Poems on Several Occasions | ||
225
TO Seigniora Cuzzoni.
Thou, at whose Birth, commenc'd a puzzling Case,
Between thy still-contending Voice and Face,
How shall I do thy warring Virtues Right?
What can I say, to set them fair in Light?
This, everlasting Ugliness maintains,
And Harmony, in That, triumphant reigns.
We look, and, lo! Deformity prevails:
We hear, and all is sweet as Zephyr's Gales:
But when, at once, we listen and we gaze,
Th' unnatural Discord strikes us with Amaze.
Now This, now That, appears with greatest Force,
Rapture and Torment take their Turn of Course.
Our Sense and Souls, divided, fly the Field,
Uncertain whether Face, or Voice, should yield.
Between thy still-contending Voice and Face,
How shall I do thy warring Virtues Right?
What can I say, to set them fair in Light?
This, everlasting Ugliness maintains,
And Harmony, in That, triumphant reigns.
226
We hear, and all is sweet as Zephyr's Gales:
But when, at once, we listen and we gaze,
Th' unnatural Discord strikes us with Amaze.
Now This, now That, appears with greatest Force,
Rapture and Torment take their Turn of Course.
Our Sense and Souls, divided, fly the Field,
Uncertain whether Face, or Voice, should yield.
What art thou? Devil! or Angel! can'st thou tell
Whether thou'rt Native born of Heav'n, or Hell?
Or didst thou to th' unnatural Embrace
Of het'rogeneous Parents owe thy Case?
Thou seem'st Hermophrodite of a new Kind,
Procreate betwixt a Body and a Mind.
Thy Face declares a Satyr was thy Sire,
Thy Voice claims Kindred to th' angelic Choir.
This might pervert Sir Peter King, the Just,
And That cure Ch--- of insatiate Lust.
Whether thou'rt Native born of Heav'n, or Hell?
Or didst thou to th' unnatural Embrace
Of het'rogeneous Parents owe thy Case?
Thou seem'st Hermophrodite of a new Kind,
Procreate betwixt a Body and a Mind.
Thy Face declares a Satyr was thy Sire,
Thy Voice claims Kindred to th' angelic Choir.
227
And That cure Ch--- of insatiate Lust.
Hence, Monster, hence!—O no, the Britons pray
Thou'lt take Two Thousand Pounds a Year, and stay,
To charm their Sense, and scare their Crows away!
Thou'lt take Two Thousand Pounds a Year, and stay,
To charm their Sense, and scare their Crows away!
Poems on Several Occasions | ||