In ev'ry place is sought, but sought in vain: 110 With such a prize no mortal must be blessed, So heav'n decrees! with heav'n who can contest? Some thought it mounted to the lunar sphere, Since all things lost on earth are treasured there.[517] There heroes' wits are kept in pond'rous vases,[518] 115 And beaus' in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases. There broken vows, and death-bed alms[519] are found, And lovers' hearts with ends of ribbon bound, The courtier's promises, and sick man's pray'rs, The smiles of harlots, and the tears of heirs,[520] 120 Cages for gnats, and chains to yoke a flea, Dried butterflies, and tomes of casuistry. But trust the muse--she saw it upward rise, Though marked by none but quick, poetic eyes:[521] (So Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew, 125 To Proculus alone confessed in view) A sudden star, it shot through liquid air, And drew behind a radiant trail of hair.[522] Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright, The heav'ns bespangling with dishevelled light. 130 The sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, And pleased pursue its progress through the skies.[523] This the beau monde shall from the Mall survey, And hail with music its propitious ray;[524] This the bless'd lover shall for Venus take, 135 And send up vows from Rosamonda's lake;[525] This Partridge[526] soon shall view in cloudless skies, When next he looks through Galileo's eyes;[527] And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. 140 Then cease, bright nymph! to mourn thy ravished hair, Which adds new glory to the shining sphere! Not all the tresses that fair head can boast, Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. For after all the murders of your eye,[528] 145 When, after millions slain,[529] yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, This lock the muse shall consecrate to fame, And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name.[530] 150 THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.--MART. First Edition. * * * * * THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. CANTO I.