Then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs, 95 100 105 110 Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain. But truft the Mufe - fhe faw it upward rife, NOTES. VER. 114. Since all things loft) Vid. Ariofto, Canto xxxiv. 120 (So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew, To Proculus alone confefs'd in view) A fudden Star, it fhot thro' liquid air, 126 The heav'ns befpangling with difhevel'd light. 130 The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, And pleas'd purfue its progrefs thro' the fkies. This the Beau monde fhall from the Mall furvey, And hail with mufic its propitious ray. 135' This the bleft Lover fhall for Venus take, 140 Then ceafe, bright Nymph! to mourn thy ravishd hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! VARIATIONS. VER. 131. The Sylphs behold) These two lines added for the fame reason to keep in view the Machinery of the Poem. NOTES. VER. 137. This Partridge foon) John Partridge was a ridicu lous Star-gazer; who in his Almanacks every year never fail'd to perdict the downfall of the Pope, and] the King of France, then at war with the English. IMITATIONS. VER. 128. Stella micat. Flammiferumque trahens fpatiofo limite crinem Ovid. Shall draw fuch envy as the Lock you loft. And midft the ftars infcribe Belinda's name. 145 150 -Invites my fteps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis fhe! but why that bleeding bofom gor'd, Why dimly gleams the vifionary fword? Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well? Why bade ye elfe, ye pow'rs! her foul afpire 10 15 a) See the Duke of Buckingham's verfes to a Lady defigning to retire into a Monaftery compar'd with Mr. Pope's Letters to feveral Ladies, p. 206. quarto Edition. She feems to be the fame perfon whofe unfortunate death is the fubject of this poem. Dull fullen pris'ners in the body's cage: And fep'rate from their kindred dregs below; 20 25 30 35 But thou, falfe guardian of a charge too good, Thou, mean deferter of thy brother's blood! See on thefe ruby lips the trembling breath, Thefe cheeks now fading at the blaft of death; Cold is that breaft which warm'd the world before, And thofe love - darting eyes muft roll no more. Thus, if eternal justice rules the ball, Thus fhall your wives, and thus your children fall: On all the line a fudden vengeance waits, And frequent herfes fhall befiege your gates. There paffengers fhall ftand and pointing say, (While the long fun'rals blacken all the way) Lo these were they, whose fouls the Furies fteel'd, And curs'd with hearts unknowing how to yield. Thus unlamented pals the proud away, The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day! 40 So perifh all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow 45 For others good, or melt at others woe. What can atone (oh ever-injur'd fhade!) Thy fate unpity'd, and thy rites unpaid? No friend's complaint, no kind domeftic tear Pleas'd thy pale ghoft, or grac'd thy mournful bier, |