ZEPHIR
:
or
,
the
STRATAGEM
.
BY
THE
SAME
.
Egregiam
vero
laudem
et
spolia
ampla
refertis
,
Una
dolo
Divûm
si
Foemina
victa
duorum
est
.
VIRG.
THE
ARGUMENT
.
A
certain
young
lady
was
surprized
,
on
horse-back
,
by
a
violent
storm
of
wind
and
rain
from
the
SOUTH-WEST
;
which
made
her
dismount
,
somewhat
precipitately
.
THE
God
,
in
whose
gay
train
appear
Those
gales
that
wake
the
purple
year
;
Who
lights
up
health
and
bloom
and
grace
In
NATURE's
,
and
in
MIRA's
face
;
To
speak
more
plain
,
the
western
wind
,
Had
seen
this
brightest
of
her
kind
:
Had
seen
her
oft
with
fresh
surprize
!
And
ever
with
desiring
eyes
!
Much
,
by
her
shape
,
her
look
,
her
air
,
Distinguish'd
from
the
vulgar
fair
;
More
,
by
the
meaning
soul
that
shines
Thro'
all
her
charms
,
and
all
refines
.
Born
to
command
,
yet
turn'd
to
please
,
Her
form
is
dignity
,
with
ease
:
Then
—
such
a
hand
,
and
such
an
arm
,
As
age
or
impotence
might
warm
!
Just
such
a
leg
too
,
ZEPHIR
knows
,
The
Medicéan
VENUS
shows
!
So
far
he
sees
;
so
far
admires
.
Each
charm
is
fewel
to
his
fires
:
But
other
charms
,
and
those
of
price
,
That
form
the
bounds
of
PARADISE
,
Can
those
an
equal
praise
command
;
All
turn'd
by
Nature's
finest
hand
?
Is
all
the
consecrated
ground
With
plumpness
,
firm
,
with
smoothness
,
round
?
The
world
,
but
once
,
one
ZEUXIS
saw
,
A
faultless
form
who
dar'd
to
draw
:
And
then
,
that
all
might
perfect
be
,
All
rounded
off
in
due
degree
,
To
furnish
out
the
matchless
piece
,
Were
rifled
half
the
toasts
of
GREECE
.
'Twas
PITT's
white
neck
,
'twas
DELIA's
thigh
;
'Twas
WALDEGRAVE's
sweetly-brilliant
eye
;
'Twas
gentle
PEMBROKE's
ease
and
grace
,
And
HERVEY
lent
her
maiden-face
.
But
dares
he
hope
,
on
BRITISH
ground
,
That
these
may
all
,
in
one
,
be
found
?
These
chiefly
that
still
shun
his
eye
?
He
knows
not
;
but
he
means
to
try
.
AURORA
rising
,
fresh
and
gay
,
Gave
promise
of
a
golden
day
,
Up
,
with
her
sister
,
MIRA
rose
,
Four
hours
before
our
London
beaus
;
For
these
are
still
asleep
and
dead
,
Save
ARTHUR's
sons
—
not
yet
in
bed
.
A
rose
,
impearl'd
with
orient
dew
,
Had
caught
the
passing
fair
one's
view
;
To
pluck
the
bud
he
saw
her
stoop
,
And
try'd
,
behind
,
to
heave
her
hoop
:
Then
,
while
across
the
daisy'd
lawn
She
turn'd
,
to
feed
her
milk-white
fawn
,
Due
westward
as
her
steps
she
bore
,
Would
swell
her
petticoat
,
before
;
Would
subtley
steal
his
face
between
,
To
see
—
what
never
yet
was
seen
!
"
And
sure
,
to
fan
it
with
his
wing
,
No
nine-month
symptom
e'er
can
bring
:
His
aim
is
but
the
nymph
to
please
,
Who
daily
courts
his
cooling
breeze
.
"
But
listen
,
fond
believing
maid
:
When
Love
,
soft
traitor
,
would
persuade
,
With
all
the
moving
skill
and
grace
Of
practic'd
passion
in
his
face
,
Dread
his
approach
,
distrust
your
power
—
For
oh
!
there
is
one
shepherd's
hour
:
And
tho'
he
long
,
his
aim
to
cover
,
May
,
with
the
friend
,
disguise
the
lover
,
The
sense
,
or
nonsense
,
of
his
wooing
Will
but
adore
you
into
ruin
.
But
,
for
those
butterflies
,
the
beaus
,
Who
buzz
around
in
tinsel-rows
,
Shake
,
shake
them
off
,
with
quick
disdain
:
Where
insects
settle
,
they
will
stain
.
Thus
,
ZEPHIR
oft
the
nymph
assail'd
,
As
oft
his
little
arts
had
fail'd
:
The
folds
of
silk
,
the
ribs
of
whale
,
Resisted
still
his
feeble
gale
.
With
these
repulses
vex'd
at
heart
,
Poor
ZEPHIR
has
recourse
to
art
:
And
his
own
weakness
to
supply
,
Calls
in
a
brother
of
the
sky
,
The
rude
South-West
;
whose
mildest
play
Is
war
,
mere
war
,
the
Russian
way
:
A
tempest-maker
by
his
trade
,
Who
knows
to
ravish
,
not
persuade
.
The
terms
of
their
aëreal
league
,
How
first
to
harrass
and
fatigue
,
Then
,
found
on
some
remoter
plain
,
To
ply
her
close
with
wind
and
rain
;
These
terms
,
writ
fair
and
seal'd
and
sign'd
Should
WEB
or
STUKELY
wish
to
find
,
Wise
antiquaries
,
who
explore
All
that
has
ever
pass'd
—
and
more
;
Tho'
here
too
tedious
to
be
told
,
Are
yonder
in
some
cloud
enroll'd
,
Those
floating
registers
in
air
:
So
let
them
mount
,
and
read
'em
there
.
The
grand
alliance
thus
agreed
,
To
instant
action
they
proceed
;
For
'tis
in
war
a
maxim
known
,
As
PRUSSIA's
monarch
well
has
shown
,
To
break
,
at
once
,
upon
your
foe
,
And
strike
the
first
preventive
blow
.
With
TORO's
lungs
,
in
TORO's
form
,
Whose
very
how-d'ye
is
a
storm
,
The
dread
South-West
his
part
begun
.
Thick
clouds
,
extinguishing
the
sun
,
At
his
command
,
from
pole
to
pole
Dark-spreading
,
o'er
the
fair
one
roll
;
Who
,
pressing
now
her
favourite
steed
,
Adorn'd
the
pomp
she
deigns
to
lead
.
O
MIRA
!
to
the
future
blind
,
Th'
insidious
foe
is
close
behind
:
Guard
,
guard
your
treasure
,
while
you
can
;
Unless
this
God
should
be
the
man
.
For
lo
!
the
clouds
,
at
his
known
call
,
Are
closing
round
—
they
burst
!
they
fall
!
While
at
the
charmer
,
all-aghast
,
He
pours
whole
winter
in
a
blast
:
Nor
cares
,
in
his
impetuous
mood
,
If
navies
founder
on
the
flood
;
If
BRITAIN's
coast
be
left
as
bare
The
very
day
on
which
the
fleet
under
admiral
HAWKE
was
blown
into
TORBAY
.
As
he
resolves
to
leave
the
fair
.
Here
,
Gods
resemble
human
breed
;
The
world
be
damn'd
—
so
they
succeed
.
Pale
,
trembling
,
from
her
steed
she
fled
,
With
silk
,
lawn
,
linen
,
round
her
head
;
And
,
to
the
fawns
who
fed
above
,
Unveil'd
the
last
recess
of
love
.
Each
wondering
fawn
was
seen
to
bound
Immemor
herbarum
quos
est
mirata
Juvenca
.
VIRG.
,
Each
branchy
deer
o'erleap'd
his
mound
,
At
sight
of
that
sequester'd
glade
,
In
all
its
light
,
in
all
its
shade
,
Which
rises
there
for
wisest
ends
,
To
deck
the
temple
it
defends
.
Lo
!
gentle
tenants
of
the
grove
,
For
what
a
thousand
heroes
strove
,
When
EUROPE
,
ASIA
,
both
in
arms
,
Disputed
one
fair
lady's
charms
.
The
war
pretended
HELEN's
eyes
Et
suit
ante
HELENAM
,
&c.
HOR.
;
But
this
,
believe
it
,
was
the
prize
.
This
rous'd
ACHILLES'
mortal
ire
,
This
strung
his
HOMER's
epic
lyre
;
Gave
to
the
world
LA
MANCHA's
knight
,
And
still
makes
bulls
and
heroes
fight
.
Yet
,
tho'
the
distant
conscious
muse
This
airy
rape
delighted
views
;
Yet
she
,
for
honour
guides
her
lays
,
Enjoying
it
,
disdains
to
praise
,
If
Frenchmen
always
fight
with
odds
,
Are
they
a
pattern
for
the
gods
?
Can
Russia
,
can
th'
Hungarian
vampire
A
certain
mischievous
demon
that
delights
much
in
human
blood
;
of
whom
there
are
many
stories
told
in
Hungary
.
,
With
whom
cast
in
the
SWEDES
and
empire
,
Can
four
such
powers
,
who
one
assail
,
Deserve
our
praise
,
should
they
prevail
?
O
mighty
triumph
!
high
renown
!
Two
gods
have
brought
one
mortal
down
;
Have
club'd
their
forces
in
a
storm
,
To
strip
one
helpless
female
form
!
Strip
her
stark
naked
;
yet
confess
,
Such
charms
are
Beauty's
fairest
dress
!
But
,
all-insensible
to
blame
,
The
sky-born
ravishers
on
flame
Enchanted
at
the
prospect
stood
,
And
kiss'd
with
rapture
what
they
view'd
.
Sleek
S**R
too
had
done
no
less
?
Would
parsons
here
the
truth
confess
:
Nay
,
one
brisk
PEER
,
yet
all-alive
,
Would
do
the
same
,
at
eighty-five
We
believe
there
is
a
mistake
in
this
reading
;
for
the
person
best
informed
and
most
concerned
assures
,
that
it
should
be
only
seventy-five
.
.
But
how
,
in
colours
softly-bright
,
Where
strength
and
harmony
unite
,
To
paint
the
limbs
,
that
fairer
show
Than
MESSALINA's
borrow'd
snow
;
To
paint
the
rose
,
that
,
thro'
its
shade
,
With
theirs
,
one
human
eye
survey'd
;
Would
gracious
PHOEBUS
tell
me
how
,
Would
he
the
genuine
draught
avow
,
The
muse
,
a
second
TITIAN
then
,
To
fame
might
consecrate
her
pen
!
That
TITIAN
,
Nature
gave
of
old
The
queen
of
beauty
to
behold
,
Like
MIRA
unadorn'd
by
dress
,
But
all-complete
in
nakedness
:
Then
bade
his
emulating
art
Those
wonders
to
the
world
impart
.
Around
the
ready
graces
stand
,
His
tints
to
blend
,
to
guide
his
hand
.
Each
heightening
stroke
,
each
happy
line
,
Awakes
to
life
the
form
divine
;
Till
rais'd
and
rounded
every
charm
,
And
all
with
youth
immortal
warm
,
He
sees
,
scarce
crediting
his
eyes
,
He
sees
a
brighter
VENUS
rise
!
But
,
to
the
gentle
reader's
cost
,
His
pencil
with
his
life
,
was
lost
:
And
MIRA
must
contented
be
,
To
live
by
RAMSAY
,
and
by
ME
.