Playful Poems Part 14

What dire offence from amorous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things, I sing--This verse to Caryl, Muse! is due: This, even Belinda may vouchsafe to view: Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, If she inspire, and he approve my lays.

Say what strange motive, G.o.ddess! could compel A well-bred lord to a.s.sault a gentle belle?

O say what stranger cause, yet unexplored, Could make a gentle belle reject a lord?

In tasks so bold, can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage?

Sol through white curtains shot a timorous ray, And oped those eyes that must eclipse the day: Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake: Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knocked the ground, And the pressed watch returned a silver sound.

Belinda still her downy pillow pressed, Her guardian Sylph prolonged the balmy rest; 'Twas he had summoned to her silent bed The morning-dream that hovered o'er her head; A youth more glittering than a birth-night beau, (That even in slumber caused her cheek to glow) Seemed to her ear his winning lips to lay, And thus in whispers said, or seemed to say:

"Fairest of mortals, thou distinguished care Of thousand bright inhabitants of air!

If e'er one vision touched thy infant thought, Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught; Of airy elves by moonlight shadows seen, The silver token, and the circled green, Or virgins visited by angel-powers, With golden crowns and wreaths of heavenly flowers; Hear and believe! thy own importance know, Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.

Some secret truths, from learned pride concealed, To maids alone and children are revealed: What though no credit doubting wits may give?

The fair and innocent shall still believe.

Know, then, unnumbered spirits round thee fly, The light militia of the lower sky: These, though unseen, are ever on the wing, Hang o'er the box, and hover round the ring.

Think what an equipage thou hast in air, And view with scorn two pages and a chair.

As now your own, our beings were of old, And once enclosed in woman's beauteous mould; Thence, by a soft transition, we repair From earthly vehicles to these of air.

Think not, when woman's transient breath is fled, That all her vanities at once are dead; Succeeding vanities she still regards, And though she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards.

Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive, And love of ombre, after death survive.

For when the fair in all their pride expire, To their first elements their souls retire: The sprites of fiery termagants in flame Mount up, and take a Salamander's name.

Soft yielding minds to water glide away, And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea.

The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome, In search of mischief still on earth to roam, The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of air.

"Know further yet; whoever fair and chaste Rejects mankind, is by some sylph embraced: For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease a.s.sume what s.e.xes and what shapes they please.

What guards the purity of melting maids, In courtly b.a.l.l.s and midnight masquerades, Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark, The glance by day, the whisper in the dark, When kind occasion prompts their warm desires, When music softens, and when dancing fires?

'Tis but their sylph, the wise celestials know, Though honour is the word with men below.

"Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their face, For life predestined to the gnomes' embrace.

These swell their prospects and exalt their pride, When offers are disdained, and love denied: Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain, While peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train, And garters, stars, and coronets appear, And in soft sounds, Your Grace salutes their ear.

'Tis these that early taint the female soul, Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to roll, Teach infant cheeks a hidden blush to know, And little hearts to flutter at a beau.

"Oft, when the world imagine women stray, The sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, Through all the giddy circle they pursue, And old impertinence expel by new.

What tender maid but must a victim fall To one man's treat, but for another's ball?

When Florio speaks what virgin could withstand, If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand?

With varying vanities, from every part, They shift the moving toyshop of their heart; Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive, Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive.

This erring mortal's levity may call; Oh, blind to truth! the sylphs contrive it all.

"Of these am I, who thy protection claim, A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name.

Late, as I ranged the crystal wilds of air, In the clear mirror of thy ruling star I saw, alas! some dread event impend, Ere to the main this morning sun descend, But heaven reveals not what, or how, or where: Warned by the sylph, oh pious maid, beware!

This to disclose is all thy guardian can: Beware of all, but most beware of man!"

He said; when Shock, who thought she slept too long, Leaped up, and waked his mistress with his tongue.

'Twas then, Belinda, if report say true, Thy eyes first opened on a billet-doux; Wounds, charms, and ardours were no sooner read, But all the vision vanished from thy head.

And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed, Each silver vase in mystic order laid.

First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores, With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers.

A heavenly image in the gla.s.s appears, To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears; The inferior priestess, at her altar's side, Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride.

Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here The various offerings of the world appear; From each she nicely culls with curious toil, And decks the G.o.ddess with the glittering spoil.

This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.

The tortoise here and elephant unite, Transformed to combs, the speckled, and the white.

Here files of pins extend their shining rows, Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux.

Now awful beauty puts on all its arms; The fair each moment rises in her charms, Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace, And calls forth all the wonders of her face; Sees by degrees a purer blush arise, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes.

The busy sylphs surround their darling care, These set the head, and those divide the hair, Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown; And Betty's praised for labours not her own.

CANTO II.

Not with more glories, in the 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 every eye was fixed 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 unfixed as those: 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, 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, Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspired to deck With shining ringlets the smooth ivory 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 ensnare, 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 Propitious heaven, and every power adored, 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; With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire, Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: 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 oppressed, 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, Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew, Dipped in the richest tincture of the skies, Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes, While every 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; 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 Daemons, hear!

Ye know the spheres and various tasks a.s.signed By laws eternal to th' aerial kind.

Some in the fields of purest aether play, And bask and whiten in the blaze of day.

Some guide the course of wandering orbs on high, Or roll the planets through the boundless sky.

Some less refined, 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, 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.

"Our humbler province is to tend the fair, Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care; To save the powder from too rude a gale, Nor let the imprisoned essences exhale; To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers; To steal from rainbows ere they drop in showers A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs, a.s.sist their blushes, and inspire their airs; Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow, To change a flounce or add a furbelow.

"This day black omens threat the brightest fair That e'er deserved 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, 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 Heaven has doomed that Shock must fall, Haste, then, ye spirits! to your charge repair: The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care; The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign; And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine; Do thou, Crisp.i.s.sa, tend her favourite lock; 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 sevenfold fence to fail, Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of whale; Form a strong line about the silver bound, And guard the wide circ.u.mference 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, Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins; Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie, Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin's eye: Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain, While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain; Or alum styptics with contracting power Shrink his thin essence like a rivelled flower; Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel The giddy motion of the whirling mill, In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow, 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 thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair; Some hang upon the pendants of her ear: With beating hearts the dire event they wait, Anxious and trembling, for the birth of Fate.