The Works of Henry Fielding/The Queen of Beauty, t'other day

THE Queen of Beauty, t'other day (As the Elysian journals say). To ease herself of all her cares, And better carry on affairs; By privy-council mov'd above, And Cupid minister of love, To keep the earth in due obedience, Resolv'd to substitute vice-regents; To canton out her subject lands, And give the fairest the commands.

She spoke, and to the earth's far borders Young Cupid issued out his orders, That every nymph in its dimensions Shall bring or send up her pretensions. Like lightning swift the order flies, Or swifter glance from Celia's eyes: Like wit from sparkling W&mdash;tley's tongue, Or harmony from Pope, or Young. Why should I sing what letters came; Who boasts her face, or who her frame? From black and brown, and red, and fair. With eyes and teeth, and lips and hair. One, fifty hidden charms discovers; A second boasts as many lovers: This beauty all mankind adore; And this all women envy more. This witnesses, by billets doux, A thousand praises, and all true; While that by jewels makes pretences To triumph over kings and princes; Bribing the goddess by that pelf, By which she once was brib'd herself. So borough towns, election brought on, E'er yet corruption bill was thought on. Sir Knight, to gain the voters' favour, Boasts of his former good behaviour; Of speeches in the Senate made; Love for its country, and its trade. And, for a proof of zeal unshaken, Distributes bribes he once had taken. What matters who the prizes gain, In India, Italy, or Spain; Or who requires the brown commanders Of Holland, Germany, and Flanders. Thou, Britain, on my labours smile, The Queen of Beauty's favour'd isle; Whom she long since hath priz'd above The Paphian, or the Cyprian grove. And here, who ask the muse to tell, That the court lot to R&mdash;chmond fell? Or who so ignorant as wants To know that S&mdash;per's chose for Hants? Sarum, thy candidates be nam'd, Sarum, for beauties ever fam'd, Whose nymphs excel all beauty's flowers, As thy high steeple doth all towers. The court was plac'd in manner fitting; Venus upon the bench was sitting; Cupid was secretary made. The crier an O Yes display'd; Like mortal crier's loud alarum. Bring in petitions from New Sarum. When lo, in bright celestial state, Jove came and thunder'd at the gate. 'And can you, daughter, doubt to whom '(He cried) belongs the happy doom, 'While C&mdash;cks yet make bless'd the earth, 'C&mdash;cks, who long before their birth, 'I, by your own petition mov'd, 'Decreed to be by all belov'd. 'C&mdash;cks, to whose celestial dower 'I gave all beauties in my power; 'To form whose lovely minds and faces, 'I stripp'd half heaven of its graces. 'Oh let them bear an equal sway, 'So shall mankind well-pleas'd obey.' The god thus spoke, the goddess bow'd; Her rising blushes straight avow'd Her hapless memory and shame, And Cupid glad writ down their name.