And now, unveiled, the Toilet stands displayed; Each silver vase in mystic order laid. First, robed in white, the Nymph intent adores, The busy Sylphs surround their darling care. These set the head, and those divide the hair; Some fold the sleeve, while others plait the gown: And BETTY's praised for labours not her own! THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. CANTO II. NOT with more glories in th' ethereal plain, The sun first rises o'er the purpled Main, Than, issuing forth, the Rival of his beams Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames. Fair Nymphs and well-dressed Youths around her shone; But ev'ry eye was fixed on her alone. On her white breast, a sparkling cross she wore; Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike; ΙΟ Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide! If to her share some female errors fall; Look on her face, and you'll forget them all! This Nymph, to the destruction of Mankind, Nourished two Locks; which graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspired to deck With shining ringlets her smooth iv'ry neck. LOVE in these labyrinths his slaves detains ; And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. With hairy springes we the birds betray. Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey. Fair tresses Man's imperial race insnare; And Beauty draws us with a single hair. Th' adventurous Baron, the bright locks admired. He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired! Resolved to win; he meditates the way, By force to ravish, or by fraud betray. For when success a Lover's toil attends, Few ask, 'If fraud, or force, attained his ends?' For this, ere PHOEBUS rose, he had implored There, lay the sword-knot SYLVIA's hands had sown; With tender billets-doux he lights the pyre; The Powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer ; The rest, the winds dispersed in empty air! But now secure the painted vessel glides, The sunbeams trembling on the floating tides; While melting music steals upon the sky, And softened sounds along the waters die. Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play; BELINDA smiled, and all the World was gay! All but the Sylph! With careful thoughts opprest, Th' impending woe sat heavy on his breast. He summons straight his denizens of Air. The lucid squadrons round the Sails repair. Soft o'er the Shrouds aerial whispers breathe, That seemed but zephyrs to the Train beneath. Some to the sun their insect-wings unfold, Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold. Transparent Forms, too fine for mortal sight, Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light. Loose to the wind their airy garments flew, Amid the circle, on the gilded Mast, 'Ye Sylphs and Sylphids! to your Chief give ear! 'Some in the fields of purest ether play; And bask and whiten in the blaze of day. Some guide the course of wand'ring orbs on high; Or roll the Planets through the boundless sky. Some, less refined, beneath the moon's pale light Hover, and catch the Shooting Stars by night; Or suck the mists in grosser air below; Or dip their pinions in the painted Bow; Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry Main; Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain. 'Others, on Earth, o'er Human Race preside, 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. |