 | A Collection of Poems |  |
107
To BELINDA,
On her Singing.
Soon as Belinda moves th' obsequious Air,
The laughing Loves around her all repair,
And while she sings, successful try their Art,
For ev'ry Accent wings a fatal Dart:
Hence, all dissolv'd, we sicken in the Sound,
And bleed with Joy, nor know how great's the Wound;
The charming Poison thrills in ev'ry Vein,
Nor feel we more the Pleasure or the Pain;
Thus dying Martyrs burn in barb'rous Fires,
And smile with great Delight, while Life expires.
The laughing Loves around her all repair,
And while she sings, successful try their Art,
For ev'ry Accent wings a fatal Dart:
Hence, all dissolv'd, we sicken in the Sound,
And bleed with Joy, nor know how great's the Wound;
The charming Poison thrills in ev'ry Vein,
Nor feel we more the Pleasure or the Pain;
Thus dying Martyrs burn in barb'rous Fires,
And smile with great Delight, while Life expires.
O where shall vanquish'd Man for Refuge fly,
Slain by your Song, and conquer'd by your Eye?
No more Amphion's Lyre shall now be fam'd,
Nor Orpheus (celebrated long) be nam'd:
Old worn-out Tales, which Fiction first begun,
And long like Truth the smooth Romance has run;
But now no longer shall th' Enchantment hold,
Hence Truth shall reign, nor Fables more be told:
For hearing you, Belinda, we confess
You merit more, since you perform no less;
One with his Song th' infernal Regions warm'd,
And Hell of all it's Furies stood disarm'd;
While he in moving Numbers sought his Wife,
And beg'd the Powers to give her back to Life;
Stern Proserpine, relenting, heard his Pray'r,
And from the stygian Shades return'd the Fair.
Strange Charms of Sound, that Fate's strong Laws subdue,
In Orpheus fabled, in Belinda true.
Obedient to her Voice, the Furies cease
Their mad uproar, and Rage is hush'd to Peace:
Wild, savage Hearts, to Tameness sink, surpris'd;
And rugged Breasts grow soft and humaniz'd.
Her Glance can strike the stubborn Gazer slain,
Her Voice can call him back to Life again.
Slain by your Song, and conquer'd by your Eye?
No more Amphion's Lyre shall now be fam'd,
Nor Orpheus (celebrated long) be nam'd:
108
And long like Truth the smooth Romance has run;
But now no longer shall th' Enchantment hold,
Hence Truth shall reign, nor Fables more be told:
For hearing you, Belinda, we confess
You merit more, since you perform no less;
One with his Song th' infernal Regions warm'd,
And Hell of all it's Furies stood disarm'd;
While he in moving Numbers sought his Wife,
And beg'd the Powers to give her back to Life;
Stern Proserpine, relenting, heard his Pray'r,
And from the stygian Shades return'd the Fair.
Strange Charms of Sound, that Fate's strong Laws subdue,
In Orpheus fabled, in Belinda true.
Obedient to her Voice, the Furies cease
Their mad uproar, and Rage is hush'd to Peace:
Wild, savage Hearts, to Tameness sink, surpris'd;
And rugged Breasts grow soft and humaniz'd.
Her Glance can strike the stubborn Gazer slain,
Her Voice can call him back to Life again.
The fiction'd Lyre could draw the Stones along,
And Temples rose, and Walls were built by Song;
With Speed, unloosen'd Rocks came rolling down,
And as he play'd, jump'd hasty to a Town;
But you, Belinda, Life with Motion give,
Teach Stones to sigh, and make the Rocks to live;
As from your Tongue, the pow'rful Musick parts,
Earth turns to Soul, and Flints dissolve to Hearts:
Let Thebes it's Wonders from Amphion take,
He made a Town, but you a People make.
And Temples rose, and Walls were built by Song;
109
And as he play'd, jump'd hasty to a Town;
But you, Belinda, Life with Motion give,
Teach Stones to sigh, and make the Rocks to live;
As from your Tongue, the pow'rful Musick parts,
Earth turns to Soul, and Flints dissolve to Hearts:
Let Thebes it's Wonders from Amphion take,
He made a Town, but you a People make.
| A Collection of Poems | |