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Four figures rising from the work appear
The various seasons of the rolling year;
And what is that which binds the radiant sky,
Where twelve fair signs in beauteous order lie?
Then sing by turns, by turns the Muses sing ;
STREPHON. Let vernal airs through trembling osiers play, Inspire me, Phæbus, in my Delia's praise, And Albion's cliffs resound the rural lay.
With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving layg! You that, too wise for pride, too good for power, A milk-white bull shall at your altars stand, Enjoy the glory to be great no more,
That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand. And, carrying with you all the work I can boast, To all the world illustriously are lost! O let my Muse her slender reed inspire,
O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, 49 Till in your native shades you tune the lyre :
And make my tongue victorious as her eyes ; So when the nightingale to rest removes,
No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, 'The thrush inay chant to the forsaken grores,
Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's hearts But charm'd to silence, listens while she sings, And all th' aërial audience clap their wings.
Me gentle Delia beckons froin the plain, Soon as the flocks shook off the nightly dews, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; Two swains, whom love kept wakeful, and the Muse, But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care, And by that laugh the willing fair is found. Fresh as the morn, and as the season fair: The dawn now blushing on the mountain's side, The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green, Thus Daphnis spoke, and Strephon thus reply'd. She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen ;
While a kind glance at her pursuer flies, Hear how the birds, on every bloomy spray,
How much at variance are her feet and eyes ! With joyous music wake the dawning day !
STALPHON. Why sit we mute, when early linnets sing,
O’er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, 61 When warbling Philomel saliites the Spring? And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Why sit we sad, wlien Phosphor shines so clear, And lavish Nature paints the purple year? STREPHON,
Ver. 49. Originally thus in the MS. Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, Pan, let my numbers equal Strephon's lays, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. Of Parian stone thy statue will I raise ; Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow;
But if I conquer, and augment my folu, Here western winds on breathing roses blow.
Thy Parian statue shall be chang'd to gold. I'll stake yon larnb, that near the fountain plays, Ver. 61. It stood thus at first : And from the brink his dancing shade surveys. 34 Let rich Iberia golden fleeces boast, DAPHNIS.
Her purple wool the proud Assyrian coast,
Blest Thames's shores, &c.
Go, flowery wreath, and let my Sylvia know,
Compar'd to thine how bright her beauties Ver. 34. The first reading was,
show : And his own image from the bank surveys. Then die; and dying, teach the lovely maid Ver. 36, And clusters lurk beneath the curling vines. How soon the brightest beauties are decay'da VOL XII.
TO DR, CARTH.
Blest Thames's shores the brightest beauties yield,
THE SECOND PASTORAL, OR ALEXIS
Where dancing sun-bcams on the waters play'd,
And verdant alders form'd a quivering shade.
Soft as lie mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow,
The Naiads wept in every watery bower, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing.
And Jove consented in a silent shower.
Accept, O Garth, the Muse's early lays, All Nature laughs, the groves are fresh and That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; The San's milf lustre warms the vital air; (fair, 69 Hear what from love unpractis'd hearts endure, If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure. And vanquisb'd Nature seems to charm no more. Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams,
Detence from Phæbus', not from Cupid's beams,
To you I mourn; nor to the deaf I sing, In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love,
The woods shall answer, and their echo ring. At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove, The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay, But Delia always; absent from her sight,
Why art thou proudler and inure hard than they? Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight. The bleating sheep with my complaints agree, DAPHNIS.
They parch'd with heat, and I mtiam'd by thee. Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May,
The sultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day;
While in thy heart eternal winter reigns. Ev'n spring displeases, when she shines not here;
Where stray ye, Muses, in what lawn or grove, But, bless'd with her, 'tis spring throughout the year.
While your Alexis pines in hopeless love:
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
Once I was skilled in every berb) that grew, Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields
And every plant that drinks the morning dew; The thistle springs, to which the lily yieds:
Ah, wretched shepherd, what avails thy art, And then a nobler prize I will resign;
To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart !
Let other swains attend the rural care, For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine.
Feed fairer flocks, or vicber fleeces sheer:
But nigh yon mountain let me tune my lays, Cease to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree, Embrace my love, and bind my brows with bays. The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee. That flute is mine which'Colin's tuneful breath Blest swains, whose nymphs in every grace excel; Inspir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death : Blest nymphs,whose swains those graces sing so well! He said : Alexis, take this pipe, the same Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bowers, That taught the groves my Rosalinda's nanie. A soft retreat from sudden vernal showers;
But now the reeds shall hang on yonder tree, The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd, 99 For ever silent, since despis'd hy thee. While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around. O! were I made by soine transtorn:ing power For see! the gathering flocks to shelter tend, The captive bird that sings within thy bower! And from the Pleiads fruitful showers descend. Then might my voice thy listoping cars einploy,
And I those kisses he receives enjoy.
All Nature mourns, the birds their songs deny,
The turf with country dainties shall be spread,
A faithful swain, whom love had taught to sing,
There to the winds he plain'd his hapless lose,
And Amaryllis fill'd the vocal grove.
Oft in the crystal spring I cast a view,
And yet my numbers please the rural throng, Whose sense instructs us and whose humour charms, Rough satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song: Whose judgment sways us, and whose spirit warms /
The nymphs, forsaking every cave and spring, Oh, skill'd in Nature ! see the hearts of swains, Their early fruit and milk-white turtles bring ! Their artless passions, and their tender pains. Fach amorous nymph prefers her gifts in vain, Now setting Phohus shone serenciy bright, On you their gifts are all bestow'd again :
And fleecy clouds were streak'd with purple light ; For you the swains the fairest flowers design, When tuneful Hylas, with melodious moan, And in one garland all their beauties joins Taught rocks to weep, and made the mountains Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
groan. In whom all beauties are compris'd in one.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! See what delights in sylvan scenes appear ! To Delia's ear the tender notes convey. Descending gods have found Elysium here. As some sad turtle his lost love deplores, In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd, And with deep murmurs fills the sounding shores ; And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade.
Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I mouru, Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours, Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn. When swains froin shearing seek their nightly bowers; Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along! When weary reapers quit the sultry field, For her, the feather'd quires neglect their song: And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield. For her, the limes their pleasing shades deny ! This harmless grove no lurking viper hides, For her, the lilics hang their heads and die. But in my breast the serpent Love abides. Ye flowers that droop, forsaken by the Spring, Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew,
Ye birds, that, left by Summer, cease to sing, But your Alexis knows no sweets but you.
Ye trees that fade when Autumn heats remove, Oh deign to visit our forsaken scats,
Say, is not absence death to those who love? The mossy fountains, and the green retreats! Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade; Curs'd be the fields that cause my Delia's stay; Trees, where you sit, shall croud into a shade : Fade every blossom, wither every tree, Where'er you tread, the blushing flowers shall rise, Die every tlower, and perish all, but she. And all things flourish where you turn your eyes. What have I said? where'er my Delia flies, Oh! how I long with you to pass my days, Let Spring attend, and sudden flowers arise ! Inroke the Muses, and resound your praise ! Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn, Your praise the birds shall chant in every grove, 79 | And liquid amber drop from every thorn. And winds shall waft it to the powers above.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along!
But see, the shepherols shun the noon-day heat, Not balmy sleep to labourers faint with pain,
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away!
Ye powers, what pleasing frenzy soothg my mind !
And cease, ye gules, to bear any sighs away!
Next iÆgon sing, while Windsor groves admir'd;
Rehearse, ye Muscs, what yourselves inspir'd. THE THIRD PASTORAL, OR HYLAS AND Ægos,
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain!
Of perjur'd Doris, dying I complain; Beneath the shade a spreading beech displays,
Here where the mountains, lessening as they rise,
Lose the low vales, and stcal into the skies; Hylas and Ægon sung their rural lays :
While labouring oxen, spatit with toil and heat, This mourn'J a faithless, that an absent love;
In their loose traces from the field retreat ; And Delia's name and Doris' tillid the grove.
While curling smokes from village-tops are seen, Ye Mantuan nymphs, your sacred succours bring; | And the ticet shades glide o'er the dusky grcen. Hylas and Egon's rural lays I sing.
Resound, ye bills, resound my mournful lay! Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit inspire, Beneath yon poplar oft we pass'd the day: The art of Terence and Menander's fire ;
Oft on the rind I carv'd her amorous vows,
While she with garlands hung the bending boughs: VARIATIONS. Ver. 79, 80.
The garlands fade, the vows are worn away;
So dits her love, and so my hopes decay.
VARIATIONS. So the verses were originally written; but the Ver. 48. Originally thus in the MS. author, young as he was, soon found the absurdity, With him through Libya's buming plains i'll go, which Spenser himself over-looked, of introducing Od Alpide mountains tread th' eternal snov; wolves into England.
Yet feel 'no heat but what our loves impart, Ver. 91. Me Love inflames, nor will his fires allay. And dread so coldness but in Thyrsis' heart
TO MR. WYCHERLEY.
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain! 1" Let Nature change, let Heaven and Earth deplore, Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain ;
Fair Daphne's dead, and Love is now no more!" Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine,
"Tis done, and Nature's various charms decay: 29 And grateful clusters swell with floods of wine ; See gloomy clouds obscure the cheerful day! Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove ;
Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear, Just gods ! shall all things yield returns but love! Their faded honours scatter'd on her bier. Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay!
See where, on earth, the flowery glories lie; The shepherds cry, “ 'Thy flocks are left a prey.” With her they flourish'd, and with her they die. Ah! what awails it me the flocks to keep,
Ah, what avail the beauties Nature wore? Who lost my heart while I preservd my sheep?
Fair Daphne's dead, and Beauty is no more! Pan came, and ask'd, what magic caus'd my sinart,
For her the focks refuse their verdant food, Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart?
The thirsty heifers shun the gliding flood :
Resoumd, ye hills, resound my mournful strains ! In hollow caves sweet Echo silent lies,
Silent, or only to her naine replies ;
Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore, Forsake mankind, and all the world-hut love! Now Daphne's dead, and Pleasure is no more! I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred,
No grateful dews descend from evening skies, Wolves gave thee suck, and savage tigers fed.
Nor morning odours from the Rowers arise ; Thou wert from Etna's burning entrajls torn,
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born! Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield. Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay!
The balmy Zephyrs, silent since her death, Farewell, ye woods, adieu the light of day!
Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath ; One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains;
Th’industrious becs neglect their golden store ; No more, ye hills, no more resound my strains !
Fair Daphine's dead, and Sweetness is no more Thus sung the shepherds till th’approach of night,
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings, The skies yet blushing with departed light,
Shall, listening in mid ait, guspend their wings; When falling dew's with spangles deck the glade,
No more the birds shall imitate her lays,
Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays:
But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore,
Fair Daphne's dead, and Music is no more!
Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze,
And told in sighs to all the trembling trees;
Her fate remurmur to the silver flood :
The silver flood, so lately calm, appears
Swell'd with new passion, and o'erflows with tears; Is not so mournful as the strains you sing ;
The winds, and trees, and foods, her death deplore, Nor rivers winding through the rales below,
Dapbne our grief! our glory now no more! So sweetly warble, or so smoothiy flow.
But see! where Daphne wondering mounts on Now sleeping Mocks on their soft fleeces lie,
Above the clouds, above the starry sky! [high The Moon, serene in glory, mounts the sky,
Eternal beauties grace the shining scene, While silent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green!
There while you rest in Amaranthine bowers,
Behold us kindly, who your nanie implore,
How all things listen, while thy Muse complains ! That callid the listening Dryads to the plain? Such silence waits on Philomela's strains, Thames heard the numbers as he flow'd along,
In some still evening, when the whispering breeze And bade his willows learn the moving song. Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.
To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb shall bleed, So may kind rains their vital moisture yield,
Iftecining ewes increase my fleecy breed. (give, 83 And swell the future harvest of the field.
While plants their shade, or flowers their odours Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave, Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise, shall live! And said, “ Ye shepherds sing around iny grave!"
THYRSIS. Sing, while beside the shaded tomb I mourn,
But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews;
Ver. 29. Originally thus in the MS.
Behold, the clouds have “put their mourning on." And break your bows as when Adonis dy'd ;
Ver. 83. Originally thus in the MS. And with your golden darts, now useless grown,
While vapours rise, and driving snows descend, Inscribe a verse on this relenting stone :
Thy honour, name, and praise, shall never endo
TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. TEMPEST.
Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay,
From Jesse's' root behold a branch arise, Time conquers all, and we must Time obey. Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies : Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams, and Th’ æthereal spirit o'er its leaves shall niove, groves;
89 And on its top descends the mystic Dove.
From storm a shelter, and from heat a shade.
Returning Justice* lift aloft her scale;
Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend,
And white-rob'd Innocence from Heaven descend.
Swift Ny the years, and rise th' expected morn!
Oh spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born! ADVERTISEMENT.
See, Nature hastes ber earliest wreaths to bring, 23 In reading several passages of the prophet Isaiah, With all the incense of the br athing spring:
which foretel the coming of Christ, and the See lofty Lebanon his head advance, felicities attending it, I could not but observe a Ste nodding forests on the mountains dance: remarkable parity between many of the thoughts, See spicy clouds from lowly Saron rise, and those in the Pollio of Virgil. This will not And Carmel's flowery top perfumes the skies! seem surprising, when we reflect, that the Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers; 29 Fclogue was taken from a Sibyline prophecy on Prepare the way! a God, a God appears ! the same subject. One may judge that Virgil
IMITATIONS. did not copy it line for line; but selected such ideas as best agreed with the nature of pastoral shall conceive and bear a Son--Chap. ix. ver.0,
Isaiah, ch. vii. ver. 14. " Behold a Virgin poetry, and disposed them in that manner which served most to beautify his piece. I have the Prince of Peace : of the increase of his govern
7. I'nto us a Child is born ; unto us a Son is given; endeavoured the same in this imitation of him, ment, and of his peace, there shall be no end : though without admitting any thing of my own; Upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdoin, since it was written with this particular view, to order and to establish it, with judgment and that the reader, by comparing the several with justice, for ever and ever.” thoughts, might see how far the images and descriptions of the prophet are superior to those Ver. 23. See Nature hastes, &c.]. Virg. Ed. iv. of the poet. But as I fear I have prejudiced ver. 18. them by my inanagement, I shall subjoin the At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultu, passages of Isaiah, and those of Virgil, under
Errantes hederas passim cum baccare tellus, the same disadvantage of a literal translation. Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho
Ipsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores.
“ For thee, O Child, shall the Earth, without MESSLAH,
being tilled, produce her early offerings ; winding
ivy, mixed with baccar, and colocassia with smilYz nymphs of Solyma! begin the song:
ing acanthus. Thy cradle shall pour forth pleasTo heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
ing flowers about thee."
Isaiah. Ch. xxxi. ver. 1. “ The wilderness and The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades, The dreams of Pindus and th' Aonian maids,
the solitary place shall be glad, and the desert Delight no more thou my voice inspire
shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." Ch. Ix. ver. Who touch'd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire !
13. “ The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, Rapt into future times, the bard beguu :
the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son!
to beautify the place of thy sanctuary."
Virg. Ecl. iv, ver. 46. Ver. 89, &c.). These four last lines allude to the Aggredere ô magnos (aderit jam tempus), honores, several subjects of the four pastorals, and to the Cara deûm soboles, magnum Jovis incrementum several scenes of them particularized before in Ecl. v. ver 62. each.
Ipsa lætitiâ voces ad sidera jactant
Intonsi montes, ipsæ jam carmina rupes, Ver. 8. A Virgin shall conceiveAll crimes shall Ipsa sonant arbusta, Deus, Deus ille Menalca! cease, &c.] Virg. Ecl. iv. ver. 6.
“ O come and receive the mighty honours : the Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna;
time draws nigh, o beloved offspring of the gods ! Jam nova progenies cælo demittitur alto. O great increase of Jove! The uncultivated moun
Te duce, siqua maneant sceleris vestigia nostri, tains send shouts of joy to the stars; the very Irrita perpetua solvent formidine terras rocks sing in verse, the very shrubs cry out, A
Pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem. God, a God!" “Now the Virgin returns, now the kingdom of Isaiah, Ch. xl. ver. 3, 4. “ The voice of him Saturn returns, now a new progeny is sent down that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way from high Heaven. By means of thee, whatever of the Lord ! make straight in the desert a highreliques of our crimes remain, shall be wiped away. way for our God! Every valley shall be exalted and free the world from perpetual fears. He shall 1 Isai. xi. ver. 1.
2 Ch. xlv. ver. 8. govern the Earth in peace, with the virtues of his 3 Ch. xxv. ver. 4.
• Ch. ix ver. 7. Father."
$ Ch. XXXV. ver. 2. • Ch. xl. ver. 3, 4
A SACRED ECLOGUE.