Oh could I hope that e'er my favour'd lays Might curl those lovely locks with conscious pride, Nor Hammond, nor the Mantuan Shepherds praise I'd envy then, nor wish reward beside. Cupid has strung from you, O tresses fine, Fine are my Delia's tresses as the threads That from the silk-worm, self-interr'd, proceed; Yet with these tresses Cupid's power elate My captive heart has handcuffed in a chain, Strong as the cables of some huge first-rate, THAT BEARS BRITANNIA'S THUNDERS O'ER THE MAIN, The SYLPHS that round her radiant locks repair, And ELFIN MINSTRELS with assiduous care ELEGY IV. The Poet relates how he stole a Lock of Delia's Hair, and her Anger. Oh! be the day accurst that gave me birth! Let universal Chaos now return, Now let the central fires their prison burst, And Earth and Heaven and Air and Ocean burn.. For Delia frowns.. she frowns, and I am curst! Oh! I could dare the fury of the fight, Where hostile millions sought my single life; Would storm Volcano batteries with delight, And grapple with grim Death in glorious strife. Oh! I could brave the bolts of angry Jove, When ceaseless lightnings fire the midnight skies; What is his wrath to that of her I love? What is his LIGHTNING to my DELIA'S EYES? Go, fatal Lock! I cast thee to the wind; Seize the curst curls, ye Furies as they fly! Last night,.. Oh hear me Heaven, and grant my prayer! And let me from its ample records tear Or let me meet old Time upon his flight, I'll force him back the ROAD OF YESTERDAY. Last night, as o'er the page of Love's despair, I stood a treacherous loiterer by her chair, And drew the FATAL SCISSARS from my sleeve : And would that at that instant o'er my thread She heard the scissars that fair lock divide, "You stupid puppy,.. you have spoil'd my wig!" |