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The RAPE of the LOCK.
Which never more its Honours ſhall renew,
Clipt from the lovely Head where late it grew)
That while my Noſtrils draw the vital Air,
This Hand, which won it, ſhall for ever wear.
He ſpoke, and ſpeaking, in proud Triumph ſpread
The long-contended Honours of her Head.
Clipt from the lovely Head where late it grew)
That while my Noſtrils draw the vital Air,
This Hand, which won it, ſhall for ever wear.
He ſpoke, and ſpeaking, in proud Triumph ſpread
The long-contended Honours of her Head.
But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not ſo;
He breaks the Vial whence the Sorrows flow.
Then ſee! the Nymph in beauteous Grief appears'
Her Eyes half languiſhing, half drown'd in Tears,
On her heav'd Boſom hung her drooping Head,
Which, with a Sigh, ſhe rais'd; and thus ſhe ſaid.
He breaks the Vial whence the Sorrows flow.
Then ſee! the Nymph in beauteous Grief appears'
Her Eyes half languiſhing, half drown'd in Tears,
On her heav'd Boſom hung her drooping Head,
Which, with a Sigh, ſhe rais'd; and thus ſhe ſaid.
For ever curs'd be this deteſted Day,
Which ſnatch'd my beſt, my fav'rite Curl away!
Happy! ah ten times happy, had I been,
If Hampton-Court theſe Eyes had never ſeen!
Yet am not I the firſt miſtaken Maid,
By love of Courts to num'rous Ills betray'd.
Which ſnatch'd my beſt, my fav'rite Curl away!
Happy! ah ten times happy, had I been,
If Hampton-Court theſe Eyes had never ſeen!
Yet am not I the firſt miſtaken Maid,
By love of Courts to num'rous Ills betray'd.
Oh
