Smooth flow the Waves, the Zephyrs gently play, Belinda fmil'd, and all the World was gay.
All but the Sylph; With careful Thoughts oppreft,
Th' impending Woe fate heavy on his Breaft.
He fummons ftrait his Denizens of Air;
The lucid Squadrons round the Sails repair:
Soft o'er the Shrowds Aerial Whispers breath,
That seem'd but Zephyrs to the Train beneath.
Some to the Sun their Infect-Wings unfold,
Waft on the Breeze, or fink in Clouds of Gold.
Transparent Forms, too fine for mortal Sight,
Their fluid Bodies half diffolv'd in Light.
Loose to the Wind their airy Garments flew,
Thin glitt'ring Textures of the filmy Dew;
Dipt in the richest Tincture of the Skies,
Where Light difports in ever-mingling Dies,
While ev'ry Beam new tranfient Colours flings,
Colours that change whene'er they wave their Wings.
Amid the Circle, on the gilded maft,
Superiour by the Head, was Ariel plac'd;
His Purple Pinions opening to the Sun,
He rais'd his Azure Wand and thus begun.
Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your Chief give Ear,
Fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Demons hear!
Ye know the Spheres and various Tasks affign'd,
By Laws Eternal, to th' Aerial Kind.
Some in the Fields of pureft Ether play,
And bask and whiten in the Blaze of Day.
Some guide the Course of wandring Orbs on high,
Or roll the Planets thro' the boundless Sky.
Some lefs refin'd, beneath the Moon's pale Light
Hover, and catch the shooting Stars by Night;
Or fuck the Mifts in groffer Air below,
Or dip their Pinions in the painted Bow,
Or brew fierce Tempefts on the wintry Main,
Or on the Glebe diftil the kindly Rain.
Others on Earth o'er humane Rače prefide,
Watch all their Ways, and all their Actions guide:
Of these the Chief the Care of Nations own,
And guard with Arms Divine the British Throne.
Our humbler Province is to tend the Fair, Not a lefs pleafing, tho' lefs glorious Care.
To fave the Powder from too rude a Gale,
Nor let th' imprifon'd Effences exhale;
To draw fresh Colours from the vernal Flow'rs,"
To steal from Rainbows e're they drop in Showr's
A brighter Wafh; to curl their waving Hairs,
Affift their Blushes, and infpire their Airs;
Nay oft, in Dreams, Invention we bestow,
To change a Flounce, or add a Furbelo!
This Day, black Omens threat the brightest Fair
That e'er deferv'da watchful Spirit's Care;
Some dire Difafter, or by Force, or Slight,
But what, or where, the Fates have wrapt in Night.
Whether the Nymph shall break Diana's Law,
Or fome frail China Jar receive a Flaw,
Or ftain her Honour, or her new Brocade,
Forget her Pray'rs, or miss a Masquerade,
Or lofe her Heart, or Necklace, at a Ball;
Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock muft fall.
Hafte then, ye Spirits! to your Charge repair
The flutt'ring Fan be Zephyretta's Care;
The Drops to thee, Brillante, we confign
And, Momentilla, let the Watch be things in GAT
Do thou, Crifpia, tend her fav'rite Lockabi
Ariel himself fhall be the Guard of Shack,
TI
To Fifty chofen Sylphs, of special Notes of We trust th' important Charge, the Petticoat: ? Oft have we known that fev'nfold Fence to fail, Tho' ftiff with Hoops, and arm'd with Ribs of Whale. Forma ftrong Line about the Silver Bound, And guard the wide Circumference around.
Whatever Spirit, careless of his Charge,
His Poft neglects, or leave the Fair at large,
Shall feel sharp Vengeance foon o'ertake his Sins,
Be ftopt in Vials, or transfixt with Pins;
Or plung'd in Lakes of bitter Washes lie,
Or wedg'd whole Ages in a Bodkin's Eye:
Gums and Pomatums fhall his Flight reftrain,
While clogg'd he beats his filken Wings in vain;
Or Alum-Stypticks with contracting Power
Shrink his thin Effence like a rivell'd Flower.
UNT
Or as Ixion fix'd, the Wretch fhall feel
The giddy Motion of the whirling Mill,
Midft Fumes of burning Chocolate fhall glow,
And tremble at the Sea that froaths below!
He spoke; the Spirits from the Sails defcend Some, Orb in Orb, around the Nymph extend, Some thrid the mazy Ringlets of her Hair, Some hang upon the Pendants of her Ear; With beating Hearts the dire Event they wait, Anxious, and trembling for the Birth of Fate.
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