He takes the gift with rev'rence, and extends
The little engine on his finger's ends:
This just behind Belinda's neck he spread,
As o'er the fragrant streams the bends her head.
Swift to the lock a thousand sprites repair,
A thousand wings, by turns, blow back the hair;
And thrice they twitch'd the diamond in her ear;
Thrice she look'd back, and thrice the foe drew near.
Juk in that instant, anxious Ariel fought
The close recesses of the virgin's thought;
As on the nosegay in her breast reclin'd,
He watch'd th' ideas rifing in her mind,
Sudden he view'd, in spite of all her art,
An earthly lover lurking at her heart.
Amaz'd, confus'd, he found his pow'r expir'd,
Refign'd to fate, and with a figh retir'd.
The Peer now spreads the glitt'ring Forfex wide,
T' inclose the lock; now joins it, to divide.
Ev'n then, before the fatal engine clos'd,
A wretched Sylph too fondly interpos'd;
Fate urg'd the sheers, and cut the Sylph in twain,
(* But airy substance foon unites again)
* See Milton, lib. 6. of Satan cut asunder by the angel Michael.
The meeting points the sacred hair dissever
From the fair head, for ever, and for ever!
Then flash'd the livid lightnings from her eyes,
And fereams of horror rend th' affrighted skies.
Not louder shrieks to pitying heav'n are cast,
When husbands, or whenlapdogs breathe their last;
Or when rich China vesels, fall'n from high,
In glittering dust, and painted fragments lie!
Let wreaths of triumph now my temples twine,
(The victor cry'd) the glorious prize is mine!
While fish in streams, or birds delight in air,
Or in a coach and fix, the British fair,
As long as Atalantis shall be read,
Or the small pillow grace a lady's bed,
While vifits shall be paid on folemn days,
When num'rous wax-lights in bright order blaze,
While nymphs take treats, or affignations give,
So long my honour, name, and praise shall live!
What time wou'd spare, from steel receives its
And monuments, like men, submit to fate!
Steel could the labour of the Gods destroy,
And strike to dust th' imperial tow'rs of Troy;
Steel
Steel could the works of mortal pride confound,
And hew triumphal arches to the ground.
What wonder then, fair nymph! thy hairs should
The conqu'ring force of unresisted steel?
UT anxious cares the pensive nymph oppreft,
And fecret paffions labour'd in her breast.
Not youthful Kings in battel feiz'd alive,
Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,
Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss,
Not ancient Ladies when refus'd a kiss,
Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,
Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry,
E'er felt fuch rage, resentment and despair,
As thou, sad virgin! for thy ravish'd hair.
For, that sad moment, when the Sylphs withdrew, And Ariel weeping from Belinda flew,
Umbriel, a dusky, melancholy sprite
As ever fully'd the fair face of light,
Down to the central earth, his proper scene,
Repairs to search the gloomy cave of Spleen.
Swift on his footy pinions flits the Gname,
And in a vapour reach'd the dismal dome.
No chearful breeze this fullen region knows,
The dreaded East is all the wind that blows.
Here, in a grotto, shelter'd close from air,
And screen'd in shades from day's detested glare,
She fighs for ever on her pensive bed
Pain at her fide, and Megrim at her head,
Two handmaids wait the throne: alike in place,
But diff'ring far in figure and in face.
Here ftood Ill-nature like an ancient maid,
Her wrinkled form in black and white array'd;
With store of prayers for mornings, nights, and noons,
Her hand is fill'd; her bosom with lampoons.
There Affectation, with a fickly mien,
Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen,
Practis'd to lifp, and hang the head afide,
Faints into airs, and languishes with pride;
On the rich quilt, finks with becoming woe,
Wrapt in a gown, for fickness, and for show.
The fair ones feel such maladies as these,
When each new night-dress gives a new disease.
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