220

In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And floating forefts paint the waves with green,
Thro' the fair scene roll flow the ling'ring streams,
Then foaming pour along, and rufh into the Thames.
Thou too, great father of the British floods !
With joyful pride furvey'st our lofty woods;
Where tow ring oaks their growing honours rear,
And future navies on thy fhores appear,
Not Neptune's felf from all her ftreams receives
A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
No feas fo rich, fo gay no banks appear,
No lake fo gentle, and no spring so clear.
Nor Po fo fwells the fabling Poet's lays,
While led along the skies his current strays,
As thine, which vifits Windfor's fam'd abodes,
To grace the manfion of our earthly Gods:
Nor all his ftars above a luftre show,
Like the bright Beauties on thy banks below;
Where Jove, fubdu'd by mortal Paffion still,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.

225

230

Happy the man whom this bright Court approves, His Sov'reign favours, and his Country loves:

Happy

VARIATIONS.

VER. 231. It flood thus in the MS.

And force great Jove, if Jove's a lover ftill,
To change Olympus, etc.

VER. 233.

Happy the man, who to the fhades retires,
But doubly happy, if the Muse inspires!
Bleft whom the fweets of home-felt quiet pleafe;
But far more bleft, who study joins with cafe.

P.

Happy next him, who to these shades retires, 235 Whom Nature charms, and whom the Muse in

fpires;

Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please,
Succeffive study, exercise, and ease.

He gathers health from herbs the foreft yields,
And of their fragrant phyfic spoils the fields:
With chymic art exalts the min'ral pow'rs,
And draws the aromatic fouls of flow'rs:
Now marks the courfe of rolling orbs on high;
O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye;
Of ancient writ unlocks the learned store,
Confults the dead, and lives past ages o'er:
Or wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood,
Attends the duties of the wife and good,
T'observe a mean, be to himself a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end ;

240

245

250 eyes,

255

Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal
Bids his free foul expatiate in the skies,
Amid her kindred ftars familiar roam,
Survey the region, and confefs her home!
Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd,
Thus Atticus, and TRUMBAL thus retir❜d.
Ye facred Nine! that all my foul poffefs,
Whose raptures fire me, and whose visions bless,
Bear me, oh bear me to fequefter'd scenes,
The bow'ry mazes, and furrounding greens: 260
To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill,
Or where ye Mufes fport on COOPER'S HILL.

IMITATIONS.

VER. 249, 50, Servare modum finemque tenere,

Naturamque fequi.

VER. 259. O qui me gelidis, etc.

Lucr.

Virg.

(On

(On COOPER'S HILL eternal wreaths fhall grow,

While latts the mountain, or while Thames fhall

flow)

I seem thro' confecrated walks to rove,

I hear foft mufic die along the grove :

Led by the found, I roam from fhade to fhade
By god-like Poets venerable made :

Here his first lays majestic DENHAM fung;

265

There the laft numbers flow'd from CoWLEY'S

tongue.

O early loft! what tears the river shed,

When the fad pomp along his banks was led?

His drooping fwans on ev'ry note expire,
And on his willows hung each Mufe's lyre.
Since fate relentless stop'd their heav'nly voice,

275

No more the forefts ring, or groves rejoice; 276 Who now shall charm the fhades, where CowLEY

ftrung

His living harp, and lofty DENHAM sung?

But

VER. 270. There the laft numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue] Mr Cowley died at Chertsey, on the borders of the foreft, and was from thence convey'd to Weftminfter. P.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 265. It flood thus in the MS.

Methinks around your holy fcenes I rove,
And hear your mufic echoing thro' the grove:
With tranfport vifit each infpiring fhade
By God-like Poets venerable made.

VER. 273.

What fighs, what murmurs fill'd the vocal fhore!
His tuneful fwans were heard to fing no more.

R

But hark! the groves rejoice, the foreft rings!
Are these reviv'd? or is it GRANVILLE fings? 280
'Tis yours, my Lord, to blefs our foft retreats,
And call the Mufes to their ancient feats ;
To paint anew the flow'ry sylvan scenes,
To crown the forests with immortal greens,
Make Windfor hills in lofty numbers rife,
And lift her turrets nearer to the skies;
To fing those honours you deserve to wear,
And add new luftre to her filver ftar.

285

290

Here noble SURREY felt the facred rage, SURREY, the GRANVILLE of a former age: Matchlefs his pen, victorious was his lance, Bold in the lifts, and graceful in the dance In the fame shades the Cupids tun'd his lyre, To the fame notes, of love, and foft defire: Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow, Then fill'd the groves, as heav'nly Mira now. On would'st thou fing what Heroes Windfor bore, What Kings firft breath'd upon her winding fhore, Or raise old warriours, whofe ador'd remains In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains!

295

With

VER. 289. Here noble Surrey] Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, one of the first refiners of the English poetry ; who flourish'd in the time of Henry VIII. P.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 288. her filver far] All the lines that follow were not added to the poem till the year 1710. What immediately followed this, and made the Conclufion, were these,

My humble Muse in unambitious strains
Paints the green forests and the flow'ry plains;

Where

Stretch his long triumphs down thro' ev'ry age,
Draw Monarchs chain'd, and Creffi's glorious field,
The lillies blazing on the regal shield:

Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,

306

Still in thy fong should vanquish'd France appear,

And bleed for ever under Britain's fpear.

310

Let fofter strains ill-fated Henry mourn, And palms eternal flourish round his urn. Here o'er the Martyr-King the marble weeps, And faft befide him, once-fear'd Edward fleeps: Whom not th' extended Albion could contain, From old Belerium to the northern main, The grave unites; where ev'n the Great find reft, And blended lie th' oppreffor and th' oppreft!

Make facred Charles's tomb for ever known, (Obfcure the place, and un-infcrib'd the ftone)

316

Oh

VER. 301. Edward's acts] Edward III. born here. P.
VER. 309. Henry mourn] Henry VI. P.
VER. 312. once-fear'd Edward fleeps :] Edw. IV. P.

VARIATIONS.

Where I obfcurely pass my careless days,
Pleas'd in the filent fhade with empty praife,
Enough for me that to the lift'ning fwains
First in these fields I fung the fylvan strains.

VER. 305. Originally thus in the MS.

P.

When Brafs decays, when Trophies lie o'erthrown,
And mould'ring into duft drops the proud flone.