The fanning wind upon her bosom blows, } To meet the fanning wind the bosom rose; } The fanning wind, and purling streams, continue her repose. } The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes, And gaping mouth, that testified surprise, Fixed on her face, nor could remove his sight, New as he was to love, and novice in delight; Long mute he stood, and, leaning on his staff, His wonder witnessed with an idiot laugh; Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering sense, First found his want of words, and feared offence; Doubted for what he was he should be known, By his clown accent, and his country tone. Through the rude chaos thus the running light Shot the first ray that pierced the native night; Then day and darkness in the mass were mixed, Till gathered in a globe the beams were fixed; Last shone the sun, who, radiant in his sphere, Illumined heaven and earth, and rolled around the year. So reason in this brutal soul began: Love made him first suspect he was a man; Love made him doubt his broad barbarian sound; By love his want of words, and wit, he found; That sense of want prepared the future way To knowledge, and disclosed the promise of a day. What not his father's care, nor tutor's art, Could plant with pains in his unpolished heart, The best instructor, love, at once inspired, As barren grounds to fruitfulness are fired; Love taught him shame, and shame, with love at strife, Soon taught the sweet civilities of life. His gross material soul at once could find Somewhat in her excelling all her kind; Exciting a desire till then unknown, Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone. This made the first impression in his mind, Above, but just above, the brutal kind. For beasts can like, but not distinguish too, Nor their own liking by reflection know; Nor why they like or this or t'other face, Or judge of this, or that peculiar grace; But love in gross, and stupidly admire; As flies, allured by light, approach the fire. Thus our man-beast, advancing by degrees, First likes the whole, then separates what he sees; On several parts a several praise bestows, The ruby lips, the well-proportioned nose, The snowy skin, the raven-glossy hair, } The dimpled cheek, the forehead rising fair, } And even in sleep itself, a smiling air. } From thence his eyes descending viewed the rest, Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving breast. Long on the last he dwelt, though every part A pointed arrow sped to pierce his heart. Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown, (A judge erected from a country clown,) He longed to see her eyes, in slumber hid, And wished his own could pierce within the lid: He would have waked her, but restrained his thought, And love new-born the first good manners taught. An awful fear his ardent wish withstood,