On various tempers act by various ways,
Make fome take phyfic, others fcribble plays;
Who cause the proud their vifits to delay,
And fend the godly in a pett, to pray.
A nymph there is, that all thy pow'r difdains,
And thousands more in equal mirth maintains.
But oh! if e'er thy Gnome could spoil a grace,
Or raise a pimple on a beauteous face;
Like citron-waters matrons cheeks inflame,
Or change complexions at a loosing game;
If e'er with airy horns I planted heads,
Or rumpled petticoats, or tumbled beds,
Or caus'd fufpicion when no foul was rude,
Or difcompos'd the head-drefs of a prude,
Or e'er to coftive lap-dogs gave disease,
Which not the tears of brighteft eyes could ease:
Hear me, and touch Belinda with chagrin;
That fingle act gives half the world the spleen.
The Goddess with a difcontented air
Seems to reject him, tho' fhe grants his pray'r.
A wond'rous bag with both her hands fhe binds,,
Like that where once Ulyffes held the winds;
There the collects the force of female lungs,
Sighs, fobs, and paffions, and the war of tongues.
A vial
A vial next fhe fills with fainting fears,
Soft forrows, mleting griefs, and flowing tears.
The Gnome rejoicing bears her gift away,
Spreads his black wings, and flowly mounts to day.
Sunk in Thalefiris' arms the nymph he found,
Her eyes dejected, and her hair unbound,
Full o'er their heads the fwelling bag he rent,
And all the furies iffued at thevent.
Belinda burns with more than mortal ire,
And fierce Thaleftris fans the rifing fire.
O wretched maid! fhe fpread her hands, and cry'd,
(While Hampton's echo's, wretched maid reply'd)
Was it for this you took fuch conftant care
The bodkin, comb, and effence to prepare?
For this your locks in paper durance bound,
For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around?
For this with fillets ftrain'd your tender head,
And bravely bore the double loads of lead?
Gods! fhall the ravifher difplay your hair,
While the fops envy, and the ladies ftare!
Honour forbid! at whofe unrivall'd fhrine
Eafe, pleasure, virtue, all, our sex refign.
Methinks already I your tears furvey,
Already hear the horrid things they fay,
Already fee you a degraded toast,
And all your honour in a whisper loft!!
How fhall I, then, your helpless fame defend?
Twill then be infamy to feem your friend!
And shall this prize, th' ineftimable prize,
Expos'd thro' cryftal to the gazing eyes,
And heighten'd by the diamond's circling rays,
On that rapacious hand for ever blaze?
Sooner fhall grafs in Hyde-park circus grow,
And wits take lodgings in the found of Bow;
Sooner let earth, air, fea, to Chaos fall,
Men, monkies, lap-dogs, parrots, perifh all!
She faid; then raging to Sir Plume repairs, And bids her beau demand the precious hairs: (Sir Plume, of amber fnuff-box juftly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane) With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, He first the snuff-box open'd, then the case, And thus broke out-"My Lord, why, what the devil? "Z-ds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil! ་་ Plague on't! 'tis paft a jeft-nay prithee, pox! "Give her the hair-he fpoke, and rapp'd his box. It grieves me much (reply'd the Peer again) Who fpeaks fo well fhould ever speak in vain.
But by this lock, this facred lock I fwear,
(Which never more fhall join its parted hair;
Which never more its honours fhall renew,
Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew)
That while my noftrils draw the vital air,
This hand, which won it, fhall for ever wear.
He spoke, and speaking, in proud triumph spread
The long-contended honours of her head..
But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not fo; He breaks the vial whence the forrows flow. Then fee! the nymph in beauteous grief appears, Her eyes half languishing, half drown'd in tears, On her heav'd bofom hung her drooping head, Which, with a figh, fhe rais'd; and thus fhe faid.
For ever curs'd be this detefted day,
Which fnatch'd my beft, my fav'rite curl away!
Happy! ah ten times happy had I been,
If Hampton-Court these eyes had never seen!
Yet am not I the first mistaken maid,
By love of courts to num'rous ills betray'd.
Oh had I rather unadmir'd remain'd
In fome lone ifle, or diftant northern land;
In allufion to Achilles's oath in Homer. I. 1.
Where the gilt chariot never marks the way,
Where none learn Ombre, nor e'er tafte Bohea!
There kept my charms, conceal'd from mortal eye,
Like roses that in defarts bloom and die.
What mov'd my mind with youthful Lords to rome?
Oh had I ftay'd, and faid my pray'rs at home!
'Twas this, the morning omens feem'd to tell;
Thrice from my trembling hand the patch-box fell;
The tott'ring china fhook without a wind,
Nay, Poll fate mute, and Shock was most unkind!
A Sylph too warn'd me of the threats of fate,
In myftic vifions, now believ'd too late!
See the poor remnants of these flighted hairs!
My hands fhall rend what e'en thy rapine fpares:
Thefe, in two fable ringlets taught to break,
Once gave new beauties to the fnowy neck;
The fifter-lock now fits uncouth, alone,
And in its fellow's fate forefees its own;
Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal fheers demands;
And tempts once more thy facrilegious hands.
Oh hadft thou, cruel! been content to feize
Hairs lefs in fight, or any hairs but these !
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