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THE
Rape of the Lock.
CANTO II.
Not with more Glories, in th' Etherial Plain,
The Sun firſt riſes o'er the purpled Main,
Than iſſuing forth, the Rival of his Beams
Lanch'd on the Boſom of the Silver Thames.
Fair Nymphs, and well-dreſt Youths around her ſhone,
But ev'ry Eye was fixt on her alone.
On her white Breaſt a ſparkling Croſs ſhe wore,
Which Jews might kiſs, and Infidels adore.
The Sun firſt riſes o'er the purpled Main,
Than iſſuing forth, the Rival of his Beams
Lanch'd on the Boſom of the Silver Thames.
Fair Nymphs, and well-dreſt Youths around her ſhone,
But ev'ry Eye was fixt on her alone.
On her white Breaſt a ſparkling Croſs ſhe wore,
Which Jews might kiſs, and Infidels adore.
Her
