Of thefe the chief the care of nations own, To draw fresh colours from the vernal flow'rs; This day black omens threat the brighteft fair [fall. To fifty chofen Sylphs, of special note, We trust th' important charge, the Petticoat: Oft have we known that feven-fold fence to fail, Tho' ftiff with hoops,and arm'd with ribs of whale: Form a strong line about the filver bound, And guard the wide circumference around. Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, His poft neglects, or leaves the fair at large, Shall feel fharp vengeance foon o'ertake his fins, Be ftopp'd in vials, or transfix'd with pins; Or plung'd in lakes of bitter washes lie, Or wedg'd whole ages in a bodkin's eye: Gums and pomatums fhall his flight reftrain, While clogg'd he beats his filken wings in vain; Or alum ftyptics with contracting pow'r Shrink his thin effence like a fhrivell'd flow'r: Or, as Ixion fix'd, the wretch thall feel The giddy motion of the whirling mill; In fumes of burning chocolate fhall glow, And tremble at the fea that froths below! He fpoke; the fpirits from the fails defcend; Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend; Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair; Some hang upon the pendants of her ear; With beating hearts the dire event they wait, Anxious, and trembling for the birth of Fate. CANTO III. CLOSE by thofe meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs, Where Thames with pride furveys his rifing tow'rs, There ftands a structure of majestic frame, [name. Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its Here Britain's ftatefmen oft the fall foredoom | Snuff, or the fan, fupply each paufe of chat; Meanwhile, declining from the noon of day, The fun obliquely fhoots his burning ray; The hungry judges foon the fentence fign, And wretches hang, that jurymen may dine; The merchant from th' Exchange returns in peace, And the long labours of the toilet ceafe. Belinda now, whom thirft of fame invites, Burns to encounter two advent'rous knights At ombre fingly to decide their doom; And fwells her breaft with conquefts yet to come. Straight the three bands prepare in arms to join, Each band the number of the facred nine. Soon as the fpreads her hand, th' aëtial guard Defcend, and fit on each important card: Firft Ariel perch'd upon a matadore, Then each according to the rank they bore; For Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient race, Are, as when women, wondrous fond of place. Behold, four kings in majefty rever'd, With hoary whiskers and a forky beard; And four fair queens whofe hands fuftain a flow'r, Th' expreffive emblem of their fofter pow'r; Four knaves in garbs fuccinct, a trusty band, Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand; And party-colour'd troops, a fhining train, Drawn forth to combat on the velvet plain. The skilful nymph reviews her force with care: Let Spades be trumps! fhe faid, and trumps they were. Now move to war her fable matadores, Led off two captive trumps, and fwept the board. VARIATION. In various talk the cheerful hours they pafs'd, Of, who was bit, or who capotted laft. Thus Thus far both armies to Belinda yield; Now to the Baron fate inclines the field. His warlike Amazon her hoft invades, Th'imperial confort of the crown of Spades. The Club's black tyrant first her victim died, Spite of his haughty mien, and barb'rous pride: What boots the regal circle on his head; His giant limbs, in ftate unwieldy spread; That long behind he trails his pompous robe, And, of all monarchs, only grafps the globe? The Baron now his Diamonds pours apace; Th'embroider'd King who fhews but half his face, And his refulgent Queen, with pow'rs combin'd, Of broken troops an easy conquest find. Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts, in wild diforder feen, With throngs promifcuous ftrow the level green. Thus when difpers'd a routed army runs, Of Afia's troops, and Afric's fable fons, With like confufion diff'rent nations fly, Of various habit, and of various dye; The pierc'd battalions difunited fall In heaps on heaps; one fate o'erwhelms them all. At this, the blood the virgin's cheek forfook; He fprings to vengeance with an eager pace, O thoughtless mortals! ever blind to fate, Too foon dejected, and too foon elate. Sudden thefe honours fhall be fnatch'd away, And curs'd for ever this victorious day. For, lo! the board with cups and fpoons is crown'd, The berries crackle, and the mill turns round: On fhining altars of Japan they raise The filver lamp; the fiery fpirits blaze: From filver spouts the grateful liquors glide, While China's earth receives the fmoking tide: At once they gratify their fcent and taste, And frequent cups prolong the rich repast. Straight hover round the Fair her airy band: Some, as the fipp'd, the fuming liquor fann'd; Some o'er her lap their careful plumes difplay'd, Trembling, and confcious of the rich brocade. Coffee (which makes the politician wife, And fee thro' all things with his half-fhut eyes) Sent up in vapours to the Baron's brain New ftratagems, the radiant Lock to gain. Ah ceafe, rafh youth! defift ere 'tis too late, Fear the juft Gods, and think of Scylla's fate! Chang'd to a bird, and sent to flit in air, But when to mischief mortals bend their will, The Peer now fpreads the glitt 'ring forfex wide, T'inclofe the Lock; now joins it to divide. Ev'n then, before the fatal engine clos'd, A wretched Sylph too fondly interpos'd; Fate urg'd the theers, and cut the Sylph in twain, But airy fubftance foon unites again : The meeting points the facred hair diffever From the fair head, for ever, and for ever! Then flash'd the living lightning from her eyes, And fcreams of horror rend th' affrighted skies. Not louder fhricks to pitying heaven are caft When husbands or when lapdogs breathe their last; Or when rich China veffels, fallen from high, In glitt'ring duft and painted fragments lie! Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,. The Victor cried; the glorious prize is mine! While fish in ftreams, or birds delight in air, Or in a coach and fix the British Fair, As long as Atalantis fhall be read, Or the fmall pillow grace a Lady's bed; While vifits shall be paid on folemn days, When num'rous wax-lights in bright order blaze; While nymphs take treats, or affignations give, So long my honour, name, and praise fhall live! What Time would spare, from Steel receives its And monuments, like men, fubmit to fate! [date, Steel could the labour of the Gods destroy, And strike to duft th' imperial tow'rs of Troy; Steel could the works of mortal pride confound, And hew triumphal arches to the ground. What wonder then, fair Nymph! thy hairs fhould The conq'ring force of unrefifted steel? [feel CANTO IV. BUT anxious cares the penfive nymphopprefs'd, And fecret paffions labour'd in her breast. VARIATION. As o'er the fragrant steam she bends her head, First he expands the glitt'ring forfex wide T'inclofe the Lock; then joins it to divide The meeting points the facred hair diffever From the fair head, for ever and for ever Not Not youthful kings in battle feiz'd alive, noons, Her hand is fill'd; her bofom with lampoons. Unnumber'd throngs on ev'ry fide are seen Who rule the fex to fifty from fifteen: On various tempers act, by various ways, A Nymph there is that all thy pow'r difdains, Sunk in Thaleftris' arms the Nymph he found, Men, monkeys, lapdogs, parrots, perish all! VARIATION. While her rack'd foul repofe and peace requires, The fierce Thalestris fans the rifing fires. She She faid; then raging to Sir Plume repairs, And bids her beau demand the precious hairs (Sir Plume of amber fnuff-box juttly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded canc): With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, He first the inuff-box open'd, then the cafe, And thus broke out-" My Lord, why, what the "devil! ["be civil! "Z-ds! damn the Lock! 'fore Gad, you muft "Plague on't! 'tis paft a jeft-nay, prithee, pox! "Give her the hair !"-he spoke, and rapp'd his box. It grieves me much (replied the Peer again) Who fpeaks fo well thould ever speak in vain; But by this Lock, this facred Lock, I swear (Which never more fhall 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, thall 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-languithing, half-drown'd in tears; On her heav'd bolom hung her drooping head, Which with a figh fhe rais'd, and thus the faid: For ever curs'd be this detefted day, Which fnatch'd my beft, my fav'rite curl away! Happy, ah ten times happy, had I been, If Hampton-Court thefe eyes had never feen! Yet am not I the first miftaken maid By love of courts to num'rous ills betray'd. Oh had I rather unadmir'd remain'd In fome lone ifle, or diftant northern land; Where the gilt chariot never marks the way, Where none learn Ombre, none e'er tafte bohea! There kept my charms conceal'd from mortal eye, Like roles that in defarts bloom and die. What mov'd my mind with youthful lords to roam? O had I ftay'd, and faid my pray'rs at home! 'Twas this the morning omens feem'd to tell: Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell; The tott'ring China fhook without a wind; Nay Poll fat mute, and Shock was moft 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 thefe flighted hairs! My hands fhall rend what ev'n thy rapine fpares: Thefe, in two fable ringlets taught to break, Once gave new beauties to the fnowy neck; The filter lock now fits uncouth, alone, And in its fellow's fate forefees its own; Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal fheers demands, And tempts once more thy facrilegious hands. Oh hadft thou, cruel! been content to feize Hairs lefs in fight, or any hairs but these ! CANTO V. SHE faid the pitying audience meit in tears; Put Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's cars. Jn vain Thaleftris with reproach affails; For who can move when fair Belinda fails? Not half fo fix'd the Trojan could remain, Say, why are beauties prais'd and honour'd moft, Or who would learn one earthly thing of ufe? Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage, While thro' the prefs enrag'd Thaleftris flies, And fcatters deaths around from both her eyes, A beau and witling perifh'd in the throng; One died in metaphor, and one in fong. "O cruel nymph! a living death I bear,” Cried Dapperwit, and funk befide his chair. A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards caft; "Thofe eyes are made fo killing!”—was his last. Thus on Mæander's flow'ry margin lies Th' expiring Swan, and as he fings he dies. When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clariffa down, Chloe ftepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown; She fmil'd to fee the doughty hero flain; But, at her fmile, the beau reviv'd again. Now Jove fufpends his golden fcales in air, Weighs the men's wits against the lady's hair; The doubtful beam long nods from fide to fide; At length the wits mount up, the hairs fubfide. See fierce 'Belinda on the Baron flies, With more than ufual lightning in her eyes: Nor fear'd the chief th' unequal fight to try, Who fought no more than on his foe to die. But this bold lord, with manly strength endued, Site with one finger and a thumb fuodued: Juft where the breath of life his noftrils drew, A charge of fauff the wily virgin threw; The Gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just, The pungent grains of titillating duft. Sudden with farting tears each eye o'erflows, And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. Now mect thy fate, incens'd Belinda cried, And drew a deadly bodkin from her fide (The fame, his ancient perfonage to deck, Her great-great-grandfire wore about his neck, In three feal rings; which, after melted down, Form'd a vaft buckle for his widow's gown: Her infant grandame's whiftle next it grew, The bells the jingled, and the whistle blew ; Then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs, Which long the wore, and now Belinda wears). Boaft not my fall, he cried, infulting foe! Thou by fome other fhalt be laid as low: Nor think, to die dejects my lofty mind; All that I dread is leaving you behind! Rather than fo, ah let me ftill furvive, And burn in Cupid's flames-but burn alive. Reftore the Lock! fhe cries; and all around Reftore the Lock! the vaulted roofs rebound. Not fierce Othello in fo loud a strain Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain. But fee how oft ambitious aims are crofs'd, And chiefs contend till all the prize is loft! The Lock, obtain'd with guilt, and kept with pain, In ev'ry place is fought, but fought in vain: With fuch a prize no mortal mutt be bleft, So Heaven decrees! with Heaven who can conteft? Some thought it mounted to the Lunar fphere, Since all things loft on earth are treafur'd there. There heroes wits are kept in pond'rous vales, And beaux in fnuff-boxes and tweezer-cafes. There broken vows and death-bed alms are found, And lovers hearts with ends of ribband bound; The courtier's promifes, and fick man's pray'rs, The fmiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs, Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea, Dried butterflies, and tomes of cafuistry. But truft the Mufe-the faw it upward rife, To Proculus alone confefs'd in view. The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, Then ceafe, bright Nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd hair, Which adds new glory to the fhining sphere! $9. Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. POP.E. WHAT beck'ning ghoft, along the moonlight fhade, Invites my fteps, and points to yonder glade ? Why bade ye elfe, ye pow'rs! her foul aspire But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good, Thou mean deferter of thy brother's blood! See on thefe ruby lips the trembling breath, Thefe checks, now fading at the blaft of death; Cold is that breaft which warm'd the world before, And thofe love-darting eyes must roll no more. Thus, if eternal Juftice rules the ball, Thus fhall your wives and thus your children fall: On all the fine a fudden vengeance waits, And frequent hearfes fhall befiege your gates; There paifengers fhall ftand; and, pointing, fay (While the long fun'rals blacken all the way), Lof |