With varying Vanities, from ev'ry Part,
They ſhift the moving Toyſhop of their Heart;
Where Wigs with Wigs, with Sword-knots Sword-knots ſtrive,
Beaus baniſh Beaus, and Coaches Coaches drive.
This erring Mortals Levity may call,
Oh blind to Truth! the Sylphs contrive it all.
A watchful Sprite, and Ariel is my Name.
Late, as I rang'd the Crystal Wilds of Air,
In the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star
I saw, alas! ſome dread Event impend,
E're to the Main this Morning Sun deſcend.
But Heav'n reveals not what, or how, or where:
Warn'd by thy Sylph, oh Pious Maid beware!
This to diſcloſe is all thy Guardian can.
Beware of all, but moſt beware of Man!
Leapt up, and wak'd his Miſtreſs with his Tongue.
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The RAPE of the LOCK.