But O thou no less Blind,
Than Wild and Savage Mind,
Who Discipline dar'st name,
Thy Outrage and thy shame,
And hop'st a Radiant Crown to get
All Stars and Glory to thy Head made fit,
Know that this Curse alone shall Serpent-like incircle it!
May'st thou henceforth, be ever seen to stand,
Grasping a Scourge of Vipers in thy Hand,
Thy Hand, that Furie like----But see!
By _Apollos_ Sacred Tree,
By his ever Tuneful Lyre,
And his bright Image the Eternal Fire,
_Eudoras_ she has done this Deed
And made the World thus in its Darling bleed!
I know the Cruel Dame,
Too well instructed by my Flame!
But see her shape! But see her Face!
In her Temple such is _Diana_'s Grace!
Behold her Lute upon the Pavement lies,
When Beautie's wrong'd, no wonder Musick dies!