He takes the gift with rev'rence, and extends
The little engine on his finger's ends:
This juft behind Belinda's neck he spread,
As o'er the fragrant ftreams fhe bends her head.
Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair,
A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair;
And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear;
Thrice the look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near.
Juk in that inftant, anxious Ariel fought
The clofe receffes of the virgin's thought;
As on the nofegay in her breast reclin'd,
He watch'd th' ideas rifing in her mind,
Sudden he view'd, in fpite of all her art,
An earthly lover lurking at her heart.
Amaz'd, confus'd, he found his pow'r expir'd,
Refign'd to fate, and with a figh retir'd.
The Peer now fpreads the glitt'ring Forfex wide,
T'inclose 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 fheers, and cut the Sylph in twain, (* But airy fubftance foon unites again)
See Milton, lib. 6, of Satan cut afunder by the angel Michael.
The meeting points the facred hair diffever
From the fair head, for ever, and for ever!
Then flash'd the livid lightnings from her eyes,
And fereams of horror rend th' affrighted fkies.
Not louder thrieks to pitying heav'n are caft,
When husbands, or when lapdogs breathe their laft;
Or when rich China veffels, fall'n from high,
In glittering dust, and painted fragments lie!
Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,
(The victor cry'd) 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 small pillow grace a lady's bed,
While vifits fhall 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 dive!
What time wou'd fpare, from fteel receives its
date,
And monuments, like men, fubmit to fate!
Steel could the labour of the Gods destroy,
And ftrike 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 conqu'ring force of unrefifted steel?
CITAH
UT anxious cares the penfive nymph oppreft,
B And fecret paffions labour d in her breat
Not youthful Kings in battel feiz'd alive,
Not fcornful virgins who their charms furvive,
Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss,
Not ancient Ladies when refus'd a kiss,
Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,
Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry,
E'er felt fuch rage, refentment and despair,
As thou, fad virgin! for thy ravish'd hair.
For, that fad moment, when the Sylphs withdrew, And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew,
Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite
As ever fully'd the fair face of light,
Down to the central earth, his proper scene,
Repairs to fearch the gloomy cave of Spleen.
Swift on his footy pinions flits the Gname,
And in a vapour reach'd the dismal dome.
No chearful breeze this fullen region knows,
The dreaded Eaft is all the wind that blows.
Here, in a grotto, fhelter'd clofe from air,
And screen'd in fhades from day's detefted glare,
She fighs for ever on her penfive bed
Pain at her fide, and Megrim at her head,
Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place, But diff'ring far in figure and in face.
Here food Ill-nature like an ancient maid,
Her wrinkled form in black and white array'd; With ftore of prayers for mornings, nights, and noons, Her hand is fill'd; her bofom with lampoons.
There Affectation, with a fickly mien, Shows in her cheek the rofes of eighteen, Practis'd to lifp, and hang the head afide, Faints into airs, and languishes with pride; On the rich quilt, finks with becoming woe, Wrapt in a gown, for fickness, and for fhow. The fair ones feel fuch maladies as these, When each new night-dress gives a new disease. A con
|