Page:The rape of the lock.djvu/55

A wondrous Bag with both her Hands ſhe binds,
Like that where once Ulyſſes held the Winds;
There ſhe collects the Force of Female Lungs,
Sighs, Sobs, and Paſſions, and the War of Tongues.
A Vial next ſhe fills with fainting Fears,
Soft Sorrows, melting Griefs, and flowing Tears.
The Gnome rejoicing bears her Gift away,
Spreads his black Wings, and ſlowly mounts to Day.

Sunk in Thaleſtris' Arms the Nymph he found,
Her Eyes dejected and her Hair unbound.
Full o'er their Heads the ſwelling Bag he rent,
And all the Furies iſſued at the Vent.
Belinda burns with more than mortal Ire,
And fierce Thaleſtris fans the riſing Fire.
O wretched Maid! ſhe ſpread her hands, and cry'd,
(While Hampton's Ecchos, wretched Maid reply'd)
Was it for this you took ſuch conſtant Care
The Bodkin, Comb, and Eſſence to prepare;