To bring on pensive looks the pleasing smile,
And Care’s stern brow of every frown beguile. 
These magic favours graced the infant-maid,
Whose more enlivening smile the charming gifts repaid. 
   Now Fortune changed, who, were she constant long,
Would leave us few adventures for our song. 
A wicked elfin roved this land around,
Whose joys proceeded from the griefs he found;
Envy his name:  —­his fascinating eye
From the light bosom drew the sudden sigh;
Unsocial he, but with malignant mind,
He dwelt with man, that he might curse mankind;
Like the first foe, he sought th’ abode of Joy
Grieved to behold, but eager to destroy;
Round blooming beauty, like the wasp, he flew,
Soil’d the fresh sweet, and changed the rosy hue;
The wise, the good, with anxious heart he saw,
And here a failing found, and there a flaw;
Discord in families ’twas his to move,
Distrust in friendship, jealousy in love;
He told the poor, what joys the great possess’d;
The great, what calm content the cottage bless’d: 
To part the learned and the rich he tried,
Till their slow friendship perish’d in their pride. 
Such was the fiend, and so secure of prey,
That only Misery pass’d unstung away. 
   Soon as he heard the fairy-babe was born,
Scornful he smiled, but felt no more than scorn: 
For why, when Fortune placed her state so low,
In useless spite his lofty malice show? 
Why, in a mischief of the meaner kind,
Exhaust the vigour of a ranc’rous mind;
But, soon as Fame the fairy-gifts proclaim’d,
Quick-rising wrath his ready soul inflamed
To swear, by vows that e’en the wicked tie,
The nymph should weep her varied destiny;
That every gift, that now appear’d to shine
In her fair face, and make her smiles divine,
Should all the poison of his magic prove,
And they should scorn her, whom she sought for love. 
   His spell prepared, in form an ancient dame,
A fiend in spirit, to the cot he came;
There gain’d admittance, and the infant press’d
(Muttering his wicked magic) to his breast;
And thus he said:  —­“Of all the powers who wait
On Jove’s decrees, and do the work of fate,
Was I, alone, despised or worthless, found,
Weak to protect, or impotent to wound? 
See then thy foe, regret the friendship lost,
And learn my skill, but learn it at your cost. 
   “Know, then, O child! devote to fates severe,
The good shall hate thy name, the wise shall fear;
Wit shall deride, and no protecting friend
Thy shame shall cover, or thy name defend. 
Thy gentle sex, who, more than ours, should spare
A humble foe, will greater scorn declare;
The base alone thy advocates shall be,
Or boast alliance with a wretch like thee.” 
   He spake, and vanish’d, other prey to find,
And waste in slow disease the conquer’d mind. 
   Awed by the elfin’s threats, and fill’d with dread