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Lud. Du Guernior imu.

C.Pu Bolc sculp

But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's Ears.

si : THE

CANTO Y..
HE said: the pitying Audience melt in Tears,

RAPE of the Lock

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In vain Thalestris with Reproach affails,
For who can move when fair Belinda fails?
Not half so fixt the Trojan cou'd remain,
While Anna begg’d and Dido rag'd in vain.
To Arms, to Arms! the bold Thaleftris. cries,
And swift as Lightning to the Combate flics.

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All side in Parties, and begin th? Attack ;
Fans clap, Silks rusle, and tough Whalebones crack,
Heroes and Heroins Shoạts confus’dly rise,
And bafe, and treble Voices strike the Skies.
No common Weapons in their Hands are found,
Like Gods they fight, por dread a mortal Wound.

*So when bold Homet makes the Gods engage, And heav'nly Breasts with human Passions

rage ; 'Gainst Pallas, Mars, Latona, Hermes Arms; And all Olympus rings with loud Alarms. Jove's Thunder roars, Heav'n trembles all around; Blue Néptiine storms, the bellowing Deeps resound

[gives way Earth shakes her nodding Tow’rs, the Ground And the pale Ghosts start at the Flash of Day !

Triumphant Umbricl on a Sconce's Height : Clapt his glad Wings, and fate to view the Fight, Propt on their. Bodkin Spears-the Sprights survey The growing Combat, or assist the Fray.

While

Homer, Il. 20

While thro' the Press enrag'd Thaleftris flies,
And scatters Death around from both her Eyes,
A Beau and Witling perish'd in the Throng,
One dy'd in Metaphor, and one in Song.
O cruel Nymph: a living Death I bear,
Cry'd Dapperwit, and funk beside his Chair.
A mournful Glance Sir Fopling upwards cast,

Those Eyes are made so killing was his last:
Thus on Meander's flow'ry Margin lies
Th’expiring Swan, and as he sings he dies.

*

As bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarisa down,
Chloe stept in, and kill'd him with a Frown;
She smild to see the doughty Hero sain,
Buţ at her Smile the Beau reviv'd again.

+ Now Yove suspends his golden Scales in Air, Weighs the Mens Wits against the Lady's Hair;

The

* A Song in the Opera of Camilla,

vid. Homer, Il. 22. Virg. Æn. 12,

The doubtful Beam long nods from side to side;
At length the Wits mount up, the Hairs fubfide.

Sec fierce Belinda on the Baron Alies,

i 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 Strength endu'd,

.
She with one Finger and a Thumb subdu'd:
Just where the Breath of Life his Nostrils drew,
A Charge of Snuff the wily Virgin threw;

2
The Gnomes direct to ev'ry Atome just,
The pungent Grains of titillating Dust,
Sudden, with starting Tears each Eye o'erflows,
And the high Dome re-eçchoes to his Nose.

Now meet thy Fate, th' incens'd Virago cry'd, And drew a deadly Bodkin from her side. (* The fame, his ancient Personage to deck, Her great great Grandfire wore about his Neck

In

* In Imitation of the Progress of Agamemnon's Scepter in Homer, 1l. 2.

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