Anne Kingsmill Finch, Countess of Winchilsea - All is Vanity (Chap.4) lyrics

As Vain is Beauty, and as short her Power; Tho' in its proud, and transitory Sway, The coldest Hearts and wisest Heads obey That gay fantastic Tyrant of an Hour. On Beauty's Charms, (although a Father's Right, Though grave Seleucus! to thy Royal Side By holy Vows fair Stratonice be ty'd) With anxious Joy, with dangerous Delight, Too often gazes thy unwary Son, Till past all Hopes, expiring and undone, A speaking Pulse the secret Cause impart; The only time, when the Physician's Art Could ease that lab'ring Grief, or heal a Lover's Smart. See Great Antonius now impatient stand, Expecting, with mistaken Pride, On Cydnus crowded Shore, on Cydnus fatal Strand, A 1 Queen, at his Tribunal to be tried, A Queen that arm'd in Beauty, shall deride His feeble Rage, and his whole Fate command: Over the still Waves her burnish Galley moves, Row'd by the Graces, whilst officious Loves To silken Cords their busies Hands apply, Or gathering all the gentle Gales that fly, To their fair Mistress with these Spoils repair, And from their purple Wings disperse the balmy Air. Hovering Perfumes ascend in odorous Clouds, Curl o'er the Barque, and play among the Shrouds; Whilst gently dashing every Silver Oar, Guided by the Rules of Art, With tuneful Instruments designed To soften, and subdue the stubborn Mind, A strangely pleasing and harmonious Part In equal Measures bore. Like a new Venus on her native Sea, In midst of the transporting Scene, (Which Pen or Pencil imitates in vain) On a resplendent and conspicuous Bed, With all the Pride of Persia loosely spread, The lovely Syrene lay. Which but discerned from the yet distant Shore, Th' amazed Emperor could hate no more; No more a baffled Vengeance could pursue; But yielding still, still as she nearer drew, When Cleopatra anchored in the Bay, Where every Charm could all its Force display, like his own Statue stood, and gazed the World away. Where ends alas! this Pageantry and State; Where end the Triumphs of this conquering Face, Envy'd of Roman Wives, and all the Female Race? Oh swift Vicissitude of Beauty's Fate! Now in her Tomb withdrawn from public Sight, From near Captivity and Shame, The vanquished, the abandoned Dame Proffers the Arm, that held another's Right, To the destructive Snake is more just Embrace, And courts deforming d**h, to mend his Leaden Pace. NOTES : 1 [AF] Cleopatra's coming down the Cydnus, exactly agreeing with the Description of it in Plutarch.