Classic Poem

BOOK III.

Thus Momusspoke. When sageMinervarose,
From her sweet lips smooth elocution flows,
Her skillful hand an iv'ry pallet grac'd,
Where shining colours were in order plac'd.
As Gods are bless'd with a superior skill,
And, swift as mortal thought, perform their will,
Strait she proposes, by her art divine,
To bid the paint express her great design.
Th' assembled Pow'rs consent. She now began,
And her creating pencil stain'd the fan.
O'er the fair field, trees spread, and rivers flow,
Tow'rs rear their heads, and distant mountains grow:
Life seems to move within the glowing veins,
And in each face some lively passion reigns.
Thus have I seen woods, hills, and dales appear,
Flocks graze the plains, birds wing the silent air
In darken'd rooms, where light can only pass
Through the small circle of a convex glass;
On the white sheet the moving figures rise,
The forest waves, clouds float along the skies.
She various fables on the piece design'd,
That spoke the follies of the female kind.
The fate of pride inNiobeshe drew:
Be wise, ye nymphs, that scornful vice subdue.
In a wide plain th' imperious mother stood,
Whose distant bounds rose in a winding wood:
Upon her shoulder flows her mantling hair,
Pride marks her brow, and elevates her air;
A purple robe behind her sweeps the ground,
Whose spacious border golden flow'rs surround:
She madeLatona's altars cease to flame,
And of due honours robb'd her sacred name.
To her own charms she bad fresh incense rise,
And adoration own her brighter eyes.
Sev'n daughters from her fruitful loyns were born,
Sev'n graceful sons her nuptial bed adorn,
Who, for a mother's arrogant disdain,
Were byLatona's double offspring slain.
HerePhaebushis unerring arrow drew,
And from his rising steed her first-born threw,
His op'ning fingers drop the slacken'd rein,
And the pale corse falls headlong to the plain.
Beneath her pencil here two wrestlers bend,
See, to the grasp their swelling nerves distend,
Diana's arrow joins them face to face,
And death unites them in a strict embrace.
Another here flies trembling o'er the plain;
When heav'n pursues we shun the stroke in vain.
This lifts his supplicating hands and eyes,
And 'midst his humble adoration dies.
As from his thigh this tears the barbed dart,
A surer weapon strikes his throbbing heart:
While that to raise his wounded brother tries,
Death blasts his bloom, and locks his frozen eyes.
The tender sisters bath'd in grief appear,
With sable garments and dishevell'd hair,
And o'er their gasping brothers weeping stood;
Some with their tresses stopt the gushing blood,
They strive to stay the fleeting life too late,
And in the pious action share their fate.
Now the proud dame o'ercome by trembling fear,
With her wide robe protects her only care;
To save her only care in vain she tries,
Close at her feet the latest victim dies.
Down her fair cheek the trickling sorrow flows,
Like dewy spangles on the blushing rose,
Fixt in astonishment she weeping stood.
The plain all purple with her children's blood;
She stiffens with her woes; no more her hair
In easie ringlets wantons in the air;
Motion forsakes her eyes, her veins are dry'd,
And beat no longer with the sanguine tide;
All life is fled, firm marble now she grows,
Which still in tears the mother's anguish shows.
Ye haughty fair, your painted fans display,
And the just fate of lofty pride survey;
Though lovers oft extoll your beauty's power.
And in celestial similies adore,
Though from your featuresCupidborrows arms,
And Goddesses confess inferior charms,
Do not, vain maid, the flatt'ring tale believe,
Alike thy lovers and thy glass deceive.
Here lively coloursProcris' passion tell,
Who to her jealous fears a victim fell.
Here kneels the trembling hunter o'er his wife,
Who rolls her sick'ning eyes, and gasps for life;
Her drooping head upon her shoulder lies,
And purple gore her snowy bosom dies.
What guilt, what horror on his face appears!
See, his red eye-lid seems to swell with tears,
With agony his wringing hands he strains,
And strong convulsions stretch his branching veins.
Learn hence, ye wives; bid vain suspicion cease,
Lose not in sullen discontent your peace.
For when fierce love to jealousie ferments,
A thousand doubts and fears the soul invents,
No more the days in pleasing converse flow,
And nights no more their soft endearments know.
There on the piece theVolscianQueen expir'd,
The love of spoils her female bosom fir'd;
GayChloreusarms attract her longing eyes,
And for the painted plume and helm she sighs;
Fearless she follows, bent on gaudy prey,
Till an ill-fated dart obstructs her way;
Down drops the martial maid; the bloody ground
Floats with a torrent from the purple wound.
The mournful nymphs her drooping head sustain,
And try to stop the gushing life in vain.
Thus the raw maid some tawdry coat surveys,
Where the fop's fancy in embroidery plays;
His snowy feather edg'd with crimson dyes,
And his bright sword-knot lure her wand'ring eyes;
Fring'd gloves and gold brocade conspire to move,
Till the nymph falls a sacrifice to love.
Here youngNarcissuso'er the fountain stood.
And view'd his image in the crystal flood;
The crystal flood reflects his lovely charms.
And the pleas'd image strives to meet his arms.
No nymph his unexperienc'd breast subdu'd,
Ecchoin vain the flying boy pursu'd,
Himself alone the foolish youth admires,
And with fond look the smiling shade desires:
O'er the smooth lake with fruitless tears he grieves,
His spreading fingers shoot in verdant leaves,
Through his pale veins green sap now gently flows,
And in a short-lived flow'r his beauty blows.
Let vainNarcissuswarn each female breast,
That beauty's but a transient good at best.
Like flow'rs it withers with th' advancing year,
And age like winter robs the blooming fair.
OhAraminta, cease thy wonted pride,
Nor longer in thy faithless charms confide;
Ev'n while the glass reflects thy sparkling eyes,
Their lustre and thy rosie colour flies!
Thus on the fan the breathing figures shine,
And all the Powers applaud the wise design.
TheCyprianQueen the painted gift receives,
And with a grateful bow the synod leaves.
To the low world she bends her steepy way
WhereStrephonpass'd the solitary day;
She found him in a melancholy grove,
His down-cast eyes betray'd desponding love,
The wounded bark confess'd his slighted flame,
And ev'ry tree bore falseCorinna's name;
In a cool shade he lay with folded arms,
Curses his fortune, and upbraids her charms,
WhenVenusto his wond'ring eyes appears,
And with these words relieves his am'rous cares.
Rise, happy youth, this bright machine survey,
Whose ratt'ling sticks my busie fingers sway,
This present shall thy cruel charmer move,
And in her fickle bosom kindle love.
The fan shall flutter in all female hands,
And various fashions learn from various lands.
For this, shall elephants their ivory shed;
And polish'd sticks the waving engine spread:
His clouded mail the tortoise shall resign,
And round the rivet pearly circles shine.
On this shallIndiansall their art employ,
And with bright colours stain the gaudy toy;
Their paint shall here in wildest fancies flow,
Their dress, their customs, their religion show,
So shall theBritishfair their minds improve,
And on the fan to distant climates rove.
HereChina's ladies shall their pride display,
And silver figures gild their loose array;
This boasts her little feet and winking eyes;
That tunes the fife, or tinkling cymbal plies:
Here cross-leg'd nobles in rich state shall dine,
There in bright mail distorted heroes shine.
The peeping fan in modern times shall rise,
Through which unseen the female ogle flies;
This shall in temples the sly maid conceal,
And shelter love beneath devotion's veil.
GayFranceshall make the fan her artist's care,
And with the costly trinket arm the fair.
As learned Orators that touch the heart,
With various action raise their soothing art,
Both head and hand affect the list'ning throng,
And humour each expression of the tongue.
So shall each passion by the fan be seen,
From noisie anger to the sullen spleen.
WhileVenusspoke, joy shone inStrephon's eyes,
Proud of the gift, he toCorinnaflies.
ButCupid(who delights in am'rous ill,
Wounds hearts, and leaves them to a woman's will)
With certain aim a golden arrow drew,
Which toLeander's panting bosom flew;
Leanderlov'd; and to the sprightly dame
In gentle sighs reveal'd his growing flame;
Sweet smilesCorinnato his sighs returns,
And for the fop in equal passion burns.
LoStrephoncomes! and with a suppliant bow,
Offers the present, and renews his vow.
When she the fate ofNiobebeheld,
Why has my pride against my heart rebell'd?
She sighing cry'd. Disdain forsook her breast,
AndStrephonnow was thought a worthy guest.
InProcris' bosom when she saw the dart,
She justly blames her own suspicious heart,
Imputes her discontent to jealous fear,
And knows herStrephon's constancy sincere.
When onCamilla's fate her eye she turns,
No more for show and equipage she burns:
She learnsLeander's passion to despise,
And looks on merit with discerning eyes.
Narcissus' change to the vain virgin shows.
Who trusts to beauty, trusts the fading rose.
Youth flies apace, with youth your beauty flies,
Love then, ye virgins, e'er the blossom dies.
ThusPallastaught her.Strephonweds the dame,
AndHymen's torch diffus'd the brightest flame.