To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears. Transform'd to combs, the speckled and the white. And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. 145 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 prais'd for labors not her own. CANTO II. NOT with more glories, in th' etherial plain, 5 Fair nymphs, and well-drest youths around her shone, But ev'ry 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, 10 Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those. Favors 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. 15 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, 20 Nourish'd two locks, which graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspir'd 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. 25 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' advent'rous baron the bright locks admir'd; 30 He saw, he wish'd, and to the prize aspir'd, 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. 35 For this, ere Phoebus rose, he had implor'd Propitious heav'n, and ev'ry pow'r 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, 40 And all the trophies of his former loves; With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, And breathes three am'rous sighs, to raise the fire. Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize: 45 The pow'rs gave ear, and granted half his pray'r; The rest the winds dispers'd in empty air. But now secure the painted vessel glides, The sun-beams trembling on the floating tides, While melting music steals upon the sky, 50 And soften'd sounds along the waters die. 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. 55 He summons strait his denizens of air; 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, 60 Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold; 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, 65 Dipt in the richest tincture of the skies, Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes, While ev'ry beam new transient colors flings, Colors that change when 'er they wave their wings. Amid the circle, on the gilded mast, 70 Superior by the head, was Ariel plac'd; His purple pinions op'ning 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 Demons, hear! 75 Ye know the spheres and various tasks assign'd By laws eternal to th' aërial kind. Some in the fields of purest ether play, And bask and whiten in the blaze of day. 9 To draw fresh colors from the vernal flow'rs; "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. 105 Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, Or some frail China jar receive a flaw; Or lose her heart, or necklace, at a ball; 110 Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock must fall. 135 He spoke; the spirits from the sails descend. |