up all, and his best clay employ'd; Then call'd the happy composition Floyd.
Or Chloe all the town has rung,
By every size of poets sung:
So beautiful a nymph appears
But once in twenty thousand years;
By nature form'd with nicest care,
And faultless to a single hair.
Her graceful mien, her shape, and face,
Confess'd her of no mortal race:
And then so nice, and so genteel;
Such cleanliness from head to heel:
Epure tout, en ôte l'ignorance,
La gaucherie et l'insipidité.
Fort aisément, dans le séjour céleste,
Le roi des dieux sut trouver sous sa main
Esprit aimable, air noble, orgueil modeste;
Vénus voulut éplucher grain à grain,
Et ne laisser, dans toute la recette,
Rien qui sentit la prude ou la coquette;
Le tout mêlé, fut pétri doucement
Par les amours; la pâte ainsi finie,
Il en sortit un chef-d'œuvre charmant,
Et tous les dieux l'ont nommé Virginie.
Tour Paris a connu Rosette,
Tout Paris chanta ses attraits;
Le ciel, pour la rendre parfaite,
Sur elle épuisa ses bienfaits.
On ne voit si rare merveille
Qu'une fois en quatre mille ans:
Oeil bleu, cou blanc, bouche vermeille,
De blonds cheveux, de belles dents;
Santé d'or, fraîcheur printannière,
Et sur-tout une proprété!....
No humours gross, or frowzy steams,
No noisome whiffs, or sweaty streams,
Before, behind, above, below,
Could from her taintless body flow;
Would so discreetly things dispose,
None ever saw her pluck a rose.
Her dearest comrades never caught her
Squat on her hams, to make maid's water;
You'd swear that so divine a creature
Felt no necessities of nature.
In summer had she walk'd the town,
Her arm-pits would not stain her gown;
At country-dances not a nose
Could in the dog-days smell her toes.
Her milk-white hands, both palms and backs
Like ivory dry, and soft as wax.
Her hands, the softest ever felt,
Though oold would burn, though dry would melt.
Dear Venus, hide this wondrous maid, Nor let her loose to spoil your trade. While she ingrosses every swain,
En haut, en bas, devant, derrière,
Pas un défaut, tout est beauté.
Sa douce peau, sa douce haleine,
Répandaient la plus douce odeur.
Point de vapeurs, point de migraine,
Pas la plus légère sueur.*
Joli petit nez que Rosette
N'eût jamais besoin de moucher.
Bouche appétissante et bien faite,
Et qu'on ne vit jamais cracher.
Même en été, sous ses aisselles,
Sa robe ne déteignait pas ;
Comme si l'amour, de ses ailes,
Eût raffraîchi ses jolis bras.
On aurait dit que la nature,
Pour la former ayant fait choix
D'une essence céleste et pure,
Avait affranchi de ses lois
Cette charmante créature.
Vous qui brillez de mille appas,' Femmes, filles, prudes, coquettes, Blondes, brunes, hélas! vous faites,
si j'en crois ses soubrettes,
Ma rosette ne faisait
Et tu permets ce doux prestige?
Vénus! tremble, cache aux mortels,
Cache, dérobe ce prodige,
You but o'er half the world can reign.
Think what a case all men are now in
What ogling, sighing, toasting, vowing!
What powder'd wigs! what flames and darts!
What hampers full of bleeding hearts!
What sword-knots! what poetic strains!
What billet-doux, and clouded canes!
But Strephon sigh'd so loud and strong
He blew a settlement along;
And bravely drove his rivals down
With coach and six, and house in town.
The bashful nymph no more withstands,
Because her dear papa commands.
The charming couple now unites :
Proceed we to the marriage-rites.
Imprimis, at the temple-porch
Stood Hymen with a flaming torch;
The smiling Cyprian goddess brings
Her infant-loves with purple wings;
And pigeons billing, sparrows treading,
Fair emblems of a fruitful wedding.
The Muses next in order follow,
Conducted by their squire, Apollo;
Then Mercury with silver tongue;
And Hebe, goddess ever young.
Behold, the bridegroom and his bride
Walk hand in hand, and side by side;
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