Beneath the magic of her touch behold
Transformed at once the warlike aims of old!
The mighty falchion to a penknife shrinks,
The mailed meshes from the purse's links;
The sturdy lance a bodkin now appears,
A bunch of tooth-picks once a hundred spears;
A painted toy behold the keen-edged axe!
See men of iron turned to dolls of wax!
The once broad shield contracted now in span
Raised as a screen or fluttered as a fan;
The gleaming helm a hollow thimble proves,
And weighty gauntlets dwindle into gloves.
The plumes that winged the arrow through the sky,
Waft to and fro the shuttlecock on high;
Two trusty swords are into scissors cross'd,
And dinted breastplates are in corsets lost;
While dungeon chains to gentler use consigned,
Now silken laces, tighten stays behind.
Approach! nor weapons more destructive fear,
Where'er ye turn, than pins and needles here.
While hobbling Age along the pathway crawls,
By aid of crutch to scale the Castle's walls:
With eager steps advance, ye generous youths,
Draw purses all, and strip the loaded booths.
Bear each away some trophy from the steep,
Take each a keepsake ere ye quit the keep!
Come, every stranger, every guest draw nigh!
No peril waits you save from beauty's eye.
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