A nymph there is that all thy power disdains, 65 And thousands more in equal mirth maintains. But oh! if e'er thy gnome could spoil a grace, Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face, Like citron-waters matrons' cheeks inflame, Or change complexions at a losing game; 70 If e'er with airy horns I planted heads, Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds, Or caused suspicion when no soul was rude, Or discomposed the head-dress of a prude, Or e'er to costive lap-dog gave disease, 75 Which not the tears of brightest eyes could ease: Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin; That single act gives half the world the spleen." The goddess with a discontented air Seems to reject him, though she grants his prayer. 80 A wondrous bag with both her hands she binds, Like that where once Ulysses held the winds: Of bodies changed to various forms by There she collects the force of female lungs, And thus broke out-"My lord-why- Like roses, that in deserts bloom and die. What moved my mind with youthful lords to roam? what the devil! Zounds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil! Plague on't! 'tis past a jest-nay, prithee, pox! Give her the hair."-He spoke, and rapped his box. 130 "It grieves me much," replied the peer again, "Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain. But by this lock, this sacred lock, I swear, (Which never more shall join its parted hair, See the poor remnants of these slighted Who would not scorn what housewife's hairs! cares produce, Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, And she who scorns a man must die a maid; What then remains but well our power to use, Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!" And keep good humor still whate'er we And trust me, dear, good humor can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul." So spoke the dame, but no applause ensued; 35 Belinda frowned, Thalestris called her prude. "To arms, to arms!" the fierce virago cries, And swift as lightning to the combat flies. All side in parties, and begin th' attack; Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack; 40 Heroes' and heroines' shouts confusedly rise, And bass and treble voices strike the skies. No common weapons in their hands are found; Like gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. So when bold Homer makes the gods engage, 45 And heavenly breasts with human passions rage; 'Gainst Pallas, Mars; Latona, Hermes Earth shakes her nodding towers, the The gnomes direct, to every atom just, ground gives way, The pungent grains of titillating dust. And the pale ghosts start at the flash of Sudden with starting tears each eye o'erday! flows, 85 And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. "Now meet thy fate," incensed Belinda cried, And scatters death around from both her Formed a vast buckle for his widow's eyes, A beau and witling perished in the throng, One died in metaphor, and one in song. 60 "O cruel nymph! a living death I bear," Cried Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair. A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, "Those eyes are made so killing"-was his last. Thus on Mæander's flowery margin lies 65 Th' expiring swan, and as he sings he dies. When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, Chloe stepped in, and killed him with a frown; She smiled to see the doughty hero slain, But, at her smile, the beau revived again. Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air, 71 Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears.) "Boast not my fall," he cried, "insulting foe! Thou by some other shalt be laid as low; Nor think to die dejects my lofty mind: All that I dread is leaving you behind! 100 Rather than so, ah, let me still survive, And burn in Cupid's flames-but burn alive." "Restore the lock!" she cries; and all around "Restore the lock!" the vaulted roofs rebound. Weighs the men's wits against the lady's Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain 105 Roared for the handkerchief that caused his pain. hair; The doubtful beam long nods from side to side; At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. See, fierce Belinda on the Baron flies, 75 With more than usual lightning in her eyes; Nor feared the chief th' unequal fight to try, Who sought no more than on his foe to die. But this bold lord, with manly strength So Heaven decrees! With Heaven who can There heroes' wits are kept in ponderous When those fair suns shall set, as set they Mall survey, And hail with music its propitious ray; This the blest lover shall for Venus take, 135 And send up vows from Rosamonda's lake. This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies, When next he looks through Galileo's eyes; And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. 140 Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. 145 For, after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man; 5 A mighty maze! but not without a plan; A wild, where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot; Or garden, tempting with forbidden fruit. Together let us beat1 this ample field, Try what the open, what the covert yield; The latent tracts, the giddy heights, explore II Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where |