IV.
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!