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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 pleafe,
Succeffive ftudy, exercife, and ease.

He gathers health from herbs the forest 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 course of rolling orbs on high;
O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye;
Of ancient writ unlocks the learned ftore,
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'obferve a mean, be to himself a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end;

240

245

Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,

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.

250

255

Ye facred Nine! that all my foul poffefs, Whofe raptures fire me, and whofe vifions blefs, Bear me, oh bear me to fequefter'd fcenes, 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 lafts the mountain, or while Thames fhall

flow)

I feem thro' confecrated walks to rove,

I hear foft mufic die along the grove:

Led by the found, I roam from fhade to shade,
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 fhed,

When the fad pomp along his banks was led?

27x

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,

276

No more the forefts ring, or groves rejoice;
Who now fhall charm the shades, where CowLEY

ftrung

His living harp, and lofty DENHAM fung?

But

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

VARIATIONS.

VER. 265. It flood thus in the MS.

Methinks around your holy scenes I rove,
And hear your mufic echoing thro' the grove:
With transport vifit each inspiring 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.

P.

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 Muses to their ancient feats;
To paint anew the flow'ry fylvan scenes,
To crown the forefts with immortal greens,
Make Windfor-hills in lofty numbers rise,
And lift her turrets nearer to the skies;
To fing thofe honours you deserve to wear,
And add new luftre to her filver star.

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 soft defire: Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow, Then fill'd the groves, as heav'nly Mira now. Oh 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 ftar] 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 Mufe in unambitious strains
Paints the green forefts and the flow'ry plains;

Where

With Edward's acts adorn the fhining page,

Stretch his long triumphs down thro' ev'ry age,

301

Draw Monarchs chain'd, and Creffi's glorious field,
The lillies blazing on the regal fhield:

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

306

Still in thy fong should vanquifh'd France appear,
And bleed for ever under Britain's fpear.

310

Let fofter ftrains 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 stone)

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 pafs my careless days,
Pleas'd in the filent fhade with empty praise,
Enough for me that to the lift'ning fwains
Firft in thefe 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.

4

Oh fact accurft! what tears has Albion shed, Heav'ns, what new wounds! and how her old have

bled?

She faw her fons with purple death expire,

Her facred domes involv'd in rolling fire,

320

A dreadful series of inteftine wars,

Inglorious triumphs and dishonest scars.

324

At length great ANNA faid-"Let Difcord ceafe !"
She faid, the world obey'd, and all was Peace!
In that bleft moment from his Qozy bed
Old father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head.
His treffes drop'd with dews, and o'er the stream
His fhining horns diffus'd a golden gleam: 330
Grav'd on his urn appear'd the moon, that guides
His fwelling waters, and alternate tides;

VARIATIONS.

The

VER. 319. Originally thus in the MS.
Oh fact accurit! oh facrilegious brood,
Sworn to rebellion, principled in blood!
Since that dire morn what tears has Albion shed,
Gods! what new wounds, etc.

VER. 315. Thus in the MS.

Till Anna rofe and bade the Furies ceafe;

Let there be Peace. fhe faid, and all was Peace.

Between Verse 328 and 329, originally stood these lines,

From fhore to fhore exulting fhouts he heard,
O'er all his banks a lambent light appear'd,
With fparkling flames heav'n's glowing concave
fhone,

Fictitious ftars, and glories not her own.
He faw, and gently rofe above the stream;
His fhining horns diffufe a golden gleam:
With pearl and gold his tow'ry front was dreft,
The tributes of the diftant Eaft and Weft.

P.

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