Honour but an empty bubble, Never ending, still beginning, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause ; So Love was crown'd, but Musique won the cause. Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, 6. Now strike the golden lyre again; A lowder yet, and yet a lowder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, 100 And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battail were slayn, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain; Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods. The princes applaud with a furious joy; And the king seyz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy ; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Hellen, fir'd another Troy. Thus long ago, 7. 'Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre, Cou'd swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown: She drew an angel down. 140 POPE. RAPE OF THE LOCK. CANTO I. WHAT dire offence from am'rous causes springs, Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel O say what stranger cause, yet unexplor'd, Cou'd make a gentle Belle reject a Lord? In tasks so bold, can little men engage? "Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care Of thousand bright Inhabitants of Air! 5 10 15 20 25 If e'er one vision touch'd thy infant thought, Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught- The silver token, and the circled green, Or virgins visited by Angel pow'rs, With golden crowns and wreaths of heav'nly flow'rs Hear and believe! thy own importance know, 35 Nor bound thy narrow views to things below. Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd, These, tho' unseen, are ever on the wing, Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring. 40 45 And once inclos'd in Woman's beauteous mould; Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fled, 50 Succeeding vanities she still regards, And tho' she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards. 55 For when the Fair in all their pride expire, To their first Elements their Souls retire. 60 65 70 |