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Darkly to wrap a mantle o'er its head,
And page the mystic footsteps of the queen.
Her veil was all undrawn, her eye was fair,
But ah! her cheek grew pale, her lustre dim;
For dark-rob'd night, high-seated on his car,
Was heard to call the wanderer on with him.
Sternly he staid his chariot 'till she came,
His cold eye glancing on her, unapprov'd,
The star attendant glow'd with angry shame,
And rising morn beheld her as she mov'd.
POPE.
"CURST be the verse, how well so e'er it flow,
"That tends to make one honest man my foe,
"Give virtue, scandal; innocence, a fear;
"Or from the soft-ey'd virgin steal a tear."
Too well may be applied to this fine writer, the following imitation.
SHAME to the man! how well so e'er he write,
Who mingles fair with foul, and wrong with right;
Gives pain to virtue, spotted robes to truth,
And crimsons o'er the bashful cheek of youth.
