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Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright,
This the beau monde shall from the Mall survey,
ish'd hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere ! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. For after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust ; This lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame, And midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.
HENRY AND EMMA.
TO CHLOE. Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command (Though low my voice, though artless be my hand) I take the sprightly reed, and sing and play, Careless of what the censuring world may say ; Right Chloe! object of my constant vow, Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains, And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains ? No longer shall the Nut-brown Maid be old, Though since her youth three hundred years have
rollid: At thy desire she shall again be rais'd, And her reviving charms in lasting verse be prais'd.
No longer man of woman shall complain,
As beauty's potent queen with every grace
. one Of all mankind thou lov'st, oh! think on me alone.)
Where beauteous Isis and her husband Thame, With mingled waves for ever flow the same, In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd, Great gifts bestow'd and great respect receiv'd,
When dreadful Edward with successful care Led his free Britons to the Gallic war, This lord had headed his appointed bands, In firm allegiance to his king's commands, And (all due honours faithfully discharg'd) Had brought back his paterual coat, enlarg'd With a new mark, the witness of his toil, And no inglorious part of foreign spoil.
From the loud camp retir'd, and noisy court, In honourable ease and rural sport The remnant of his days he safely pass'd, Nor found they lagg'd too slow, nor flew too fast; He made his wish with his estate comply, Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.
One child he had, a daughter, chaste and fair, His age's comfort and his fortune's heir : They call'd her Emma, for the beauteous dame Who gave the virgin birth had borne the name: The naine the indulgent father doubly lov'd ; For in the child the mother's charms improv'd: Yet as, when little, round his knees she play'd, He call'd her oft, in sport, his Nut-brown Maid; The friends and tenants took the fondling word, (As still they please who imitate their lord) Usage confirm'd what fancy had begun; The mutual terms around the lands were known, And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one,
As with her stature still her charms increas'd, Through all the isle her beauty was confess'd.
Oh! what perfections must that virgin share,
While these in public to the castle came,
,When Emma hunts, in huntsman's habit dress'd,
Directs her spear to fix the glorious wound, ) Pleas'd in his toils to have her triumph crown'd, And blows her praises in no common sound.
A falconer Henry is when Emma hawks ; With her of tarsels and of lures he talks : Upon his wrist the towering merlin stands, Practis'd to rise and stoop at her commands: And when superior now the bird has flown, And headlong brought the tunbling quarry down, With humble reverence he accosts the fair, And with honour'd feather decks her hair. Yet still as from the sportive field she goes, His downcast eye reveals his inward woes ; And by his look and sorrow is express'd A nobler game pursued than bird or beast.
A shepherd now along the plain he roves,
A frantic gipsy now the house he haunts,