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While through the prefs enrag'd 'Thaleftris flies,
And scatters death around from both her eyes,
A beau and witling perifh'd in the throng;
One dy'd in mataphor, and one in fung.
"O cruel nymph! a living death I bear,"
Cry'd Dapperwit, and funk befide his chair.
A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards caft,
"Those eyes are made fo killing"- -was his laft.
Thus on Mæander's flow'ry margin lies
Th' expiring iwan, and as he fings he dies.

When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clariffa down,
Chloe ftepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown;
She imil'd to fee the doughty hero flain,
But, at her fmile, the beau reviv'd again.

Now Jove fufpends his golden fcales in air,
Weighs the mens' wits against the ladys' hair;
The doubtful beam long nods from fide to fide;
At length the wits mount up, the hairs fubfide.
See fierce Belinda on the Baron flies,

With more than usual lightning in her eyes :
Nor fear'd the chief th' unequal fight to try,
Who fought no more than on his foe to die.
But this bold lord, with manly ftrength endu'd,
She with one finger and a thumb fubdu❜d:
Juft where the breath of life his ftoftrils drew,
A charge of fnuff the wily virgin threw ;
The gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom juft,
The pungent grains of titillating dust.
Sudden, with Itarting tears each eye o'erflows,
And the high dome re-echoes to his nofe.
Now meet thy fate, incens'd Belinda cry'd,
And drew a deadly bodkin from her fide.
(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 vaft buckle for his widow's gown:
Her infant grandame's whiftle next it grew,
The bells the gingled, and the whistle blew;
Then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs,
Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears.)

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Boaft

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 furvive,
And burn in Cupid's flames-but burn alive.
Reftore the Lock! fhe cries; and all around,
Reftore 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 loft!

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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,

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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 treafur'd there.
There heroes' wits are kept in pond'rous vases,
And beaus' in fnuff-boxes and tweezer-cafes.
There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found,
And lover's hearts with ends of ribband bound,
The courtier's promises, and fick mens' pray'rs,
The fmiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,
Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea,
Dry'd butterflies, and tomes of cafuiftry.
But trust the Mufe-fhe faw it upwards rife,
Though mark'd by none but quick poetic eyes:
(So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew,
To Proculus alone confefs'd in view.)
A fudden ftar, it fhot through liquid air,
And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.
Not Berenice's locks first rofe fo bright,

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The heav'ns befpangling with difhevell'd light. 130 The fylphs behold it kindling as it flies,

This the beau monde fhall from the Mall furvey,

And pleas'd purfue its progrefs through the skies.

And hail with music its propitious ray;

This the bleft lover fhall for Venus take,
And send up vows from Rofamonda's lake;

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This Partridge foon fhall 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.

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Then ceafe, bright Nymph! to mourn thy ravish'd

Which adds new glory to the fhining fphere!

[hair,

Not all the treffes that fair head can boaft,

loft.

Shall draw fuch envy as the Lock you
For after all the murders of your eye,
When, after millions flain, your elf fhall die;
When thofe fair funs fhall fet, as fet they muft,
And all thofe treffes fhall be laid in duft,
This Lock the Mufe fhall confecrate to fame,
And 'midft the stars infcribe Belinda's name.

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The Argument.

Phaon, a youth of exquisite beauty, was deeply enamoured of Sappho, a lady of Lesbos, from whom he met with the tendereft returns of paffion: but his affection afterwards decaying, he left her, and failed for Sicily. She, unable to bear the lofs of her lover, hearkened to all the mad fuggeftions of detpair; and feeing no other remedy for her prefent miferies, refolved to throw herself into the fea, from Leucate, a promontory of Epirus, which was thought a cure in cafes of obftinate love, and therefore had obtained the name of the Lover's Leap. But before the ventured upon this laft ftep, entertaining fill fome fond hopes that the might be able to reclaim her iLconftant, he wrote him this Epistle, in which the gives him a ftrong picture of her diarefs and mifery, occafioned by his abfence; and endeavours, by all the artful infinuations and moving expreffions the is miftrefs of, to footh him to foftnefs and a mutual feeling. [Anon.]

SAY, lovely youth, that doft my heart command,
Can Phaon's eyes forget his Sappho's hand?
Muft then her name the wretched writer prove,
To thy remembrance loft, as to thy love?
Afk not the caufe that I new numbers chufe,
The lute neglected, and the lyric mule;
Love taught my tears in fadder notes to flow,
And tun'd my heart to elegies of woe.

I burn, I burn, as when through ripen'd corn
By driving winds the spreading flaines are borne !
Phaon to Ætna's fcorching fields retires,
While I confume with more than Etna's fires!
No more my foul a charm in mufic finds;
Mufic has charms alone for peaceful minds.

ECQUID, ut infpecta eft ftudiofæ littera dextræ,
Protinus eft oculis cognita noftra tuis?
An, nifi legiffes auctoris nomina Sapphûs,
Hoc breve nefcires unde movetur opus?
Forfitan et quare mea fint alterna requiras
Carmina, cum lyricis fim magis apta modis.
Flendus amor meus eft: elegeïa flebile carmen;
Non facit ad lacrymas barbitos ulla meas.
Uror, ut, indomitis ignem exercentibus Euris,
Fertilis accenfis meffibus ardet ager.
Arva Phaon celebrat diverfa Typhoïdos Ætnæ,
Me calor Ætnæo non minor igne coquit.
Nec mihi, difpofitis quæ jungam carmina nervis,
Proveniunt; vacua carmina mentis opus.

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