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She smild to see the doughty heroe slain,
Now Jove suspends his golden scales in air,
The doubtful beam long nods from side to side;
*Now meet thy fate, incens'd Belinda cry'd,
IMITATION S. VER. 83. The Gnomes direct, ] These two lines added: for the above reason. P.
VER. 89. The same, his ancient personage to deck.] In imitation of the progress of Agamemnon's fceptre in Homer, II. ii. P.
Virg. Æn. xii.
Then in a bodķin grac'd her mother's hairs, 95 Which long she wore, and now Belinda wears.)
Boast not my fall (he cry'd) insulting foe! Thou by some other shalt be laid as low, Nor think, to die dejects my lofty mind : All that I dread is leaving you behind !
100 Rather than so, ah let me still survive, And burn in Cupid's fames,—but burn alive.
Restore the Lock! she cries; and all around Restore the Lock! the vaulted roofs rebound. Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain
105 Roard for the handkerchief that caus’d his pain. But see how oft ambitious aims are cross'd, And chiefs contend 'till all the prize is lost ! The Lock, obtain'd with guilt, and kept with pain, In ev'ry place is fought, but sought in vain: IIO With such a prize no mortal must be blest, So heav'n decrees ! with heav'n who can contest?
Some thought it mounted to the Lunar sphere, Since all things loft on earth are treasur'd there. There Hero's wits are kept in pond'rous vases, And Beau's in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases. 116 There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found, And lovers hearts with ends of ribband bound, The courtier's promises, and fick man's pray’rs, The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs, 120 Cages for gnats, and chains to yoak a flea, Dry'd butterflies, and tomes of casuistry.
But trust the Muse-she saw it upward rise, Tho' mark'd by none, but quick, poetic eyes :
(So VÆR. 114. Since all things 10j1] Vid. Ariosto. Canto xxxiv. P.
(So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew, To Proculus alone confefs'd in view)
126 A sudden Star, it shot thro' liquid air, And drew behind a radiant trail of hair. Not Berenice's Locks first rose so bright, The heav'ns bespangling with disheveld light. 130 The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, And pleas'd pursue its progress thro’ the skies.
This the Beau monde shall from the Mall survey, And hail with music its propitious ray. This the bleft Lover shall for Venus take,
VER. 137. This Partridge foon] John Partridge was a ridiculous Star-gazer, who in his Almanacks every year never fail'd to predict the downfal of the Pope, and the King of France, then at war with the Eaglish. P.
VARIATIONS. Ver. 13!. The Sylphs behold] These two lines added for the same reason to keep in view the Machinery of the Poem. P.
P'limmiferumque trahens spatioso limite crinem
For, after all the murders of your eye, 145
E L EGY
To the MEMORY of an
HAT beck’ning ghost, along the moon
light shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ? 'Tis she ! – but why that bleeding bosom gor’d, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell,
Why bade ye elfe, ye Pow'rs! her soul aspire
* See the Duke of Buckingham's verses to a Lady designing to retire into a Monastery compared with Mr. Pope's Letters to several Ladies, p. 206. She seems to be the same person whose unfortunate death is the subject of this poem.