To fink this haughty tyrant's pride,
He order'd Fancy to prefide.
Hence when debates on beauty rise,
And each bright fair difputes the prize,
To Fancy's court we strait apply,
And wait the fentence of her eye;

In Beauty's realms fhe holds the feals,
And her awards preclude appeals.

THE

I

THE FA N.

By Mr. GAY. Book. I.

SING that graceful toy, whofe waving play

With gentle gales relieves the fultry day,
Not the wide fan by Persian dames display'd,
Which o'er their beauty cafts a grateful fhade;
Nor that long known in China's artful land,
Which, while it cools the face, fatigues the hand :
Nor fhall the mufe in Afian climates rove,
To feek in Indoftan some spicy grove,
Where ftretch'd at ease the panting lady lies,
To fhun the fervor of meridian skies,

While sweating flaves catch ev'ry breeze of air,
And with wide-spreading fans refresh the fair;
No bufy gnats her pleafing dreams moleft,
Inflame her cheek, or ravage o'er her breast.
But artificial zephyrs round her fly,

And mitigate the fever of the sky.

Stay, wand'ring muse, nor rove in foreign climes, To thy own native shore confine thy rhymes. Affift, ye nine, your loftieft notes employ, Say what celestial skill contriv'd the toy; Say how this inftrument of love began, And in immortal ftrains display the fan. Strephon had long confefs'd his am'rous pain, Which gay Corinna rally'd with difdain:

Sometimes

Sometimes in broken words he figh'd his care, Look'd pale, and trembled when he view'd the fair ; With bolder freedoms now the youth advanc'd, He drefs'd, he laugh'd, he fung, he rhym'd, he danc'd: Now call'd more pow'rful presents to his aid, And, to feduce the mistress, brib'd the maid; Smooth flatt'ry in her softer hours apply'd, The fureft charm to bind the force of pride: But ftill unmov'd remains the scornful dame, Infults her captive, and derides his flame. When Strephon faw his vows difpers'd in air, He fought in folitude to lose his care; * Relief in folitude he fought in vain, It ferv'd, like mufic, but to feed his pain. .To Venus now the flighted boy complains, And calls the goddess in these tender strains.

O potent queen, from Neptune's empire sprung,
Whose glorious birth admiring Nereids fung,
Who 'midst the fragrant plains of Cyprus rove,
Whose radiant presence gilds the Paphian grove,
Where to thy name a thousand altars rise,

And curling clouds of incense hide the skies:
O beauteous Goddefs, teach me how to move,
Infpire my tongue with eloquence of love.
If loft Adonis e'er thy bofom warm'd,

If e'er his eyes, or godlike figure charm'd,
Think on those hours when first you felt the dart,
Think on the restless fever of thy heart;

"Bleft ftate! where fouls each other draw,

"Where love is liberty and law !"
The choiceft bleffing found below,
That man can wish, or heaven bestow!
Truft me, these raptures are divine,
For lovely Chloe once was mine!
Nor fear the varnish of my ftile,
Tho' poet, I'm eftrang'd to guile..
Ah me! my faithful lips impart
The genuine language of my heart!
When bards extol their patrons high,

Perhaps 'tis gold extorts the lye;
Perhaps the poor reward of bread-
But who burns incenfe to the dead!
He, whom a fond affection draws,
Careless of cenfure, or applause ;
Whofe foul is upright and fincere,

With nought to with, and nought to fear.
Now to my vifionary scheme,

Attend, and profit by my dream.
Amidst the flumbers of the night

A ftately temple 'rose to fight;
And ancient as the human race,
If Nature's purposes you trace.
This fane, by all the wife rever'd,

To Wedlock's pow'rful God was rear'd..
Hard by I faw a graceful fage,

His locks were frofted o'er by age;.

His garb was plain, his mind ferene,

And wisdom dignify'd his mien.

With curious search his name I fought,
And found 'twas Hymen's fav'rite-Thought.
Apace the giddy crowds advance,
And a lewd fatyr led the dance;

I griev'd to see whole thousands run,
For oh! what thousands are undone !
The fage, when these mad troops he fpy'd,
In pity flew to join their fide;
The difconcerted pairs began

To rail against him to a man ;

Vow'd they were strangers to his name,
Nor knew from whence the dotard came.
But mark the fequel-for this truth
Highly concerns impetuous youth:
Long ere the honey moon cou'd wane,
Perdition feiz'd on ev'ry twain ;
At ev'ry house, and all day long,
Repentance ply'd her scorpion thong;
Difgust was there with frowning mien,
And ev'ry wayward child of spleen.
Hymen approach'd his aweful fane,
Attended by a numʼrous train :
Love with each foft and nameless grace,
Was first in favour and in place:
Then came the God with folemn gait,
Whofe ev'ry word was big with fate;