Here lively colours Procris' 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 dyes.
What guilt, what horror on his face appears!
See, his red eyelid 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 jealousy 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 the Volscian Queen expir'd,
The love of spoils her female bosom fir'd;
Gay Chloreus' arms 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 embroid❜ry plays;
His snowy feather edg'd with crimson dyes,
And his bright sword-knot lure her wand'ring eyes;
Fring'd gloves and gold brocades conspire to move,
Till the nymph falls a sacrifice to love.
Here young Narcissus o'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,
Echo in 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,
Thro' his pale veins green sap now gently flows,
And in a short-liv'd flow'r his beauty blows.
Let vain Narcissus warn 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.
Oh! Araminta, cease thy wonted pride,
Nor longer in thy faithless charms confide;
Ev'n while the glass reflects thy sparkling eyes,
Their lustre and thy rosy colour flies!
Thus on the Fan the breathing figure shine,
And all the pow'rs applaud the wise design.
The Cyprian Queen the painted gift receives,
And with a grateful bow the synod leaves:
To the low world she bends her steepy way,
Where Strephon pass'd the solitary day:
She found him in a melancholy grove,
His downcast eyes betray'd desponding love;
The wounded bark confess'd his slighted flame,
And ev'ry tree bore false Corinna's name :
In a cool shade he lay with folded arms,
Curses his fortune, and upbraids her charms,
When Venus to his wond'ring eyes appears,
And with these words relieves his am'rous cares :
Rise, happy Youth! this bright machine survey,
Whose rattling sticks my busy 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 iv'ry 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 shall Indians all 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 the British fair their minds improve,
And on the Fan to distant climates rove.
Here China's ladies shall their pride display,
And silver figures gild their loose array :
This boasts her little feet and winking eyes;
That tunes the pipe or tinkling cymbal plies:
Here cross-legg'd nobles in rich state shall dine,
There in bright mail distorted heroes shine.
The peeping Fan in modern times shall rise,
Thro' which unseen the female ogle flies :
This shall in temples the sly maid conceal,
And shelter love beneath Devotion's veil.
Gay France shall, make the Fan her artists' 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 fashion by the Fan be seen,
From noisy anger to the sullen spleen.
While Venus spoke, joy shone in Strephon's eyes, Proud of the gift, he to Corinna flies:
But Cupid (who delights in am'rous ill,
Wounds hearts, and leaves them to a woman's will)
With certain aim a golden arrow drew,
Which to Leander's panting bosom flew :
Leander lov'd, and to the sprightly dame
In gentle sighs reveal'd his growing flame;
Sweet smiles Corinna to his sighs returns,
And for the fop in equal passion burns.
Lo, Strephon comes! and with a suppliant bow
Offers the present, and renews his vow.
When she fate of Niobe beheld,
Why has my pride against my heart rebell'd?
"She sighing cry'd: disdain forsook her breast,
And Strephon now was thought a worthy guest.
In Procris' bosom when she saw the dart,
She justly blames her own suspicious heart,
Imputes her discontent to jealous fear,
And knows her Strephon's constancy sincere.
When on Camilla's fate her eyes she turns,
No more for show and equipage she burns:
She learns Leander'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 ere the blossom dies.
Thus Pallas taught her. Strephon weds the dame, And Hymen's torch diffus'd the brightest flame.
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