BEAUTY. I. Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape, Who dost in ev'ry country change thy shape! Here black, there brown, here tawny, and there white; Thou flatt'rer which compli'st with every sight! Thou Babel which confound'st the eye With unintelligible variety! Who hast no certain what nor where, But vary'st still, and dost thy self declare Inconstant, as thy she-professors are. II. Beauty, love's scene and masquerade, So gay by well-plac'd lights, and distance made; False coin, and which th' impostor cheats us still; The stamp and colour good, but metal ill! Which light, or base, we find when we Weigh by enjoyment and examine thee! For though thy being be but show, 'Tis chiefly night which men to thee allow: And chuse t'enjoy thee, when thou least art thou. III. Beauty, thou active, passive ill! Which dy'st thy self as fast as thou dost kill! Thou Tulip, who thy stock in paint dost waste, Neither for physic good, nor smell, nor taste. Beauty, whose flames but meteors are, Short-liv'd and low, though thou would'st seem a star, Who dar'st not thine own home descry, Pretending to dwell richly in the eye, When thou, alas, dost in the fancy lye. IV. Beauty, whose conquests still are made O'er hearts by cowards kept, or else betray'd; Weak victor! who thy self destroy'd must be When sickness, storms, or time besieges thee! Thou unwholesome thaw to frozen age! Thou strong wine, which youths fever dost enrage, Thou tyrant which leav'st no man free! Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe can be! Thou murth'rer which hast kill'd, and devil which would damn me. HYMN to LIGHT. I. First born of Chaos, who so far didst come, From the old negro's darksome womb! Which when it saw the lovely child, The melancholly mass put on kind looks and smiled. II. Thou tide of glory, which no rest dost know, But ever ebb, and ever flow! Thou golden shower of a true Jove! Who does in thee descend, and Heaven to earth make love! III. Hail active nature's watchful life, and health! Her joy, her ornament and wealth! Hail to thy husband heat, and thee! Thou the world's beauteous bride, the lusty bridegroom he! IV. Say from what golden quivers of the sky, Do all thy winged arrows fly? Swiftness and power by birth are thine, From thy great fire they came, thy fire the word divine. V.