« AnteriorContinuar »
Now glaring fiends, and snakes on rolling spires,
Unnumber'd throngs on ev'ry fide are seen, Of bodies chang'd to various forms by Spleen. Here living Tea-pots ftand, one arm held out, One bent; the handle this, and that the spout: A Pipkin there, like Homer's Tripod walks ; 51 Here fighs a Jar, and there a Goose-pye talks ; Men prove with child, as pow'rful fancy works, And maids turn'd bottles, call aloud for corks.
Safe past the Gnome thro' this fantastic band, A branch of healing Spleenwort in his hand. Then thus addrefs'd the pow'r-Hail wayward Queen!
Who rule the sex to fifty from fifteen:
Parent of vapours and of female wit,
Who give th' hyfteric, or poetic fit,
A nymph there is, that all thy pow'r disdains, 65 And thousands more in equal mirth maintains.
VER. 51. Homer's Tripod walks ;] See Hom, Iliad xviii. of Vulcan's walking Tripods.
VER. 52, and there a Goofe-pye talks.] Alludes to a real fact, a Lady of diftinction imagin'd herself in this condition. P..
But oh! if e'er thy Gnome could fpoil a grace,
Which not the tears of brightest eyes could cafe:
Seems to reject him, tho' fhe grants his pray'r. 80.
Soft forrows, melting griefs, and flowing tears.
Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound.
O wretched maid! fhe fpread her hands, and cry'd, (While Hampton's echoes, wretched maid! reply'd) Was it for this you took fuch conftant care
The bodkin, comb, and effence to prepare ?
For this your locks in paper durance bound,
She faid; then raging to Sir Plume repairs,
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 snuff-box open'd, then the case,
And thus broke out-" My Lord, why, what the "devil?
« Z-ds! 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 rapp'd his box. İt grieves me much (reply'd the Peer again) Who fpeaks fo well fhould ever fpeak in vain. But by this Lock, this facred Lock I fwear, (Which never more shall 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 nostrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear. He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread The long-contended honours of her head.
But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not so ; 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:
VER. 141. But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not fo; He breaks the Vial whence the forrows flow.] These two lines are additional; and aflign the cause 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.
VER. 133. But by this Lock,] In allufion to Achilles's
oath in Homer, II. i. P.
For ever curs'd be this detefted day,
If Hampton-Court thefe eyes had never feen!
In fome lone ifle, or distant Northern land;
What mov'd my mind with youthful Lords to roam?
Nay Poll fat mute, and Shock was most unkind!