)
With earnest eyes, and round, unthinking face,
He first the snuff-box open'd, then the case,
And thus broke out--'My Lord, why, what the devil?
Z--ds! damn the lock! 'fore Gad, you must be civil!
Plague on't! 'tis past a jest--nay, prithee, pox!
Give her the hair'--he spoke, and rapp'd his box. 130
'It grieves me much' (replied the Peer again)
Who speaks so well should ever speak in vain;
'But by this lock, this sacred lock I swear,
(Which never more shall join its parted hair;
Which never more its honours shall renew,
Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew)
That while my nostrils draw the vital air,
This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.'
He spoke, and, speaking, in proud triumph spread
The long-contended honours of her head. 140
But Umbriel, hateful Gnome! forbears not so;
He breaks the vial whence the sorrows flow.
Then see! the nymph in beauteous grief appears,
Her eyes half-languishing, half-drown'd in tears;
On her heaved bosom hung her drooping head,
Which, with a sigh, she raised; and thus she said:
'For ever cursed be this detested day,
Which snatch'd my best, my favourite curl away!
Happy! ah, ten times happy had I been,
If Hampton Court these eyes had never seen! 150
Yet am not I the first mistaken maid,
By love of courts to numerous ills betray'd.
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