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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420380" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fan : A Poem. Book II.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Olympus' gates unfold: in heaven's high towers<br>Appear in council all the immortal powers;<br>Great Jove above the rest exalted sate,<br>And in his mind revolv'd succeeding fate,<br>His awful eye with ray superior shone,<br>The thunder-grasping eagle guards his throne<br>On silver clouds the great assembly laid,<br>The whole creation at one view survey'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But see, fair Venus comes in all her state;<br>The wanton Loves and Graces round her wait;<br>With her loose robe officious Zephyrs play,<br>And strow with odoriferous flowers the way.<br>In her right hand she waves the fluttering fan,<br>And thus in melting sounds her speech began.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Assembled powers, who fickle mortals guide,<br>Who o'er the sea, the skies and earth preside,<br>Ye fountains whence all human blessings flow,<br>Who pour your bounties on the world below;<br>Bacchus first rais'd and prun'd the climbing vine,<br>And taught the grape to stream with generous wine;<br>Industrious Ceres tam'd the savage ground,<br>And pregnant fields with golden harvest crown'd;<br>Flora with bloomy sweets enrich'd the year,<br>And fruitful autumn in Pomona's care.<br>I first taught woman to subdue mankind,<br>And all her native charms with dress refin'd,<br>Celestian synod, this machine survey,<br>That shades the face, or bids cool zephyrs play;<br>If conscious blushes on her cheek arise,<br>With this she veils them from her lover's eyes;<br>No levell'd glance betrays her amorous heart,<br>From the fan's ambush she directs the dart.<br>The royal sceptre shines in Juno's hand,<br>And twisted thunder speaks great Jove's command;<br>On Pallas' arm the Gorgon shield appears,<br>And Neptune's mighty grasp the trident bears;<br>Ceres is with the bending suckle seen,<br>And the strong bow points out the Cynthian queen;<br>Henceforth the waving fan my hand shall grace,<br>The waving fan supply the sceptre's place.<br>Who shall, ye powers, the forming pencil hold?<br>What story shall the wide machine unfold?<br>Let Loves and Graces lead the dance around,<br>With myrtle wreaths and flowery chaplet's crown'd, <br>Let Cupid's arrows strow the smiling plains<br>With unresisting nymphs, and amorous swains:<br>May glowing picture o'er the surface shine,<br>To melt slow virgins with the warm design.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Diana rose; with silver crescent crown'd,<br>And fixt her modest eyes upon the ground;<br>Then with becoming mien she rais'd her head,<br>And thus with graceful voice the virgin said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Has woman then forgot all former wiles,<br>The watchful ogle, and delusive smiles?<br>Does man against her charms too powerful prove,<br>Or are the sex grown novices in love?<br>Why then these arms? or why should artful eyes,<br>From this slight ambush, conquer by surprise?<br>No guilty thought the spotless virgin knows,<br>And o'er her cheek no conscious crimson glows;<br>Since blushes then from shame alone arise,<br>Why should we veil them from her lover's eyes?<br>Let Cupid rather give up his command,<br>And trust his arrows in a female hand.<br>Have not the gods already cherish'd pride,<br>And woman with destructive arms supply'd?<br>Neptune on her bestows his choicest stores,<br>For her the chambers of the deep explores:<br>The gaping shell its pearly charge resigns,<br>And round her neck the lucid bracelet twines:<br>Plutus for her bids earth its wealth unfold,<br>Where the warm oar is ripen'd into gold:<br>Or where the ruby reddens in the soil,<br>Where the green emerald pays the searcher's toil.<br>Does not the diamond sparkle in her ear,<br>Glow on her hand, and tremble in her hair?<br>From the gay nymph the glancing lustre flies,<br>And imitates the lightning of her eyes.<br>But yet it Venus' wishes must succeed,<br>And this fantastic engine be decreed,<br>May some chaste story from the pencil flow,<br>To speak the virgin's joy, and Hymen's wo.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here let the wretched Ariadne stand,<br>Seduc'd by Theseus to some desert land.<br>Her locks dishevell'd waving in the wind,<br>The crystal tears confess her tortur'd mind;<br>The perjur'd youth unfurls his treacherous sails,<br>And their white bosoms catch the swelling gales.<br>Be still, ye winds, she cries, stay, Theseus, stay:<br>But faithless Theseus hears no more than they.<br>All desperate, to some craggy cliff she flies,<br>And spreads a well-known signal in the skies;<br>His less'ning vessel ploughs the foamy main,<br>She sighs, she calls, she waves the sign in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Paint Dido there amidst her last distress,<br>Pale cheeks and blood-shot eyes her grief express;<br>Deep in her breast the reeking sword is drown'd,<br>And gushing blood streams purple from the wound;<br>Her sister Anna hovering o'er her stands,<br>Accuses heaven with lifted eyes and hands,<br>Upbraids the Trojan with repeated cries,<br>And mixes curses with her broken sighs.<br>View this, ye maids; and then each swain believe;<br>They're Trojans all, and vow but to deceive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here draw Oenone in the lonely grove,<br>Where Paris first betrayed her into love;<br>Let wither'd garlands hand on every bough,<br>Which the false youth wove for Oenone's brow,<br>The garlands lose their sweets, their pride is shed,<br>And like their odours all his vows are fled;<br>On her fair arm her pensive head she lays,<br>And Xanthus' waves with mournful look surveys;<br>That flood which witness'd his inconstant flame,<br>When thus he swore, and won the yielding dame:<br>'These streams shall sooner to their fountain move,<br>Than I forget my dear Oenone's love.'<br>Roll back, ye streams, back to your fountain run,<br>Paris is false, Oenone is undone.<br>Ah wretched maid! think how the moments flew,<br>Ere you the pangs of this curs'd passion knew,<br>When groves could please, and when you lov'd the plain,<br>Without the presence of your perjur'd swain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus may the nymph, whene'er she spreads the fan,<br>In his true colours view perfidious man,<br>Pleas'd with her virgin state in forests rove,<br>And never trust the dangerous hopes of love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The goddess ended. Merry Momus rose,<br>With smiles and grins he waggish glances throws,<br>Then with a noisy laugh forestalls his joke,<br>Mirth flashes from his eyes while thus he spoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rather let heavenly deeds be painted there,<br>And by your own examples teach the fair.<br>Let chaste Diana on the piece be seen,<br>And the bright crescent own the Cythian queen:<br>On Latmos' top see young Endymion lies,<br>Feign'd sleep hath clos'd the bloomy lover's eyes,<br>See, to his soft embraces how she steals,<br>And on his lips her warm caresses seals:<br>No more her hand the glittering javelin holds,<br>But round his neck her eager arms she folds.<br>Why are our secrets by our blushes shown?<br>Virgins are virgins still - while 'tis unknown.<br>Here let her on some flowery bank be laid,<br>Where meeting beeches weave a grateful shade,<br>Her naked bosom wanton tresses grace,<br>And glowing expectation paints her face.<br>O'er her fair limbs a thin loose veil is spread,<br>Stand off, ye shepherds; fear Actaeon's head:<br>Let vigorous Pan the unguarded minute seize,<br>And in a shaggy goat the virgin please.<br>Why are our secrets by our blushes shown?<br>Virgins are virgins still - while 'tis unknown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There with just warmth Aurora's passion trace,<br>Let spreading crimson stain her virgin face:<br>See Cephalus her wanton airs despise,<br>While she provokes him with desiring eyes:<br>To raise his passion she displays her charms,<br>His modest hand upon her bosom warms:<br>Nor looks, nor prayers, nor force his heart persuade,<br>But with disdain he quits the rosy maid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here let dissolving Leda grace the toy, <br>Warm her cheeks and heaving breasts reveal her joy;<br>Beneath the pressing swan she pants for air,<br>While with his fluttering wings he fans the fair.<br>There let all-conquering gold exert its power,<br>And soften Danae in a glittering shower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would you warn beauty not to cherish pride,<br>Nor vainly in the treacherous bloom confide,<br>On the machine the sage Minerva place,<br>With lineaments of wisdom mark her face;<br>See, where she lies near some transparent flood,<br>And with her pipe cheers the resounding wood:<br>Her image in the floating glass she spies,<br>Her bloated cheeks, worn lips, and shrivell'd eyes;<br>She breaks the guiltless pipe, and with disdain<br>Its shatter'd ruins flings upon the plain.<br>With the loud reed no more her cheek shall swell,<br>What, spoil her face! no: warbling strains, farewell.<br>Shall arts, shall sciences employ the fair?<br>Those trifles are beneath Minerva's care.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From Venus let her learn the married life,<br>And all the virtuous duties of a wife.<br>Here on a couch extend the Cyprian dame,<br>Let her eye sparkle with the growing flame<br>The god of war within her clinging arms,<br>Sinks on her lips, and kindles all her charms.<br>Paint limping Vulcan with a husband's care,<br>And let his brow the cuckold's honours wear;<br>Beneath the net the captive lovers place,<br>Their limbs entangled in a close embrace.<br>Let these amours adorn the new machine,<br>And female nature on the piece be seen;<br>So shall the fair, as long as fans shall last,<br>Learn from your bright examples to be chaste.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Gay">John Gay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420380" data-title="The Fan : A Poem. Book II. de John Gay" data-description="Olympus' gates unfold: in heaven's high towers
Appear in council all the immortal powers;
Great Jove above the rest exalted sate,
And in his mind revolv'd succeeding fate,
His awful eye with ray superior shone,
The thunder-grasping eagle guards hi..."></div>
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