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In vain on father Thames she calls for aid, 195
In a soft, silver stream dissolv'd away.
Thro' the fair scene roll flow the ling'ring streams, Then foaming pour along,and rush into the Thames.
Thou too, great father of the British floods 1 With joyful pride survey'st our lofty woods; Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours rear, And future navies on thy shores appear, 220 Not Neptune's self from all her streams receives A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives. No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear, No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear. Nor Po so swells the fabling Poet's lays, 225 While led along the skies his current strays, As thine, which visits Windsor's fam'd abodes, To grace the mansion of our earthly Gods: Nor all his stars above a lustre show, Like the bright beauties on thy banks below; 2 3 0 Where Jove, subdu'd by mortal passion still, Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.
Variations. Ver. 233.
Happy the man, who to the shades retires,
But doubly happy, if the Muse inspires!
Blest whom the sweets of home-felt quiet please;
But far more blest, who study joins with ease. P. Ver. 231. It stood thus in the MS.
And force great Jove, if Jove's a lover still,
To change Olympus, etc.
Happy the man whom this bright Court approves,
Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,
Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd, 255 ThusAtticus, and Trumbal thus retir'd.
Ye sacred Nine! that all my soul possess, Whose raptures fire me, and whose visions bless, Bear me, oh bear me to sequester'd scenes, The bow'ry mazes, and surrounding greens: 260 To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Muses sport on Cooper's Hill. (On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths shall grow,
While lasts the mountain, or while Thames shall
flow) I seem thro' consecrated walks to rove, 265
I hear soft music die along the grove:
Variations. Ver. 265. It stood thus in the MS. Methinks around your holy scenes I rove, And hear your music echoing thro' the grove: With transport visit each inspiring shade By God-like Poets venerable made. Remarks. Ver. 270. There the last numbers Jlow'dfrom Cowley's tongue'] Mr. Cowley died at Chertsey, on the borders of the forest, and was from thence convey'd to Westminster. P. Imjtat IO.NS. Ver. 259. Oqui me gelidis, etc. Virg.
0 early lost! what tears the river shed, 271
Since fate relentless stop'd their heav'nly voice,
strung His living harp, and lofty Denham fung? But hark! the groves rejoice, the sorest rings! Are these reviv'd? or is it Granville sings! 280 'Tis yours, my Lord, to bless our soft retreats, And call the Muses to their antient feats j To paint anew the flow'ry sylvan scenes, To crown the forests with immortal greens, Make Windsor-hills in lofty numbers rife, 285 And lift her turrets nearer to the skies j To sing those honours you deserve to wear. And add new lustre to her silver star.
Variations. Ver. 273. What sighs, what murmurs fill'd the vocal shore! His tuneful swans were heard to sing no more. P. Ver. 288. her silver Jar.] All the lines that follow were not added to the poem till the year 1710. What immediately foK lowed this, and made the conclusion, were these, My humble Muse in unambitious strains Paints the green forests and the flow'ry plains j