University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Kite

An Heroi-Comical Poem. In Three Canto's [by Phanuel Bacon]
  
  

collapse section 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
collapse sectionIII. 
CANTO III.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


21

CANTO III.

But CUPID now with anxious Thoughts oppress'd
Ceas'd from His SPORT, and thus the Loves address'd.
“Thus far has Jove and Fate propitious shone,
“Our BIRD is finish'd, and One Labour done!

22

Its Safety is our next, our chiefest Care,
“While High It soars thro' pathless Fields of Air.
“To guard It from the Whirlwind's rapid Power,
“Or careful shield It from the treach'rous Shower:
“Will Æolus Implor'd refuse His Aid?
“Or Jove deny when LOVE and DIAN plead?
Scarce had He ended, but a Love withdrew,
And on the Wings of gen'rous Duty flew;
Nor tarry'd 'till He reach'd the distant Cells,
Where the Hoarse Wind's Imperious Tyrant dwells.
Here breath'd the South, that falls in genial Showers,
And gentle Zephyr crown'd with Vernal Flowers:
There blew the East, that buttons Breasts of Beauxs,
And over Chloe's Neck the Tippet throws;
Or with the North in dreadful Union raves,
Whirls o'er the Main, and rolls the madding Waves.

23

So (if great Things may be compar'd with small,
And troubled Oceans to a Jug of Ale)
When TATTLE heats the Drink that chears Her Soul,
And to Her Tooth prepares the groaning Bowl:
Her giddy Hands the mingling Fluids shake,
And the white Bubbles o'er the Surface break.
Unnumber'd Virgins croud on ev'ry Side,
To various Punishments condemn'd for Pride.
Belinda here with Pins and Powder sits,
And at the Glass with fruitless Labour waits:
Behind Her Chair the Ruffling North attends,
And ever discomposes as She mends:
Raw Vapours steam a-round the cruel Fair,
And Winds that whistle nothing but Despair.

24

There Amoret cold piercing Blasts pursue,
And stain her Nose with everlasting Blue!
Others, whose Hoops unwary Youths enflam'd,
Here run—O L---d! so rumpled and asham'd!
Thro' These the Love, and not regardless, pass'd,
As onward to the Monarch's Throne He press'd:
The Merchant here His ready Aid implores,
And asks a brisker Gale from India's Shores.
There Luckless Hero for a Calm intreats,
While Her Leander tempts the fatal Streights:
And Black-Ey'd Susan with Impatience burns,
To know how soon sweet William's Ship returns.
Whilst ÆOL 'midst his Guards, in awful State,
Array'd in Furr, like Russia's Sov'reign Sate:
With stretch'd-out Arm dispensing Prosp'rous Gales,
To swell to Fame and Conquest, British Sails.

25

Now all was hush'd, and LOVE his Silence broke,
And thus the Wind-compelling King bespoke.
“If ever DIAN's Beauty reach'd thy Cell,
“If e'er thine Eye beheld the Sportive Belle,
“When the Fair Huntress, foremost of the Train,
“Grew to Her Steed, and scowr'd along the Plain:
“If Æol then in conscious Rapture stray'd,
“And round Her Neck, in glad Confusion, play'd;
“If then, with greedy Joy, Her Lips He press'd,
“Rumpled Her Tucker, and unveil'd Her Breast;
“That Hand, that did so soft thy Bliss reprove,
“Gives to thy Charge, this Day, the BIRD of Love:
“Let Zephyrs then, in active Whispers breath,
“But ev'ry other Wind be still, as Death!

26

“This FAN be Thine, and such in Love it's Pow'r,
“Not Jove in all His Shapes e'er boasted more:
“When future Passions shall thy Breast invade,
“Be this the Present to the Fav'rite Maid;
It's Sheet unfurl'd, reveals a Scene of Gold,
“And Love in Ambush lies in ev'ry Fold;
“Soon as Her Hand these painted Altars raise,
“The Nymph, not vainly, with my Arrows plays;
This ever shall new Thoughts of Thee suggest,
“And bear Thee to Her Lips, and waft Thee to Her Breast.
Thus He—and the grim Monarch of the Wind
In swelling Bags, a happy Gale confin'd;
With These well-fraught, the Love returns to Day,
And back to DIAN wings his liquid Way.

27

Now with the Bird She seeks the flow'ry Meads,
(Pancies, and Dazies, grow where e'er She treads;)
The little Loves around, with decent Pride,
Hang on Her Hoop, and Triumph by Her Side.
Lo! Mid the Ranks, superiour, CUPID moves,
And Issues out His Orders to the Loves;
To These He gave the Lanthorn, and the Tail,
But trebly charg'd 'em to supply the Gale:
A chosen Cohort from the Rest he drew,
And to Their Care assign'd th' important Clue.
“Soon as the Maid in equal Poise sustains,
“And on Her Arm my Bird obliquely leans,
“You forward Haste—(this Glove shall be the Sign)
“With Judgment to contract, or give It Line;

28

“Do You with Caution from the Tail repair,
“But Yield the Lanthorn with distinguish'd Care!
“Who diligent, this Day, attends my Bird,
“His Hand shall, next to CUPID's, Hold the Cord.
The Glove was wav'd—The steady Engine flew,
Sprung into Air, and lessen'd to the View;
Proudly It Sail'd, on crowding Zephyrs born,
And ev'ry Love was Pilot in his Turn:
DIAN transported too, beheld It fly,
And to the Taper grew Her aking Eye.
But CUPID tim'rous saw It's Height in Air,
And thought His Bird too Distant from His Care;
'Twas He The MESSENGER decreed to send,
And wou'd (by Proxy) on His Bird attend:

29

What better than a Billetdeux may prove,
The Tender Representative of LOVE?
Fo lo! The Maid a gilded Sheet imparts,
That breath'd unfeigned Flames, and real Darts.
Led by the Clue, Its rapid Flight It steers,
And to the Bird, his Airy Summons bears.
Ah! What avail It's easy-waving Wings?
And Length of Tail, that boasts Successive Acts of Kings!
How frail our Span of Time! How fix'd its Date,
And greatest Works must one Day yield to Fate!
Sleep-breaking Care, Gay Pleasure, and Pale Woe,
Meet in one Stream! and in one Channel flow!
Virtue but like a shining Vapour flies!
And when it brightest Blazes, soonest Dies!

30

For Juno now (ah! too relentless Queen!)
Saw CUPID's Bird, saw CUPID's Joy with Pain!
Her past Dishonour all Her Breast alarms,
Venus prefer'd, and Her own slighted Charms!
Now from Her Eye a Gleam of Envy breaks,
And all the Goddess to Revenge awakes.
“Shall Juno then Inglorious quit the Field?
“And Unreveng'd the Palm of Beauty yield?
“If Ida's Goddess boasts superiour Charms,
“Why did my Jove prefer me to His Arms?
“But, still Her Impious Hands detain the Prize,
“Her Pow'r encreases! And Her Altars rise!
“While I to partial Fate unheard complain,
“And call for Vengeance to the Gods in vain!
“But swift thro' Æther let my IRIS glide,
“And hang my keenest Scissars by Her Side:

31

“For lo! where yonder glimm'ring Ray appears,
“Her Urchin's Bird it's airy Journey steers!
“There all His Joy on One small Thread depends,
That Cut,—at once His Hope and Empire ends!
She said: and Iris to her Charge repairs,
And reach'd the String, and clos'd the fatal Sheers!
Thrice was the baleful Raven heard to croak,
And Hollow Groans from Heavy Echo's broke!
Schreech-Owls around the dire Event foreshew,
And Cynthia from the Mournful Scene withdrew!
NIGHT, silent, bore It Blazing thro' the Air,
And deck'd Her Mantle with the Rising STAR.