OT with more glories, in th' etherial plain,
The Sun firft rifes o'er the purpled main,
Than iffuing forth, the rival of his beams
Launch'd on the bofom of the filver Thames.
Fair Nymphs, and well-dreft Youths around her fhone, 5
But ev'ry eye was fix'd on her alone.
On her white breaft a fparkling Crofs fhe wore,
Which Jews might kifs, and Infidels adore.
Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,
Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those :
Favours to none, to all fhe fmiles extends,
Oft' fhe rejects, but never once offends.`
Bright as the fun, her eyes the gazers strike,
And, like the fun, they fhine on all alike.
Yet graceful eafe, and sweetness void of pride
Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide :
If to her share fome female errors fall,
Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
This Nymph, to the deftruction of mankind,
Nourish'd two Locks, which graceful hung behind
In equal curls, and well confpir'd to deck
With fhining ringlets the smooth iv'ry neck:
Love in these labyrinths his flaves detains,
And mighty hearts are held in flender chains.
With hairy fpringes we the birds betray,
Slight lines of hair furprize the finny prey,
Fair treffes man's imperial race infnare,
And beauty draws us with a fingle hair.
Th' advent'rous Baron the bright locks admir'd,
He faw, he wifh'd, and to the prize aspir❜d.
Refolv'd to win, he meditates the way,
By force to ravish, or by fraud betray;
For when fuccefs a Lover's toil attends,
Few afk, if fraud or force attain'd his ends.
For this, e'er Phoebus rofe, he had implor'd
Propitious heav'n, and ev'ry pow'r ador'd,
But chiefly Love to Love an altar built,
Of twelve vaft French Romances, neatly gilt.
There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves;
And all the trophies of his former loves.
With tender Billet-doux he lights the pyre,
And breathes three am'rous fighs to raise the fire.
Then proftrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes
Soon to obtain, and long poffefs the prize :
The Pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray❜r,
The reft, the winds difpers'd in empty air.
But now fecure the painted veffel glides,
The fun-beams trembling on the floating tides;
While melting mufic fteals upon the sky,
And foften'd founds along the waters die;
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 breast.
He fummons ftrait his Denizens of air;
The lucid fquadrons round the fails repair:
Soft o'er the fhrouds aerial whispers breathe,
That seem'd but Zephyrs to the train beneath.
Some to the fun their infect wings unfold,
Waft on the breeze, or fink in clouds of gold;
Transparent forms, too fine for mortal fight,
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 richeft tincture of the skies,
Where light difports in ever-mingling dyes,
While ev'ry beam new tranfient colours flings,
Colours that change whene'er they wave their wings.
Amid the circle, on the gilded maft,
Superior by the head, was Ariel plac'd;
His purple pinions op'ning to the fun,
He rais'd his azure wand, and thus begun.
Ye Sylphs and Sylphids, to your chief give ear,
Fays, Fairies, Genii, Elves, and Dæmons, hear!
Ye know the spheres and various tasks affign'd
By laws eternal to th' aerial kind.
Some in the fields of pureft Æther play,
And bask and whiten in the blaze of day.
Some guide the courfe of wand'ring orbs on high,
Or roll the planets thro' the boundless sky.
Some lefs refin'd, beneath the moon's pale light
Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the 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 o'er the glebe diftill the kindly rain.
Others on earth o'er human race 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'er they drop in show'rs
A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs,
Affift their blushes, and inspire their airs;
Nay oft', in dreams, invention we bestow,
To change a Flounce, or add a Furbelow.
This day black Omens threat the brightest fair
That e'er deferv'd ́a watchful spirit's care';
Some dire difafter, or by force, or flight;
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 lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball;
Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock muft fall. 110
Haste then, ye fpirits! 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 thine;
Do thou, Crifpiffa, tend her fav'rite Lock;
Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.
To fifty chofen Sylphs, of special note,
We truft th' important charge, the Petticoat:
Oft' have we known that feven-fold fence to fail,
Tho' ftiff with hoops, and arm'd with ribs of whale.
Form a ftrong line about the filver bound,
And guard the wide circumference around.
Whatever spirit, careleis of his charge,
His poft neglects, or leaves the fair at large,
Shall feel sharp vengeance foon o'ertake his fins,
Be ftop'd in vials, or transfix'd 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 restrain,
While clog'd he beats his filken wings in vain;
Or Alum ftyptics with contracting pow'r
Shrink his thin effence like a fhrivell'd flow'r :
Or as Ixion fix'd, the wretch fhall feel
The giddy motion of the whirling Mill,
In fumes of burning Chocolate fhall glow,
And tremble at the sea that froths below!
He spoke; the fpirits from the fails descend; 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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