As Vulcan ends, the cheerful queen of charms Clasp'd the new-panting creature in her arms; From that embrace a fine complexion spread, Where mingled whiteness glow'd with softer red. Then in a kiss she breathed her various arts, Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts; A mind for love, but still a changing mind; The lisp affected, and the glance design'd; The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink, The gentle-swimming walk, the courteous sink, 50 The stare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown, For decent yielding, looks declining down, The practised languish, where well-feign'd desire Would own its melting in a mutual fire; Gay smiles to comfort; April showers to move; And all the nature, all the art, of love.
Gold-sceptred Juno next exalts the fair; Her touch endows her with imperious air, Self-valuing fancy, highly-crested pride, Strong sovereign will, and some desire to chide: 60 For which an eloquence, that aims to vex, With native tropes of anger arms the sex.
Minerva, skilful goddess, train'd the maid To twirl the spindle by the twisting thread, To fix the loom, instruct the reeds to part, Cross the long weft, and close the web with art: An useful gift; but what profuse expense, What world of fashions, took its rise from hence!
Young Hermes next, a close-contriving god, Her brows encircled with his serpent rod; 70 Then plots, and fair excuses, fill'd her brain, The views of breaking amorous vows for gain, The price of favours, the designing arts That aim at riches in contempt of hearts; And for a comfort in the marriage life, The little, pilfering temper of a wife.
Full on the fair his beams Apollo flung, And fond persuasion tipp'd her easy tongue; He gave her words, where oily flattery lays The pleasing colours of the art of praise; 80 And wit, to scandal exquisitely prone, Which frets another's spleen to cure its own.
Those sacred virgins whom the bards revere, Tuned all her voice, and shed a sweetness there, To make her sense with double charms abound, Or make her lively nonsense please by sound.
To dress the maid, the decent Graces brought A robe in all the dyes of beauty wrought, And placed their boxes o'er a rich brocade Where pictured loves on every cover play'd; 90 Then spread those implements that Vulcan's art Had framed to merit Cytherea's heart; The wire to curl, the close-indented comb, To call the locks that lightly wander, home; And chief, the mirror, where the ravish'd maid Beholds and loves her own reflected shade.