Then in a bodkin graced her mother's hairs,
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!
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.
Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain
Roar'd for the handkerchief that caused his pain.
But see how oft ambitious aims are cross'd,
And chiefs contend till all the prize is lost!
The lock, obtain'd with guilt, and kept with pain,
In every place is sought, but sought in vain :
With such a prize no mortal must be blest,
So Heaven decrees! with Heaven who can contest?
Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere,
Since all things lost on earth are treasured there.
There heroes' wits are kept in ponderous vases,
And beaux' in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases.
There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found,
And lovers' hearts with ends of ribbon bound,
The courtier's promises, and sick man's prayers,
The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,
Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea,
Dried butterflies, and tomes of casuistry.

But trust the Muse-she saw it upward rise,
Though mark'd by none but quick, poetic eyes:
(So Rome's great founder to the heavens withdrew,
To Proculus alone confess'd in view)

A sudden star, it shot through liquid air,
And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.

Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright,
The heaven's bespangling with dishevell❜d light.
The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies,

And, pleased, pursue its progress through the skies.
This the beau-monde shall from the Mall survey,
And hail with music its propitious ray.

This the bless'd lover shall for Venus take,

And send up vows from Rosamonda's lake.
This Partridge1 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.

129

140

Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd 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. For, after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, This lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame, And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.

16 Partridge: see Pope's and Swift's Miscellanies.

150

WINDSOR-FOREST.1

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE GEORGE LORD LANSDOWNE.

'Non injussa cano: te nostræ, Vare, myricæ,

Te nemus omne canet; nec Phobo gratior ulla est,
Quam sibi quæ Vari præscripsit pagina nomen.'

VIRG.

THY forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats,
At once the Monarch's and the Muse's seats,
Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan Maids!
Unlock your springs, and open all your shades.
Granville commands; your aid, O Muses, bring!
What Muse for Granville can refuse to sing?

The groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long,
Live in description, and look green in song:
These, were my breast inspired with equal flame,
Like them in beauty, should be like in fame.
Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water seem to strive again;
Not chaos-like, together crush'd and bruised,
But, as the world, harmoniously confused;
Where order in variety we see,

And where, though all things differ, all agree.
Here waving groves a chequer'd scene display,
And part admit, and part exclude the day;

10

This poem was written at two different times: the first part of it, which relates to the country, in the year 1704, at the same time with the Pastorals; the latter part was not added till the year 1713, in which it was published.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 3-6, originally thus:--
Chaste Goddess of the woods,

Nymphs of the vales, and Naïads of the floods,

Lead me through arching bowers, and glimmering glades.

Unlock your springs, &c.

As some coy nymph her lover's warm address
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress.
There, interspersed in lawns and opening glades,
Thin trees arise that shun each other's shades.
Here in full light the russet plains extend:
There, wrapt in clouds the bluish hills ascend.
Ev'n the wild heath displays her purple dyes,
And 'midst the desert fruitful fields arise,

That crown'd with tufted trees and springing corn,
Like verdant isles the sable waste adorn.

Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are born,
And realms commanded which those trees adorn.
Not proud Olympus yields a nobler sight,
Though gods assembled grace his towering height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here,
Where, in their blessings, all those gods appear.
See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd,
Here blushing Flora paints the enamell'd ground,
Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand;
Rich industry sits smiling on the plains,
And

1

peace and plenty tell a Stuart 1 reigns.
Not thus the land appear'd in ages past,
A dreary desert, and a gloomy waste,
To savage beasts and savage laws2 a prey,

And kings more furious and severe than they;

เ

''Stuart:' Queen Anne.-2 Savage laws:' the forest-laws.

19

30

40

VARIATIONS.

VER. 25-28. Originally thus:-
Why should I sing our better suns or air,
Whose vital draughts prevent the leech's care,

F

While through fresh fields the enlivening odours breathe,

Or spread with vernal blooms the purple heath?

Who claim'd the skies, dispeopled air and floods,
The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods:
Cities laid waste, they storm'd the dens and caves,
(For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves).
What could be free, when lawless beasts obey'd,
And even the elements a tyrant sway'd?

In vain kind seasons swell'd the teeming grain,
Soft showers distill'd, and suns grew warm in vain ;
The swain with tears his frustrate labour yields,

And famish'd dies amidst his ripen'd fields.
What wonder, then, a beast or subject slain
Were equal crimes in a despotic reign?
Both doom'd alike, for sportive tyrants bled,
But while the subject starved, the beast was fed.
Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began,
A mighty hunter, and his prey was man :
Our haughty Norman boasts that barbarous name,
And makes his trembling slaves the royal game.
The fields are ravish'd1 from the industrious swains,
From men their cities, and from gods their fanes :
The levell'd towns with weeds lie cover'd o'er;
The hollow winds through naked temples roar ;
Round broken columns clasping ivy twined;
O'er heaps of ruin stalk'd the stately hind;
The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires,
And savage howlings fill the sacred choirs.
Awed by his Nobles, by his Commons cursed,
The oppressor ruled tyrannic where he durst,

47

60

70

The fields are ravish'd:' alluding to the destruction made in the New Forest, and the tyrannies exercised there by William I.