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12
The RAPE of the LOCK.
Fair Treſſes Man's Imperial Race inſnare,
And Beauty draws us with a ſingle Hair.
And Beauty draws us with a ſingle Hair.
Th' Adventrous Baron the bright Locks admir'd,
He ſaw, he wiſh'd, and to the Prize aſpir'd:
Reſolv'd to win, he meditates the way,
By Force to raviſh, or by Fraud betray;
For when Succeſs a Lover's Toil attends,
Few ask, if Fraud or Force attain'd his Ends.
He ſaw, he wiſh'd, and to the Prize aſpir'd:
Reſolv'd to win, he meditates the way,
By Force to raviſh, or by Fraud betray;
For when Succeſs a Lover's Toil attends,
Few ask, if Fraud or Force attain'd his Ends.
For this, e're Phæbus roſe, he had implor'd
Propitious Heav'n, and ev'ry Pow'r ador'd,
But chiefly Love———to Love an Altar built,
Of twelve vaſt French Romances, neatly gilt.
There lay the Sword-knot Sylvia's Hands had ſown,
With Flavia's Busk that oft had rapp'd his own:
A Fan, a Garter, half a Pair of Gloves;
And all the Trophies of his former Loves.
With tender Billet-doux he lights the Pyre,
And breaths three am'rous Sighs to raiſe the Fire.
Propitious Heav'n, and ev'ry Pow'r ador'd,
But chiefly Love———to Love an Altar built,
Of twelve vaſt French Romances, neatly gilt.
There lay the Sword-knot Sylvia's Hands had ſown,
With Flavia's Busk that oft had rapp'd his own:
A Fan, a Garter, half a Pair of Gloves;
And all the Trophies of his former Loves.
With tender Billet-doux he lights the Pyre,
And breaths three am'rous Sighs to raiſe the Fire.
Then
