(*The fame, his ancient perfonage to deck,
Her great great grandfire wore about his neck,
In three feal-rings; which after, melted down,
Form'd a vast buckle for his widow's gown:
Her infant grandame's whilftle next it grew,
The bells fhe jingled, and the whistle blew;
Then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs,
Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears.)
Boaft not my fall (he cry'd) infulting foe!
Thou by fome other fhalt be laid as low.
Nor think, to die dejects my lofty mind:
All that I dread is leaving you behind!
Rather than fo, ah let me ftill survive,
And burn in Cupid's flames,-but burn alive.
Reftore the Lock! fhe cries; and all around
Restore the Lock! the vaulted roofs rebound.
Not fierce Othello in fo loud a strain

Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain.
But fee 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 ev'ry place is fought, but fought in vain:
With fuch a prize no mortal must be bleft,
So heav'n decrees! with heav'n who can contest?
Some thought it mounted to the Lunar sphere,
Since all things loft on earth are treasur'd there.

105

110

In imitation of the progress of Agamemnon's fceptre in Homer, Il. 2.

+ Vid. Ariofto, Canto 34.

There

There Hero's wits are kept in pond'rous vafes,
And Beau's in fnuff boxes and tweezer-cafes.
There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found,
And lovers hearts with ends of ribband bound,
The courtier's promifes, and fick man's pray'rs,
The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,
Cages for gnats, and chains to yoak a flea,
Dry'd butterflies, and tomes of cafuistry.

But truft the Mufefhe faw it upward rife,
Tho' mark'd by none but quick, poetic eyes:

115

120

(So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew, 125 To Proculus alone confefs'd in view)

A fudden Star, it shot thro' liquid air,
And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.
Not Berenice's Locks firft rofe fo bright,
The heav'ns bespangling with dishevel'd light.
The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies,
And pleas'd purfue its progress thro' the skies.

This the Beau-monde fhall from the Mall furvey,

And hail with mufic its propitious ray.

130

This the bleft Lover fhall for Venus take,

And fend up vows from Rofamonda's lake.

This Partridge foon fhall view in cloudless skies,
When next he looks thro' Galilæo's eyes;

135

VER. 137. John Partridge was a ridiculous Stargazer, who in his Almanacks every year, never fail'd to predict the downfall of the Pope, and the King of France, then at war with the English.

And

And hence th' egregious wizard fhall foredoom

The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome.

140

Then cease, bright Nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd hair,

Which adds new glory to the fhining sphere!
Not all the treffes that fair head can boast,
Shall draw fuch envy as the Lock you loft.
For, after all the murders of your eye,
When, after millions flain, yourself shall die;
When those fair funs shall set, as fet they muft,
And all thofe treffes fhall be laid in duft;
This Lock, the Muse shall confecrate to fame,
And 'midft the ftars infcribe Belinda's name.

145

150

ELOISA

ELOISA

ΤΟ

A BEL AR D.

The ARGUMENT.

ABelard and Eloifa flourish'd in the twelfth Century 3 they were two of the most distinguish'd perfons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate paffion. After a long course of Calamities, they retired each to a feveral Convent, and confecrated the remainder of their days to religion. It was many years after this separation, that a letter of Abelard's to a Friend, which contain'd the hiftory of his misfortune, fell into the hands of Eloifa. This awakening all her tenderness, occafion'd thofe celebrated letters (out of which the following is partly extracted) which give fo lively a picture of the ftruggles of grace and nature, virtue and paffion.