Who careless, now, of int'reft, fame, or fate, And fure if ought below the feats divine In vain to defarts thy retreat is made; A. POPE. A T A A 1 A Fairy Tale, in the ancient English Style. PAGE I 15, 17 The Vigil of Venus, written in the time of Julius Caefar, and by fome ascribed to Catullus. Part of the first Canto of the Rape of the Lock, with a 29 43 62 66 69 WHAT antient times (thofe times we fancy wife) WHAT Have left on long record of Woman's rife, What morals teach it, and what fables hide, What author wrote it, how that author dy'd, All these I fing. In Greece they fram'd the tale (In Greece, 'twas thought a Woman might be frail. Ye modern beauties! where the poet drew His fofteft pencil, think he dreamt of you; And warn'd by him, ye wanton pens, beware How Heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the fair. The cafe was Hefiod's; he the fable writ; Some think with meaning, fome with idle wit: Perhaps 'tis either, as the ladies please; I wave the contest, and commence the lays. In days of yore, (no matter where or when, 'Twas ere the low creation fwarm'd with men) That one Prometheus, fprung of heav'nly birth, (Our author's fong can witness) liv'd on earth. A He carv'd the turf to mold a manly frame, Oh vers'd in arts! whofe daring thoughts afpire To kindle clay with never dying fire! Enjoy thy glory past, that gift was thine; The next thy creature meets, be fairly mine: As fuits the counsel of a God to find; He faid, and Vulcan strait the fire commands, As Vulcan ends, the chearful Queen of Charms Clafp'd the new panting creature in her arms; From that embrace a fine complexion spread, Where mingled whiteness glow'd with softer red. Then in a kifs fhe breath'd her various arts, Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts; |