case, And thus broke out-"My lord, why, what the devil? Zounds! damn the lock! 'fore God, you must be civil! Plague on't! 'tis past a jest-nay prithee, pox! Give her the hair," he spoke, and rapped his box. "It grieves me much," replied the peer again, "Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain. But by this lock, this sacred lock, I swear, (Which never more shall join its parted hair; 130 Which never more its honours shall re "Forever curs'd be this detested day, Which snatched my best, my favourite 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, Oh, had I rather unadmired remained way, Where none learn ombre, none e'er taste bohea !+ There kept my charms concealed from mortal eye, Like roses, that in deserts bloom and die. What moved my mind with youthful lords to roam? Oh, had I stayed, and said my prayers at home! 'Twas this, the morning omens seemed to tell: Thrice from my trembling hand the patchbox fell; The tottering china shook without a wind; Nay, Poll sat mute, and Shock was most unkind! 160 A sylph, too, warned me of the threats of fate, In mystic visions, now believed too late! See the poor remnants of these slighted hairs! My hands shall rend what e'en thy rapine spares; These in two sable ringlets taught to break, Once gave new beauties to the snowy So spoke the dame, but no applause ensued; Belinda frowned, Thalestris called her prude. "To arms, to arms!" the fierce virago cries, And swift as lightning to the combat flies. All side in parties, and begin th' attack; Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack; 40 Heroes' and heroines' shouts confus'dly rise, And bass and treble voices strike the skies. No common weapons in their hands are found, Like gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. So when bold Homer makes the gods engage, And heavenly breasts with human passions rage; 'Gainst Pallas, Mars, Latona, Hermes arms; And all Olympus rings with loud alarms: Jove's thunder roars, Heaven trembles all around, Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound: 50 Earth shakes her nodding towers, the ground gives way, And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's2 height Clapped his glad wings, and sat to view the fight; Propped on their bodkin spears, the sprites survey The growing combat, or assist the fray. While through the press enraged Thalestris flies, And scatters death around from both her eyes, A beau and witling perished in the throng, One died in metaphor, and one in song. 60 "O cruel nymph! a living death I bear," Cried Dapperwit, and sunk beside his chair. A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards cast, "Those eyes are made so killing"3—was his last. Thus on Mæander's flowery margin lies Th' expiring swan, and as he sings he dies. When next he looks through Galileo's eyes; And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom 139 The fate of Louis and the fall of Rome. Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. For, after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust: This lock, the Muse shall consecrate to fame, And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name. (1714) 150 THE PAINTER WHO PLEASED So very like a painter drew, Two bustos, fraught with every grace, A Venus' and Apollo's face, I Mall. A walk in St. James's Park, where was also the lake of line 136. 2 Partridge. An almanac-maker and astrologer of the period. 3 Sitters would pay a deposit, but refuse to send more money when they saw the work. 4 bustos, Busts, "Oh, pardon me," the artist cried; "In this we painters must decide. The piece ev'n common eyes must strike,I warrant it extremely like." My lord examined it anew; 50 No looking-glass seemed half so true. 31 "My scream, my shanks, you may despise; But such blind critics rail in vain. What! overlook my radiant train! Know, did my legs-your scorn and sport The turkey or the goose support, And did ye scream with harsher sound, A nymph of brightest charms and mien 40 BOADICEA WILLIAM COWPER [Boadicea was Queen of a tribe of Britons. After the death of her husband she quarreled with the Romans, was publicly flogged by them, and led an uprising against their authority. For a time she was successful, but subsequently was defeated and committed suicide. Cowper makes the Druid prophesy the glories of modern Britain.] When the British warrior queen, I spleen contain. Indignation be restrained, Sage beneath a spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief, Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief: "Princess! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'Tis because resentment ties All the terrors of our tongues. "Rome shall perish,-write that word In the blood that she has spilt; Perish hopeless and abhorred, Deep in ruin as in guilt. "Rome, for empire far renowned, "Other Romans shall arise, Heedless of a soldier's name; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame.2 "Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. "Regions Cæsar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew,3 None invincible as they." Such the bard's prophetic words, Pregnant with celestial fire, Bending as he swept the chords Of his sweet but awful lyre. She, with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bosom glow,— Rushed to battle, fought and died,Dying, hurled them at the foe. "Ruffians, pitiless as proud, (1782) ΙΟ 20 30 40 2 Referring to the days when Italy should be famed for the arts instead of warfare. 3 eagles. The Roman standards (bronze eagles). |