| |
| 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 | |
| Launch’d on the bosom of the silver Thames. | |
| Fair nymphs, and well-dress’d youths around her shone, | 5 |
| But every eye was fix’d on her alone. | |
| On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, | |
| Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore. | |
| Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, | |
| Quick as her eyes, and as unfix’d as those: | 10 |
| Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; | |
| Oft she rejects, but never once offends. | |
| Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, | |
| And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. | |
| Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, | 15 |
| 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 ’em all. | |
| This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, | |
| Nourish’d two locks, which graceful hung behind | 20 |
| In equal curls, and well conspired to deck | |
| With shining ringlets the 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, | 25 |
| Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey, | |
| Fair tresses man’s imperial race ensnare, | |
| And beauty draws us with a single hair. | |
| Th’ adventurous Baron the bright locks admired; | |
| He saw, he wish’d, and to the prize aspired. | 30 |
| Resolv’d 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 attain’d his ends. | |
| For this, ere Phœbus rose, he had implor’d | 35 |
| Propitious Heav’n, and every Power ador’d, | |
| But chiefly Love—to Love an altar built | |
| Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. | |
| There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves, | |
| And all the trophies of his former loves; | 40 |
| With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, | |
| And breathes three am’rous sighs to raise the fire. | |
| Then prostrate falls, and bags with ardent eyes | |
| Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: | |
| The Powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer, | 45 |
| The rest the winds dispers’d 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 soften’d sounds along the waters die: | 50 |
| Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play, | |
| Belinda smil’d, 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; | 55 |
| The lucid squadrons round the sails repair: | |
| Soft o’er the shrouds aërial whispers breathe | |
| That seem’d but zephyrs to the train beneath. | |
| Some to the sun their insect-wings unfold, | |
| Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold; | 60 |
| Transparent forms too fine for mortal sight, | |
| Their fluid bodies half dissolv’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, | 65 |
| Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes, | |
| While ev’ry beam new transient colours flings, | |
| Colours that change whene’er they wave their wings. | |
| Amid the circle, on the gilded mast, | |
| Superior by the head was Ariel placed; | 70 |
| His purple pinions opening to the sun, | |
| He raised 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 assign’d | 75 |
| By laws eternal to th’ aërial kind. | |
| 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 thro’ the boundless sky: | 80 |
| Some, less refin’d, beneath the moon’s pale light | |
| Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the 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, | 85 |
| 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. | 90 |
| ‘Our humbler province is to tend the Fair, | |
| Not a less pleasing, tho’ less glorious care; | |
| To save the Powder from too rude a gale; | |
| Nor let th’ imprison’d Essences exhale; | |
| To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers; | 95 |
| To steal from rainbows ere they drop in showers | |
| A brighter Wash; to curl their waving hairs, | |
| Assist their blushes and inspire their airs; | |
| Nay oft, in dreams invention we bestow, | |
| To change a Flounce, or add a Furbelow. | 100 |
| ‘This day black omens threat the brightest Fair, | |
| That e’er deserv’d a watchful spirit’s care; | |
| Some dire disaster, or by force or slight; | |
| But what, or where, the Fates have wrapt in night. | |
| Whether the nymph shall break Diana’s law, | 105 |
| Or some frail China jar receive a flaw; | |
| Or stain her honour, or her new brocade, | |
| Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade, | |
| Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball; | |
| Or whether Heav’n has doom’d that Shock must fall. | 110 |
| Haste, then, ye Spirits! to your charge repair: | |
| The flutt’ring fan be Zephyretta’s care; | |
| The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign; | |
| And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; | |
| Do thou, Crispissa, tend her fav’rite Lock; | 115 |
| Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock. | |
| ‘To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note, | |
| We trust th’ important charge, the petticoat; | |
| Oft have we known that sev’n-fold fence to fail, | |
| Tho’ stiff with hoops, and arm’d with ribs of whale: | 120 |
| Form a strong line about the silver bound, | |
| And guard the wide circumference around. | |
| ‘Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, | |
| His post neglects, or leaves the Fair at large, | |
| Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o’ertake his sins: | 125 |
| Be stopp’d in vials, or transfix’d with pins, | |
| Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie, | |
| Or wedg’d whole ages in a bodkin’s eye; | |
| Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain, | |
| While clogg’d he beats his silken wings in vain, | 130 |
| Or alum styptics with contracting power | |
| Shrink his thin essence like a rivell’d flower: | |
| Or, as Ixion fix’d, the wretch shall feel | |
| The giddy motion of the whirling mill, | |
| In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow, | 135 |
| And tremble at the sea that froths below!’ | |
| He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend; | |
| Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend; | |
| Some thread the mazy ringlets of her hair; | |
| Some hang upon the pendants of her ear; | 140 |
| With beating hearts the dire event they wait, | |
| Anxious, and trembling for the birth of Fate. | |
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