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For this your locks in paper durance bound,
For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around?
For this with fillets ftrain'd your tender head,
And bravely bore the double loads of lead?
Gods! fhall the ravisher display your hair,
While the Fops envy, and the Ladies stare!
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 fhall I, then, your helpless fame defend?
'Twill then be infamy to feem your friend!
And fhall this prize, th' inestimable prize,
Expos'd thro' 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, sea, 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 snuff-box justly vain,
And the nice conduct of a clouded cane)

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With

VER 121. Sir Plume repairs,] Sir George Brown. He was the only one of the Party who took the thing feriously. He was angry, that the Poet fhould make him talk nothing but nonfense; and, in truth, one could not well blame him.

With earneft eyes, and round unthinking face, 125 He first the fnuff-box open'd, then the case,

And thus broke out-" My Lord, why, what the "devil?

ac Z-ds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be " civil!

"Plague on't! 'tis past a jeft-nay prithee, pox! "Give her the hair" he spoke, and rapp'd his box.

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İt grieves me much (reply'd the Peer again) Who fpeaks fo well should 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, 135 Clip'd from the lovely head where late it grew) That while my noftrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, fhall for ever wear. He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread The long-contended honours of her head.

140

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, she rais'd; and thus she said:

For

VER. 141. But Umbriel, bateful Gnome! forbears not fo; He breaks the Vial whence the forrows flow.] These two lines are additional; and aflign the caufe of the different operation on the Paffions of the two Ladies. The poem went on before without that diftinction, as without any Machinery to the end of the Canto.

IMITATIONS.

P.

VER. 133. But by this Lock,] In allufion to Achilles's oath in Homer, II. i. P.

For ever curs'd be this detested day,

Which snatch'd my best, my fav'rite curl away!
Happy! ah ten times happy had I been,

If Hampton-Court thefe eyes had never seen! 150
Yet am not I the first mistaken maid

By love of Courts to num'rous ills betray'd,
Oh had I rather un-admir'd remain'd

In fome lone ifle, or diftant Northern land;
Where the gilt Chariot never marks the way, 156
Where none learn Ombre, none e'er taste Bohea!
There kept my charms conceal'd from mortal eye,
Like roses, that in deserts 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! 160
'Twas this, the morning omens feem'd to tell,
Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell
The tott'ring China shook without a wind,
Nay Poll fat mute, and Shock was most unkind!
A Sylph too warn'd me of the threats of fate, 165
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 fheers demands,
And tempts once more, thy facrilegious hands.
Oh hadft thou, cruel! been content to seize
Hairs lefs in fight, or any hairs but these !

170

175

THE

THE

RAPE of the LOCK.

CANTO V.

HE faid the pitying audience melt in tears.

SHR

But Fate and Jove had ftopp'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 enfu'd, and thus the nymph began.

5

Say why are Beauties prais'd and honour'd most, The wife man's paffion, and the vain man's toast ? Why

VARIATIONS.

VER. 7. Then grave Clarissa, etc.] 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.

IMITATIONS.

VER. 9. Say why are Beauties, etc.]

P.

Why boaft we, Glaucus! our extended reign,
Where Xanthus ftreams enrich the Lycian plain ;
Our num'rous herds that range the fruitful field,
And bills where vines their purple barveft yield;
Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd,
Our feafts enhanc'd with mufic's Sprightly found;

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Why

Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford,
Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd?
Why round our coaches croud the white-glov'd
Beaux,

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Why bows, the fide-box from its inmost rows?
How vain are all these glories, all our pains,
Unless good fenfe preserve what beauty gains:
That men may fay, when we the front-box grace,
Behold the firft in virtue as in face!

Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old age away;
Who would not scorn what housewife's cares pro-
duce,

Or who would learn one earthly thing of use?
To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint,
Nor could it fure be fuch a fin to paint.

Why on thofe fhores are we with joy furwey'd ;
Admir'd as heroes, and as Gods obey'd;
Unless great acts fuperior merit prove,
And vindicate the bounteous pow'rs above?
'Tis ours, the dignity they give, to grace;
The firft in valour, as the first in place :
That when with wond ring eyes our martial bands
Behold our deeds tranfcending our commands,
Such, they may cry, deferve the fov'reign state,
Whom those that envy, dare not imitate;
Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
Which claims no lefs the fearful than the brave,
For luft of fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting fields, nor urge thy foul to war.
But fince, alas! ignoble age must come,
Difeafe, and death's inexorable doom;
The life which others pay, let us beftor,
And give to fame what we to nature owe;
Brave tho' we fall, and honour'd if we live,
Or let us glory gain, or glory give.
M

VOL. I.

But

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