The god appear'd: he turn'd his azure eyes Where Windfor domes and pompous turrets rife ; Then bow'd and fpoke; the winds forget to roar, And the hufh'd waves glide foftly to the fhore. Hail, facred Peace! hail, long expected days, 355 That Thames's glory to the stars fhall raife! Though Tyber's ftreams immortal Rome behold, Though foaming Hermus fwells with tides of gold, From heav'n itself though fevenfold Nilus flows, And harvefts on a hundred realms bestows; Thefe now no more fhall be the Mufe's themes, Loft in my fame, as in the fea their streams. Let Volga's banks with iron fquadrons fhine, And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine, Let barb'rous Ganges arm a fervile train; Be mine the bleffings of a peaceful reign. No more my fons fhall dye with British blood

Red Iber's fands, or Ifter's foaming flood:
Safe on my fhore each unmolefted fwain

360

365

Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain; 370 The fhady empire fhall retain no trace

Of war or blood, but in the fylvan chace;

The trumpet fleep, while cheerful horns are blown,

And arms employ'd on birds and beasts alone.

Behold th' afcending villas on my fide,

375

Project long fhadows o'er the cryftal tide;

Behold! Augufta's glitt'ring fpires increase,

And temples rife, the beauteous works of Peace.

I fee, I fee, where two fair cities bend

Their ample bow, a new Whitehall afcend!

380

There mighty nations shall inquire their doom,

The world's great oracle in times to come;

here kings fhall fue, and fuppliant ftates be feen

Once more to bend before a British Queen.

384

Thy frees, fair Windfor! now fhall leave their woods, nd half thy forefts rush into the floods,

Bear Britain's thunder, and her cross display
To the bright regions of the rifing day;
Tempt icy feas, where fcarce the waters roll,
Where clearer flames glow round the frozen pole;

Or

391

395

Or under fouthern fkies exalt their fails,
Led by new stars, and borne by spicy gales !
For me the balm fhall bleed, and amber flow,
The coral redden, and the ruby glow,
The pearly fhell its lucid globe infold,
And Phoebus warm the rip'ning ore to gold.
The time fhall come, when, free as feas or wind,
Unbounded Thames fhall flow for all mankind,
Whole nations enter with each swelling tide,
And feas but join the regions they divide;
Earth's diftant ends our glory fhall behold,
And the new world launch forth to feek the old.
Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the tide,
And feather'd people crowd my wealthy fide,
And naked youths and painted chiefs admire
Our speech, our colour, and our strange attire!
Oh ftretch thy reign, fair Peace! from shore to shore,
Till conquest ceafe, and flav'ry be no more;
Till the freed Indians in their native groves

400

405

415

Reap their own fruits, and woo their fable loves; 410
Peru once more a race of kings behold,
And other Mexicos be roof'd with gold.
Exil'd by thee, from earth to deepest hell,
In brazen bonds, fhall barb'rous Difcord dwell:
Gigantic Pride, pale Terror, gloomy Care,
And mad Ambition, fhall attend her there :
There purple Vengeance, bath'd in gore retires,
Her weapons blunted, and extinct her fires :
There hated Envy her own fnakes shall feel,
And Perfecution mourn her broken wheel:
There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain,
And gafping Furies thirft for blood in vain.

Here ceate thy flight, nor with unhallow'd lays,
Touch the fair fame of Albion's golden days:
The thoughts of gods let Granville's verfe recite,
And bring the fcenes of op'ning fate to light,
My humble mufe, in unambitious strains,
Paints the green forefts and the flow'ry plains,
Where Peace defcending bids her olives fpring,
And scatters bleflings from her dove-like wing.

420

426

RAPE OF THE LOCK.

AN

HEROI-COMICAL POEM.

[Written in the Year 1712.]

IT

то

MRS. ARABELLA FERMOR.

MADAM,

will be in vain to deny that I have fome regard for this Piece, fince I dedicate it to you. Yet you may bear me witnefs, it was intended only to divert a few young ladies, who have good fenfe and good humour enough to laugh not only at their fex's little unguarded follies, but at their own. But as it was communicated with the air of a fecret, it foon found its way into the world. An imperfect copy having been offered to a bookfeller, you had the good-nature, for my fake, to confent to the publication of one more correct: this I was forced to before I had executed half my defign, for the machinery was entirely wanting to complete it. The machinery, Madam, is a term invented by the critics, to fignify that part which the deities, angels, or dæmons, are made to act in a poem : for the ancient poets are in one refpect like many modern ladies, let an action be ever fo trivial in itfelf, they always make it appear of the utmost importThefe machines I determined to raife on a very new and odd foundation, the Roficrufian doctrine of fpirits. I know how disagreeable it is to make ufe of hard words before a lady; but it is fo much the concern

ance.

of

of a poet to have his works understood, and parti'cularly by your fex, that you must give me leave to explain two or three difficult terms.

The Roficrusians are a people I must bring you acquainted with. The bett account I know of them is in a French book called Le Comte de Gabalis, which, both in its title and fize, is so like a novel, that many of the fair fex have read it for one by mistake. According to thefe gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by fpirits, which they call Sylphs, Gnomes, Nymphs, and Salamanders. The gnomes, or dæmons of earth, delight in mifchief; but the fyiphs, whofe habitation is in the air, are the beft-conditioned creatures imaginable: for they fay, any mortal may enjoy the molt intimate familiarities with thefe gentle fpirits, upon a condition very eafy to all true adepts, an inviolate prefervation of charity.

As to the following Cantos, all the paffages of them are as fabulous as the Vision at the beginning, or the Transformation at the end; (except the lofs of your hair, which I always mention with reverence.) The human perfons are as fictitious as the airy ones; and the character of Belinda, as it is now managed, refembles you in nothing but in beauty.

If this Poem had as many graces as there are in your perfon, or in your mind, yet I could never hope it fhould pafs through the world half fo uncenfured as you have done. But let its fortune be what it will, mine is happy enough, to have given me this occalion of afsuring you that I am, with the truest efteem,

MADAM,

Your most obedient, humble fervant,

A. POPE.