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That, thrown again upon the coast
Where first my shipwreck'd heart was lost,
I may once more repeat my pain ;
Once more in dying notes complain
Of slighted vows, and cold disdain.


The pride of every grove I chose,

The violet sweet and lily fair, The dappled pink, and blushing rose,

To deck my charming Chloe's hair.

At morn the nymph vouchsaf'd to place

Upon her brow the various wreath ; The flowers less blooming than her face,

The scent less fragrant than her breath.

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The flowers she wore along the day :

And every nymph and shepherd said, That in her hair they look'd more gay

Than glowing in their native bed.

Undrest at evening, when she found

Their odors lost, their colors past; She chang'd her look, and on the ground

Her garland and her eye she cast.

That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,

As any Muse's longue could speak, When from its lid a pearly tear

Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

The reason of the thing is clear
Would Jove the naked truth aver.
Cupid was with him of the party,
And show'd himself sincere and hearty ;
For, give that whipster but his errand,
He takes my lord chief justice' warrant:
Dauntless as Death, away he walks ;
Breaks the doors open, snaps the locks,
Searches the parlor, chamber, study;
Nor stops till he has culprit's body.

“ Since this has been authentic truth,
By age deliver'd down to youth ;
Tell us, mistaken husband, tell us,
Why so mysterious, why so jealous ?
Does the restraint, the bolt, the bar,
Make us less curious, her less fair?
The spy, which does this treasure keep,
Does she ne'er say her prayers, nor sleep?
Does she to no excess incline?
Does she fly music, mirth, and wine?
Or have not gold and flattery power
To purchase one unguarded hour?

“Your care does further yet extend :
That spy is guarded by your friend.-
But has this friend nor eye nor heart?
May he not feel the cruel dart,
Which, soon or late, all mortals feel ?
May he not, with too tender zeal,
Give the fair prisoner cause to see,
How much he wishes she were free?
May he not craftily infer
The rules of friendship too severe,
Which chain him to a hated trust;
Which make him wretched, to be just ?
And may not she, this darling she,

Youthful and healthy, fiesh and blood,
Easy with him, ill us’d by thee,

Allow this logic to be good ?”

“Sir, will your questions never end?
I trust to neither spy nor friend.
In short, I keep her from the sight
Of every human face.”—“She'll write."-
"From pen and paper she's debarr'd."-

Has she a bodkin and a card ?
She 'll prick her mind.”—“She will, you say:
But how shall she that mind convey ?
I keep her in one room : I lock it:
The key, (look here,) is in this pocket.”—
• The key-hole, is that left ?"_" Most cer.

tain."“She'll thrust her letter through, Sir Martin."

"Dear, angry friend, what must be done?
“Is there no way?”—“There is but one.
Send her abroad : and let her see,
That all this mingled mass, which she,
Being forbidden, longs to know,
Is a dull farce, an empty show,
Powder, and pocket-glass, and beau;
A staple of romance and lies,
False tears and real perjuries :
Where sighs and looks are bought and sold.
And love is made but to be told :
Where the fat bawd and lavish heir
The spoils of ruin'd beauty share;
And youth, seduc'd from friends and fame.
Must give up age to want and shame.
Let her behold the frantic scene,
The women wretched, false the men :
And when, these certain ills to shun,
She would to thy embraces run,

Dissembling what I knew too well,

“My love, my life," said I, “ explain This change of humor: prythee tell :

That falling tear—what does it mean ?"


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“At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung ;

The amorous youth around her bow'd : At night her fatal knell was rung;

I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud.

Such as she is, who died to-day;

Such I, alas! may be to-morrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display

The justice of thy Chloe's sorrow."


Miss Danaë, when fair and young,
(As Horace has divinely sung,)
Could not be kept from Jove's embrace
By doors of steel, and walls of brass.

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• Lady Catharine Hyde, now Duchess of Queensberry. | The Earl of Essex married Lady Jane Hyde.

My softest verse, my darling lyre,

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay; When Chloe noted her desire, That I should sing, that I should play

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,

But with my numbers mix my sighs; And, whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,

I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.

Fair Chloe blush'd : Euphelia frown'd;

I sung, and gaz'd; I play'd and trembled : And Venus to the Loves around

Remark’d, how ill we all dissembled.


In imitation of a Greek Idyllium.
Celia and I, the other day,
Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea :
The setting Sun adorn'd the coast,
His beams entire, his fierceness lost :
And, on the surface of the deep,
The winds lay only not asleep:
The nymph did like the scene appear,
Serenely pleasant, calmly fair :
Soft fell her words, as flew the air.
With secret joy I heard her say,
That she would never miss one day
A walk so fine, a sight so gay.

But, oh the change the winds grow high ; [mpending tempests charge the sky;

The lightning flies, the thunder roars,
And big waves lash the frighten'd shores.
Struck with the horror of the sight,
She turns her head, and wings her flight:
And, trembling, vows she'll ne'er again
Approach the shore, or view the main.

“Once more, at least, look back," said I.
Thyself in that large glass descry:
When thou art in good-humor drest;
When gentle reason rules thy breast;
The Sun upon the calmest sea
Appears not half so bright as thee :
'Tis then that with delight I rove
Upon the boundless depth of Love:
I bless my chain; I hand my oar;
Nor think on all I left on shore.

“ But when vain doubt and groundless fear
Do that dear foolish bosom tear;
When the big lip and watery eye
Tell me the rising storm is nigh;
'Tis then, thou art yon angry main,
Deform'd by winds, and dash'd by rain ;
And the poor sailor, that must try
Its fury, labors less than I.

Shipwreck’d, in vain to land I make, While Love and Fate still drive me back : Forc'd to dote on thee thy own way, I chide thee first, and then obey. Wretched when from thee, vex'd when nigh, I with thee, or without thee, die "




Join Gay, a well-krown poet, was born at or near some South-sea stock presented to him by secretary Barnstaple, in Devonshire, in 1688. After an edu. Craggs, raised his hopes of fortune at one time to a cation at the free-school of Barnstaple, he was sent considerable height; but the loss of the whole of to London, where he was put apprentice to a silk- this stock affected him so deeply as to throw him

A few years of negligent attendance on into a dangerous degree of languor, for his recovery the duties of such a station procured him a separa- from which he made trial of the air of Hampstead. tion by agreement from his master; and he not long He then wrote a tragedy called “ The Captives," afterwards addicted himself to poetical composition, of which was acted with applause; and in 1726, he which the first-fruits were his “ Rural Sports," pub- composed the work by which he is best known, his ished in 1711, and dedicated to Pope, then first rising " Fables,” written professedly for the young Duke to fame. In the following year, Gay, who possessed of Cumberland, and dedicated to him. In the manmuch sweetness of disposition, but was indolent and ner of narration there is considerable ease, together improvident, accepted an offer from the Duchess of with much lively and natural painting, but they will Monmouth to reside with her as her secretary. He hardly stand in competition with the French fables had leisure enough in this employment to produce of La Fontaine. Gay naturally expected a handin the same year his poem of “ Trivia, or the Art of some reward for his trouble ; but upon the accession Walking the Streets of London,” which proved one of George II. nothing better was offered him than of the most entertaining of its class. It was much the post of gentleman-usher to the young Princess admired; and displayed in a striking manner that Louisa, which he regarded rather as an indignity talent for the description of external objects which than a favor, and accordingly declined. peculiarly characterized the author.

The time, however, arrived when he had litile In 1714, he made his appearance from the press occasion for the arts of a courtier to acquire a degree on a singular occasion. Pope and Ambrose Philips of public applause greater than he had hitherto ex had a dispute about the respective merits of their perienced. In 1727, his famous “ Beggar's Opera" pastorals ; upon which, Gay, in order to serve the was acted at Lincolns-inn-fields, after having been cause of his friend, undertook to compose a set of refused at Drury-lane. To the plan of burlesquing pastorals, in which the manners of the country should the Italian operas by songs adapted to the most be exhibited in their natural coarseness, with a view familiar tunes, he added much political satire de. of proving, by a sort of caricature, the absurdity of rived from his former disappointments; and the rePhilips's system. The offer was accepted ; and sult was a composition unique in its kind, of which Gay, who entitled his work “The Shepherd's the success could not with any certainty be foreseen. Week,” went through the usual topics of a set of " It will either (said Congreve) take greatly, or be pastorals in a parody, which is often extremely damned confoundedly.” Its fate was for some time humorous. But the effect was in one respect dif- in suspense; at length it struck the nerve of public ferent from his intended purpose ; for his pictures taste, and received unbounded applause. It ran of rural life were so extremely natural and amusing, through sixty-three successive representations in the and intermixed with circumstances so beautiful and metropolis, and was performed a proportional numtouching, that his pastorals proved the most popular ber of times at all the provincial theatres. Its songs works of the kind in the language. This perform- were all learned by heart, and its actors were raised ance was dedicated to Lord Boling broke; and at to the summit of theatric fame. This success, in. this period Gay seems to have obtained a large share deed, seems to indicate a coarseness in the national of the favor of the Tory party then in power. He taste, which could be delighted with the repetition was afterwards nominated secretary to the Earl of of popular ballad-tunes, as well as a fondness for the Clarendon, in his embassy to the court of Hanover; delineation of scenes of vice and vulgarity. Gay but the death of Queen Anne recalled him from his himself was charged with the mischiefs he had thus, situation, and he was advised by his friends not to perhaps unintentionally, occasioned; and if the neglect the opportunity afforded him to ingratiate Beggar's Opera delighted the stage, it encountered himself with the new family. He accordingly wrote more serious censure in graver places than has been a poetical epistle upon the arrival of the Princess of bestowed on almost any other dramatic piece. By Wales, which compliment procured him the honor making a highwayman the hero, he has incurred the of the attendance of the prince and princess at the odium of rendering the character of a freebooter an exhibition of a new dramatic piece.

object of popular ambition; and, by furnishing his Gay had now many friends, as well among per- personages with a plea for their dishonesty drawn sons of rank, as among his brother-poets; but little from the universal depravity of mankind, he has was yet done to raise him to a state of independence. been accused of sapping the foundations of all A subscription to a collection of his poems pub- social morality. The author wrote a second pari lished in 1720, cleared hir a thousand pounds; and of this work, entitled “Polly,” but the Lord Cham berlain refused to suffer it to be performed; and time he employed such intervals of health and spirits though the party in opposition so far encouraged it as he enjoyed, in writing his “ Acis and Galatea," by their subscriptions that it proved more profitable an opera called “Achilles," and a “ Serenata." to him than even the first part, it was a very feeble His death took place in 1732, at the early age of performance, and has sunk into total neglect. forty-four, in consequence of an inflammation of

Gay, in the latter part of his life, received the the bowels. He was sincerely lamented by his kind patronage of the Duke and Duchess of Queens- friends; and his memory was horiored by a monu. berry, who took him into their house, and conde- ment in Westrinster Abbey, and an epitaph in a scended to manage his pecuniary concerns. At this strain of uncommon sensibility by Pope.


Here blooming Health exerts her genıle reign,

And strings the sinews of th' industrious swain
Soon as the morning lark salutes the day,

Through dewy fields I take my frequent way,

Where I behold the farmer's early care

In the revolving labors of the year.

When the fresh Spring in all her state is crown'd

And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground,
-Securi prælia ruris

The laborer with a bending scythe is seen,


Shaving the surface of the waving green;

Of all her native pride disrobes the land,

And meads lays waste before his sweeping hand , You, who the sweets of rural life have known, While with the mounting Sun the meadow glows, Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town; The fading herbage round he loosely throws : In Windsor groves your easy hours employ, But, if some sign portend a lasting shower, And, undisturb'd, yourself and Muse enjoy. Th' experienc'd swain foresees the coming hour, Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows, His sun-burnt hands the scattering fork forsake, And no rude wind through rustling osiers blows, And ruddy damsels ply the saving rake; While all his wondering nymphs around thee In rising hills the fragrant harvest grows, throng,

And spreads along the field in equal rows. (gains To hear the Syrens warble in thy song.

Now when the height of Heaven bright Phælus But I, who ne'er was blest by Fortune's hand, And level rays cleave wide the thirsty plains, Nor brighten'd plowshares in paternal land, When heifers seek the shade and cooling lake, Long in the noisy town have been immur'd, And in the middle path-way basks the snake: Respir'd its smoke, and all its cares endur'd; O lead me, guard me, from the sultry hours, Where news and politics divide mankind, Hide me, ye forests, in your closest bowers, And schemes of state involve th' uneasy mind: Where the tall oak his spreading arms entwines, Faction embroils the world ; and every tongue And with the beach a mutual shade combines ; Is mov'd by flattery, or with scandal hung: Where flows the murmuring brook, inviting dreams Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies, Where bordering hazel overhangs the streams, Where all must yield to interest's dearer ties : Whose rolling current, winding round and round, Each rival Machiavel with envy burns,

With frequent falls makes all the woods resound; And honesty forsakes them all by turns ;

Upon the mossy couch my limbs I cast, While calumny upon each party's thrown,

And e'en at noon the sweets of evening taste. Which both promote, and both alike disown. Here I peruse the Mantuan's Georgic strains, Fatigu'd at last, a calm retreat I chose,

And learn the labors of Italian swains;
And sooth'd my harass'd mind with sweet repose, In every page I see new landscapes rise,
Where fields and shades, and the refreshing clime, And all Hesperia opens to my eyes ;
Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme. I wander o'er the various rural toil,
My Muse shall rove through flowery meads and And know the nature of each different soil :

This waving field is gilded o'er with corn,
And deck with rural sports her native strains ; That spreading trees with blushing fruit adorn:
And the same road ambitiously pursue,

Here I survey the purple vintage grow, Frequented by the Mantuan swain and you. Climb round the poles, and rise in graceful row: "Tis not that rural sports alone invite,

Now I behold the steed curvet and bound, But all the grateful country breathes delight; And paw with restless hoof the smoking ground

The dewlap'd bull now chafes along the plain,

While burning love ferments in every vein ; * This poem received many material corrections from His well-arm'd front against his rival aims, Vie author, after it was first published.

And by the dint of war his mistress claims:

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