319

Let fofter ftrains ill-fated Henry mourn, And palms eternal flourish round his urn. Here o'er the martyr-king the marble weeps, And, faft befide him, once fear'd Edward fleeps; Whom not th' extended Albion could contain, From old Belerium to the northern main. The grave unites; where e'en the great find reft, And blended lie th' oppreffor and th' oppreit! Make facred Charles's tomb for ever known, (Obfcure the place, and uninscrib'd the stone.) Oh fact accurs'd! what tears has Albion fhed! Heav'ns what new wounds! and how her old have

320

She faw her fons with purple death expire,

Her facred domes involv'd in rolling fire,

A dreadful feries of inteftine wars,
Inglorious triumphs, and difhoneft fcars.

[bled!

325

At length great Anna faid, "Let difcord ceafe!"
She faid; the world obey'd, and all was peace!
In that bleft moment from his oozy bed

Old father Thames advanc'd his reverend head ; 330
His treffes dropp'd with dews, and o'er the stream
His fhining horns diffus'd a golden gleam:

Grav'd on his urn appear'd the moon, that guides

His fwelling waters, and alternate tides;

The figur'd ftreams in waves of filver roll'd,
And on her banks Augufta rofe in gold.
Around his throne the fea-born brothers stood,
Who fwell with tributary urns his flood:
Firft the fam'd authors of his ancient name,
The winding Ifis, and the fruitful Thame:
The Kennet fwift, for filver eels renown'd;
The Lodden flow, with verdant alders crown'd;
Cole, whofe dark streams his flow'ry iflands lave;
And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave:
The blue, tranfparent Vandalis appears;
The gulphy Lee his fedgy treffes rears;
And fulen Mole, that hides his diving flood;
And filent Darent, ftain'd with Danith blood.

335

340

345

High in the midft, upon his urn reclin'd, (His fea-green mantle waving with the wind,)

350 The

The god appear'd: he turn'd his azure eyes
Where Windfor domes and pompous turrets rife;
Then bow'd and fpoke; the winds forget to roar,
And the hush'd waves glide foftly to the fhore.

360

Hail, facred Peace! hail, long expected days, 355 That Thames's glory to the fears shall raise! Though Tyber's ftreans immortal Rome behold, Though foaming Hermus fwells with tides of gold, From heav'n itself though fevenfold Nilus flows, And harvests on a hundred realms beftows; These now no more fhall be the Mufe's themes, Loft in my fame, as in the fea their streams. Let Volga's banks with iron squadrons fhine, And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine, Let barb'rous Ganges arm a fervile train; Be mine the bleffings of a peaceful reign. No more my fons fhall dye with British blood Red Iber's fands, or Ifter's foaming flood: Safe on my shore each unmolested fwain

365

Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain; 370 The fhady empire fhall retain no trace

Of war or blood, but in the fylvan chace;

The trumpet fleep, while cheerful horns are blown,

And arms employ'd on birds and beasts alone.

Behold th' afcending villas on my fide,

375

Project long shadows o'er the crystal tide;

Behold! Augufta's glitt'ring fpires increase,

And temples rife, the beauteous works of Peace.

I fee, I fee, where two fair cities bend

Their ample bow, a new Whitehall ascend!

389

There mighty nations fhall inquire their doom,

The world's great oracle in times to come;

There kings fhall fue, and fuppliant states be seen

Once more to bend before a British Queen.

384

Thy trees, fair Windfor! now fhall leave their woods,

And half thy forefts rush into the floods,

Bear Britain's thunder, and her crof's difplay
To the bright regions of the rifing day;
Tempt icy feas, where fcarce the waters roll,

Where clearer flames glow round the frozen pole;

Or

Or under fouthern fkies exalt their fails,
Led by new ftars, and borne by spicy gales!
For me the balm fhall bleed, and amber flow,
The coral redden, and the ruby glow,

The pearly fhell its lucid globe infold,

And Phoebus warm the rip'ning ore to gold.

391

395

400

The time fhall come, when, free as feas or wind,
Unbounded Thames thall flow for all mankind,
Whole nations enter with each fwelling tide,
And feas but join the regions they divide;
Earth's diftant ends our glory fhall behold,
And the new world launch forth to feek the old.
Then fhips of uncouth form fhall stem the tide,
And feather'd people crowd my wealthy fide,
And naked youths and painted chiefs admire
Our speech, cur colour, and our strange attire!
Oh ftretch thy reign, fair Peace! from fhore to fhore,
Till conqueft ceafe, and flav'ry be no more;
Till the freed Indians in their native groves

405

415

Reap their own fruits, and woo their fable loves; 410
Peru once more a race of kings behold,
And other Mexicos be roof'd with gold.
Exil'd by thee, from earth to deepest hell,
In brazen bonds, fhall barb'rous Difcord dwell:
Gigantic Pride, pale Terror, gloomy Care,
And mad Ambition, fhall attend her there :
There purple Vengeance, bath'd in gore retires,
Her weapons blunted, and extinct her fires :
There hated Envy her own fnakes fhall feel,
And Periecution mourn her broken wheel:
There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain,
And gafping Furies thirft for blood in vain.

Here ceafe thy flight, nor with unhallow'd lays,
Touch the fair fame of Albion's golden days:
The thoughts of gods let Granville's verfe recite,
And bring the fcenes of op'ning fate to light.
My humble mufe, in unambitious ftrains,
Paints the green forefts and the flow'ry plains,
Where Peace defcending bids her olives fpring,
And scatters bieflings from her dove-like wing.

420

4-26

THE

RAPE OF THE LOCK,

ΑΝ

HEROI-COMICAL POEM.

[Written in the Year 1712]

то

MRS. ARABELLA FERMOR,

MADAM,

IT will be in vain to deny that I have fome regard for this Piece, fince I dedicate it to you. Yet you may bear me witness, it was intended only to divert a few young ladies, who have good fenfe and good humour enough to laugh not only at their fex's little unguarded follies, but at their own. But as it was communicated with the air of a fecret, it foon found its way into the world. An imperfect copy having been offered to a bookfeller, you had the good-nature, for my fake, to confent to the publication of one more correct: this I was forced to before I had executed half my defign, for the machinery was entirely wanting to complete it. The machinery, Madam, is a term invented by the critics, to fignify that part which the deities, angels, or dæmons, are made to act in a poem : for the ancient poets are in one refpect like many modern ladies, let an action be ever fo trivial in itself, they always make it appear of the utmost import ance. Thefe machines I determined to raife on a very new and odd foundation, the Roficrufian doctrine of fpirits.

I know how difagreeable it is to make use of hard. words before a lady; but it is fo much the concern

of

of a poet to have his works understood, and particularly by your fex, that you must give me leave to explain two or three difficult terms.

The Reficrufians are a people I muft bring you acquainted with. The bett account I know of them is in a French book called Le Comte de Gabalis, which, both in its title and fize, is fo like a novel, that many of the fair fex have read it for one by miftake. According to thele gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by fpirits, which they call Sylphs, Gnomes, Nymphs, and Salamanders. The gnomes, or dæmons of earth, delight in mischief; but the fylphs, whofe habitation is in the air, are the beft-conditioned creatures imaginable: for they fay, any mortal may enjoy the most intimate familiarities with thefe gentle fpirits, upon a condition very eafy to all true adepts, an inviolate preservation of chastity. As to the following Cantos, all the paffages of them are as fabulous as the Vilion at the beginning, or the Transformation at the end; (except the lofs of your hair, which I always mention with reverence.) The human perlons are as fictitious as the airy ones; and the character of Belinda, as it is now managed, refembles you in nothing but in beauty.

If this Poem had as many graces as there are in your perfon, or in your mind, yet I could never hope it fhould pafs through the world half fo uncenfured as you have done. But let its fortune be what it will, mine is happy enough, to have given me this occafion of afluring you that I am, with the truest esteem,

MADAM,

Your most obedient, humble fervant,

A. POPE.