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Book 1.

THE FAN.

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To Venus now the slighted boy complains,
And calls the goddess in these tender strains.
'O potent queen! from Neptune's empire sprung,
Whose glorious birth admiring Nereids sung,
Who midst the fragrant plains of Cyprus rove,
Whose radiant presence gilds the Paphian grove, 60
Where to thy name a thousand altars rise,
And curling clouds of incense hide the skies;
O beauteous goddess! teach me how to move,
Inspire my tongue with eloquence of love.
If lost Adonis e'er thy bosom warm'd,
If e'er his eyes or godlike figure charm'd,
Think on those hours when first you felt the dart,
Think on the restless fever of thy heart;
Think how you pin'd in absence of the swain;
By those uneasy minutes know my pain.
Ev'n while Cydippe to Diana bows,

And at her shrine renews her virgin vows,

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The lover, taught by thee, her pride o'ercame ;
She reads his oaths, and feels an equal flame:
Oh! may my flame, like thine, Acontius! prove, 75
May Venus dictate, and reward my love.
When crowds of suitors Atalanta tried,
She wealth and beauty, wit and fame defied;
Each daring lover with adventrous pace
Pursued his wishes in the dangerous race;
Like the swift hind the bounding damsel flies,
Strains to the goal, the distanc'd lover dies.
Hippomenes, O Venus! was thy care,
You taught the swain to stay the flying fair,
Thy golden present caught the virgin's eyes,
She stoops; he rushes on, and gains the prize.
Say, Cyprian deity! what gift, what art,
Shall humble into love Corinna's heart?

VOL. II.

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If only some bright toy can charm her sight,
Teach me what present may suspend her flight.' 90
Thus the desponding youth his flame declares;
The goddess with a nod his passion hears.
Far in Cythera stands a spacious grove,
Sacred to Venus and the god of Love;
Here the luxuriant myrtle rears her head,
Like the tall oak the fragrant branches spread;
Here Nature all her sweets profusely pours,
And paints the' enamell'd ground with various flow'rs;
Deep in the gloomy glade a grotto bends,

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Wide through the craggy rock an arch extends, 100
The rugged stone is clothed with mantling vines,
And round the cave the creeping woodbine twines.
Here busy Cupids, with pernicious art,

Form the stiff bow and forge the fatal dart:
All share the toil: while some the bellows ply, 105
Others with feathers teach the shafts to fly:
Some with joint force whirl round the stony wheel,
Where streams the sparkling fire from temper'd steel;
Some point their arrows with the nicest skill,
And with the warlike store their quivers fill.

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A different toil another forge employs; Here the loud hammer fashions female toys; Hence is the fair with ornament supplied, Hence sprung the glittering implements of pride; Each trinket that adorns the modern dame, First to these little artists ow'd its frame. Here an unfinish'd di'mond crosslet lay, To which soft lovers adoration pay;

There was the polish'd crystal bottle seen,

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That with quick scents revives the modish spleen:120 Here the yet rude unjointed snuff-box lies,

Which serves the rallied fop for smart replies;

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There piles of paper rose in gilded reams,
The future records of the lover's flames:
Here clouded canes 'midst heaps of toys are found,
And inlaid tweezer-cases strow the ground:
There stands the toilette, nursery of charms,
Completely furnish'd with bright beauty's arms;
The patch, the powder-box, pulville, perfumes,
Pins, paint, a flattering glass, and black-lead combs.
The toilsome hours in different labour slide, 131
Some work the file, and some the graver guide;
From the loud anvil the quick blow rebounds,
And their rais'd arms descend in tuneful sounds.
Thus when Semiramis, in ancient days,
Bade Babylon her mighty bulwarks raise,
A swarm of labourers different tasks attend:
Here pullies make the pondrous oak ascend,
With echoing strokes the cragged quarry groans,
While there the chissel forms the shapeless stones;
The weighty mallet deals resounding blows,
Till the proud battlements her towers enclose.

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Now Venus mounts her car; she shakes the reins, And steers her turtles to Cythera's plains: Straight to the grot with graceful step she goes, 145 Her loose ambrosial hair behind her flows; The swelling bellows heave for breath no more, All drop their silent hammers on the floor; In deep suspense the mighty labour stands, While thus the goddess spoke her mild commands: 'Industrious Loves! your present toils forbear, A more important task demands your care; Long has the scheme employ'd my thoughtful mind, By judgment ripen'd, and by time refin'd. That glorious bird have ye not often seen Who draws the car of the celestial Queen?

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Have ye not oft survey'd his varying dyes,
His tail all gilded o'er with Argus' eyes?
Have ye not seen him in the sunny day
Unfurl his plumes, and all his pride display,
Then suddenly contract his dazzling train,
And with long-trailing feathers sweep the plain?
Learn from this hint, let this instruct your art,
Thin taper sticks must from one centre part;
Let these into the quadrant's form divide,
The spreading ribs with snowy paper hide;
Here shall the pencil bid its colours flow,
And make a miniature creation grow:
Let the machine in equal foldings close,
And now its plaited surface wide dispose ;
So shall the fair her idle hand employ,
And grace each motion with the restless toy,
With various play bid grateful zephyrs rise,
While love in every grateful zephyr flies.'

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The master, Cupid, traces out the lines, And with judicious hand the draught designs; The' expecting Loves with joy the model view, And the joint labour eagerly pursue. Some slit their arrows with the nicest art, And into sticks convert the shiver'd dart; The breathing bellows wake the sleeping fire, Blow off the cinders, and the sparks aspire; Their arrows' point they soften in the flame, And sounding hammers break its barbed frame: Of this the little pin they neatly mold,

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From whence their arms the spreading sticks unfold;
In equal plaits they now the paper bend,
And at just distance the wide ribs extend,

Then on the frame they mount the limber skreen,
And finish instantly the new machine.

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The goddess, pleas'd, the curious work receives, Remounts her chariot, and the grotto leaves; With the light Fan she moves the yielding air, And gales, till then unknown, play round the fair.

Unhappy Lovers! how will you withstand, 195 When these new arms shall grace your charmer's hand?

In ancient times, when maids in thought were pure, When eyes were artless, and the look demure, When the wide ruff the well-turn'd neck enclos'd, And heaving breasts within the stays repos'd, 200 When the close hood conceal'd the modest ear, Ere black-lead combs disown'd the virgin's hair, Then in the muff unactive fingers lay,

Nor taught the Fan in fickle forms to play.

How are the sex improv'd in amorous arts! 205 What new-found snares they bait for human hearts! When kindling war the ravag'd globe ran o'er, And fatten'd thirsty plains with human gore, At first, the brandish'd arm the javelin threw, Or sent wing'd arrows from the twanging yew; 210 In the bright air the dreadful falchion shone, Or whistling slings dismiss'd the' uncertain stone. Now men those less destructive arms despise, Wide-wasteful death from thundering cannon flies; One hour with more battalions strows the plain, 215 Than were of yore in weekly battles slain. So love with fatal airs the nymph supplies, Her dress disposes, and directs her eyes. The bosom now its panting beauties shows, The' experienc'd eye resistless glances throws; 220 Now varied patches wander o'er the face, And strike each gazer with a borrow'd grace;

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