Some thought it mounted to the Lunar fphere, * Since all things loft on earth are treasur'd there. There Hero's wits are kept in pondrous vases, And Beau's in fnuff-boxes and tweezer-cafes.. There broken vows, and death-bed alms are found, And lover's hearts with ends of riband bound; The courtier's promises, and fick man's pray'rs, The fmiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs, Cages for gnats, and chains to yoak a flea; Dry'd butterflies, and tomes of casuistry.

But trust the Mufe--fhe faw it upward rife,
Tho' mark'd by none but quick, poetic eyes:
(So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew,
To Proculus alone confefs'd in view)

A fudden Star, it fhot thro' liquid air,
And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.
Not Berenice's Locks first rofe fo bright,
The heav'ns befpangling with difhevel❜d light,
The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies,
And pleas'd purfue its progress thro' the skies.

* Vid. Ariofto. Canto 34.

This the Beau-monde fhall from the Mall survey, And hail with mufic its propitious ray.

This, the bleft Lover fhall for Venus take,

And send up vows from Rofamonda's lake.
This Partridge foon fhall view in cloudless skies,
When next he looks thro' Galilæo's eyes;
And hence th' egregious wizard fhall foredoom
The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome.

Then ceafe,bright nymph! to mourn the ravish'd hair,
Which adds new glory to the fhining sphere!
Not all the treffes that fair head can boast,
the Lock you loft.

Shall draw fuch envy as the Lock

For, after all the murders of your eye,

When, after millions flain, your felf shall die;
When those fair funs fhall fet, as fet they must,
And all thofe treffes fhall be laid in duft;

This Lock, the Mufe fhall confecrate to fame,
And 'midst the stars infcribe Belinda's name!

THE

TEMPLE

OF

FAME.

Written in the Year 1711.