Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford, 11 Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd? Why round our coaches croud the white-glov'd Beaux, Why bows the fide-box from its inmost rows? How vain are all these glories, all our pains, 15 Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains : That men may say, when we the front-box grace, Behold the first in virtue as in face! IMITATIONS. "Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd, Oh! if to dance all night, and dress all day, Charm'd the small-pox, or chas'd old-age away; 20 Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, Nor could it fure be such a fin to paint. 25 But fince, alas! frail beauty must decay, fail. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the fight, but merit wins the foul. So spoke the Dame, but no applause ensu'd; 35 Belinda frown'd, Thalestris call'd her Prude. IMITATIONS. VER. 35. So spoke the Dame,] It is a verse frequently repeated in Homer after any speech, " So spoke-and all the Heroes applauded." P. To arms, to arms! the fierce Virago cries, found: 50 Earth shakes her nodding tow'rs, the ground gives way, And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! VARIATIONS. VER. 37. To arms, to arms!] From hence the first Edition goes on to the conclufion, except a very few short insertions added, to keep the Machinery in view to the end of the poem. P. NOTES: VER. 45. So when bold Homer] Homer, Il. xx. P. Triumphant Umbriel on a sconce's height Clap'd his glad wings, and sate to view the fight : Prop'd on their bodkin spears, the Sprites survey The growing combat, or assist the fray. 56 60 While thro' the press enrag'd Thalestris flies, And scatters death around from both her eyes, A Beau and Witling perish'd in the throng, One dy'd in metaphor, and one in fong. "O cruel nymph! a living death I bear," Cry'd Dapperwit, and funk beside his chair. A mournful glance Sir Fopling upwards caft, "Those eyes are made so killing" was his last. Thus on Mæander's flow'ry margin lies Th' expiring Swan, and as he fings he dies. When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, Chloe stepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown; She smil'd to see the doughty hero flain, But, at her smile, the Beau reviv'd again. VARIATIONS. 65 70 VER: 53. Triumphant Umbriel] These four lines added, for the reason before-mentioned. P. IMITATIONS. VER. 53. Triumphant Umbriel] Minerva in like manner, during the battle of Ulysses with the Suitors in the Odyss. perches on a beam of the roof to behold it. P. VER. 64. Those eyes are made so killing] The words of a Song in the Opera of Camilla. P. VER. 65. Thus on Mæander's flow'ry margin lies] 75 Now Jové fufpends his golden scales in air, Weighs the Men's wits against the Lady's hair; The doubtful beam long nods from fide to fide; At length the wits mount up, the hairs subside. See fierce Belinda on the Baron flies, With more than usual lightning in her eyes: Nor fear'd the Chief th' unequal fight to try, Who fought no more than on his foe to die. But this bold Lord with manly strength endu'd, She with one finger and a thumb subdu'd: 80 Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew, A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw; The Gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just, The pungent grains of titillating dust. Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows, 85 And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. Now meet thy fate, incens'd Belinda cry'd, And drew a deadly bodkin from her fide. (The fame, his ancient personage to deck, Her great great grandfire wore about his neck, 90 VARIATIONS. VER. 83. The Gnomes direct,] These two lines added for the above reafon. P. NOTES. VER. 71. Now Jove, etc.] Vid. Homer, Il. viii. and Virg. Æn. xii. P. IMITATIONS. VER. 89. The fame, his ancient perfonage to deck,] In imitation of the progress of Agamemnon's sceptre in Homer, II. ii. P. |