My humble Muse, in unambitious strains, Paints the green forests and the flowery plains, Where Peace descending bids her olives spring, And scatters blessings from her dovelike wing. E’en I more sweetly pass my careless days, Pleas'd in the silent shade with empty praise; Enough for me, that to the listening swains First in these fields I sung the sylvan strains.

THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. 1

AN HEROI-COMICAL POEM.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1712.

For an account of the origin of this poem, see the Me

moir of Pope, prefixed to these volumes.

TO MRS. ARABELLA FERMOR.

MADAM,

Yet

It will be in vain to deny that I have some regard for this piece, since I dedicate it to you. you may bear me witness, it was intended only to divert a few young ladies, who have good sense and good humour enough to laugh not only at their sex's little unguarded follies, but at their own. But as it was communicated with the air of a secret, it soon found its way into the world. An imperfect copy having been offered to a bookseller, you had the good-nature, for my sake, to consent to the publication of one more correct: this I was forced to, before I had executed half my design, for the machinery was entirely wanting to complete it.

The machinery, Madam, is a term invented by the critics, to signify that part which the deities, angels, or demons, are made to act in a poem : for the ancient poets are in one respect like many modern ladies; let an action be never so trivial in

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itself, they always make it appear of the utmost importance. These machines I determined to raise on a very new and odd foundation, the Rosicrucian doctrine of spirits.

I know how disagreeable it is to make use of hard words before a lady; but it is so much the concern of a poet to have his works understood, and particularly by your sex, that you must give me leave to explain two or three difficult terms.

The Rosicrucians are a people I must bring you acquainted with. The best account I know of them is in a French book called " Le Comte de Gabalis," which, both in its title and size, is so like a novel, that many of the fair sex have read it for one by mistake. According to these gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by spirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and salamanders. The gnomes, or demons of earth, delight in mischief; but the sylphs, whose habitation is in the air, are the best-conditioned creatures imaginable; for, they say, any mortal may enjoy the most intimate familiarities with these gentle spirits, upon a condition very easy to all true adepts, an inviolate preservation of chastity.

As to the following cantos, all the passages of them are as fabulous as the vision at the beginning, or the transformation at the end (except the loss