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: (Thus Rome's great founder to the heav'ns withdrew, 170 To Proculus alone confessed in view) A sudden star, it shot through liquid air, And drew behind a radiant trail of hair. Not Berenice's locks first rose so bright, The skies bespangling with dishevelled light. 175 This the beau monde shall from the Mall survey, } As through the moonlight shade they nightly stray, } And hail with music its propitious ray; } This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies, When next he looks through Galileo's eyes; 180 And hence th' egregious wizard shall foredoom The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. 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, 185 Shall draw such envy as the lock you lost. For after all the murders of your eye, When, after millions slain, yourself shall die; When those fair suns shall set, as set they must, And all those tresses shall be laid in dust, 190 This lock the muse shall consecrate to fame, And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name. * * * * * ELEGY TO THE MEMORY OF AN UNFORTUNATE LADY. See the Duke of Buckingham's verses to a Lady designing to retire into a Monastery compared with Mr. Pope's Letters to several Ladies, p. 206 [86], quarto edition. She seems to be the same person whose unfortunate death is the subject of this poem.[531]--POPE.