
And maids, turn'd bottles, call aloud for corks.
Safe paft the Gnome through this fantastic band, 55
A branch of healing Spleen-wort in his hand,
Then thus addrefs'd the Power-Hail, wayward Queen!
Who rule the fex to fifty from fifteen :
Parent of vapours, and of female wit,
Who give the hysteric, or poetic fit,
On various tempers act by various ways,
Make fome take phyfic, others fcribble plays;
Who cause the proud their vifits to delay,
And fend the godly in a pet to pray.

A Nymph there is, that all thy power disdains,
And thousands more in equal mirth maintains.
But, oh! if e'er thy Gnome could spoil a grace,
Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face,
Like Citron-waters matrons cheeks inflame,
Or change complexions at a lofing game;
If e'er with airy horns I planted heads,
Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds,




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Or caus'd fufpicion when no foul was rude,
Or difcompos'd the head-drefs of a Prude,
Or e'er to coftive lap-dog gave disease,


Which not the tears of brightest eyes could eafe :

Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin,
That fingle act gives half the world the spleen.

The Goddess with a discontented air
Seems to reject him, though she grants his prayer.
A wonderous bag with both her hands she binds,
Like that where once Ulyffes held the winds;
There the collects the force of female lungs,
Sighs, fobs, and paffions, and the war of tongues.
A Vial next she fills with fainting fears,
Soft forrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears.
The Gnome rejoicing bears her gifts away,
Spreads his black wings, and flowly mounts to day.
Sunk in Thaleftris' arms the Nymph he found,
Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.

Full o'er their heads the swelling bag he rent,
And all the Furies iffued at the vent.
Belinda burns with more than mortal ire,
And fierce Thaleftris fans the rifing fire.

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O wretched maid! fhe fpread her hands, and cry'd, 95
(While Hampton's echoes, wretched maid! reply'd)
Was it for this you took fuch constant care
The bodkin, comb, and effence, to prepare ?
For this your locks in paper durance bound,
For this with torturing irons wreath'd around?
For this with fillets ftrain'd your tender head,
And bravely bore the double loads of lead!
L &



Gods! fhall the ravisher display your hair,
While the Fops envy, and the Ladies ftare!
Honour forbid! at whofe unrival'd fhrine
Eafe, pleasure, virtue, all our sex refign.
Methinks already I your tears furvey,
Already hear the horrid things they say,
Already fee you a degraded toast,
And all your honour in a whisper loft!
How shall I, then, your helpless fame defend?
'Twill then be infamy to seem your friend!
And shall this prize, the inestimable prize,
Expos'd through crystal to the gazing eyes,
And heighten'd by the diamond's circling rays,
On that rapacious hand for ever blaze!
Sooner fhall grafs in Hyde-park Circus grow,
And wits take lodgings in the found of Bow!
Sooner let earth, air, fea, to Chaos fall,
Men, monkeys, lap-dogs, parrots, perish all!





She faid; then raging to Sir Plume repairs, And bids her Beau demand the precious hairs: (Sir Plume of amber fnuff-box justly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane) With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, He first the snuff-box open'd, then the case, And thus broke out- "My Lord, why, what the



"Z-ds! damn the Lock! 'fore Gad, you must be

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Plague on't! 'tis past a jest-nay pr'ythee, pox!
Give her the hair"-he fpoke, and rapp'd his box.

It grieves me much (reply'd the Peer again)
Who speaks fo well should ever speak in vain,
But by this Lock, this facred Lock, I swear,
(Which never more shall join its parted hair;
Which never more its honours fhall renew,
Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew)
That while my noftrils draw the vital air,
This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.
He fpoke, and, fpeaking, in proud triumph fpread
The long-contended honours of her head.

But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not fo;
He breaks the Vial whence the forrows flow.
Then fee! the Nymph in beauteous grief appears,
Her eyes half-languishing, half-drown'd in tears;
On her heav'd bofom hung her drooping head,
Which, with a figh, fhe rais'd; and thus fhe faid:
For ever curfed be this detested day,
Which fnatch'd my beft, my favorite curl away!
Happy! ah ten times happy had I been,




If Hampton-Court these eyes had never seen!
Yet am not I the first mistaken maid


By love of courts to numerous ills betray'd.
Oh had I rather unadmir'd remain'd

In fome lone ifle, or distant northern land;
Where the gilt Chariot never marks the way,
Where none learn Ombre, none e'er taste Bohea!
There kept my charms conceal'd from mortal eye,
Like roses, that in deferts bloom and die.
What mov'd my mind with youthful Lords to roam?
Oh I had stay'd, and faid my prayers at home!

L 3




'Twas this, the morning omens seem'd to tell,
Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell
The tottering China fhook without a wind,
Nay Poll fat mute, and Shock was most unkind!
A Sylph too warn'd me of the threats of Fate,
In myftic vifions, now believ'd too late!
See the poor remnants of these flighted hairs!
My hands fhall rend what ev'n thy rapine spares:
These in two fable ringlets taught to break,

Once gave new beauties to the fnowy neck;
The fifter-lock now fits uncouth, alone,
And in its fellow's fate forefees its own;
Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal sheers demands,
And tempts, once more, thy facrilegious hands.
Oh hadft thou, cruel! been content to feize
Hairs less in fight, or any hairs but these!



HE faid the pitying audience melt in tears;


But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's ears.

In vain Thaleftris with reproach affails,

For who can move when fair Belinda fails?
Not half fo fix'd the Trojan could remain,
While Anna begg'd and Dido rag'd in vain.
Then grave Clariffa graceful wav'd her fan ;
Silence enfued, and thus the Nymph began..







Ver. 7. Then grave Clariffa, &c.] A new Character introduced in the fubfequent editions, to open more clearly the MORAL of the Poem, in a Parody of the fpeech of Sarpedon to Glaucus in Homer.

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