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lince by this, besides the general moral of inno Of the following eclogues I shall only say, that cence and forplicity, which is common to other these four comprehend all the subjects which the authors of paftoral, he has one peculiar to himself; critics upon Theocritus and Virgil will allow to be compares human life to the several seasons, be fit for pastoral: That they have as much vaand at once exposes to his readers a view of the riety of description, in respect of the several seagreat and little worlds, in their various changes sons, as Spenser's : That, in order to add to this. and aspeds. Yet the scrupulous division of his variety, the several times of the day are observed, paftorals into months, has obliged him either to the rural employments in each season or time of repeat the same description, in other words, for day, and the rural scenes or places proper to such three months together; or, when it was exhauft. employments; not without some regard to the ed before, entirely to omit it : whence it comes to several ages of man, and the different paslions pass that some of his eclogues (as the sixth, eighth, proper to each age. and tenth, for example) have nothing but their But after all, if they have any merit, it is to be titles to diftinguish them. The reason is evident, attributed to some good old authors, whose works because the year has not that variety in it to fur- as I had leisure to tudy, so, I hope, I have nes pish every month with a particular description, as wanted care to imitate. it may every season.





First in these fields I try the fylvan strains,

Nor blush to sport on Windsor's blissful plains : And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines,
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy facred spring, And swelling clusters bend the curling vines :
While on thy banks Sicilian muses fing;

Four figures rising from the work appear,
Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play, The various seasons of the rolling year;
And Albion's cliffs resound the rural lay. And what is that, which binds the radiant sky,
Youth at, too wise for pride, too good for Where twelve fair signs in beauteous order lie? 10

Enjoy the glory to be great no more,

Then sing by turns, by turns the muses fing; And, carrying with you all the world can boast, Now hawthorns bloffam, now the daisies spring, To all the world illustriously are loft! 10 Now leaves the trees, and lowers adorn the O let my muse her fender reed inspire,

Till in your native thades you tune the lyre : Begin, the vales shall every note rebound.
So when the nightingale to rest removes,

The thrush may chant to the forsaken groves, Inspire me, Phæbus, in my Delia's praise,
But charm'd to filence, listens while she sings, With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays!
And all th' aërial audience clap their wings. A milk-white bull shall at your altars stand,

Soon as the flocks fhook off the nightly dews, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand.
Two swains, whom love kept wakeful, and the


O Love ! for Sylvia let me gain the prize,
Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes; so
Fresh as the morn, and as the season fair : 20 No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart,
The dawn now blushing on the mountain's side, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart.
Thus Daphnis spoke, and Strephon thus reply'd.


Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain,
Hear how the birds, on every bloomy spray, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain;
With joyous music wake the dawning day! But feigns a laugh, to see me search around,
Why fit we mute, when early linnets fing, And by that laugh the willing fair is found.
When warbling Philomel falutes the spring ?

Why fit we sad, when Phosphor shines so clear, The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green,
And lavish nature paints the purple year? She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen;

While a kind glance at her pursuer flies,
Sirg then, and Damon shall attend the strain, How much at variance are her feet and eyes : 60
Wh le yon' flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. 30
Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow;
Here western winds on breathing roses blow,

I'll stake yon' lamb, that near the fountain plays, Ver. 36. And clusters lurk beneath the curling
And from the brink his dancing shade surveys.


Ver. 49. Originally thus in the MS.

Pan, let my numbers equal Strephon's lays,

Of Parian Itone thy flatue will I raise ;
Ver. 34. The first reading was, But if I conquer, and augment my fold,
And his own image from the bank surveys, Thy Parian Itatue shall be chang'd to gold.





If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, O'er golden sands let rich Padolus flow, And vanquish'd nature seems to charm no more. And trees weep amber on the banks of Po;

STREPHON. Blett Thames's fhores the brightest beauties In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love, yield ;

At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove, Feed here my lambs, I'll seek no distant field. But Delia always; absent from her fight, DAPHNIS.

Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight. 80 Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves; Dians Cyathus, Ceres Hybla loves.

Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, If Windsor fhades delight the matchless maid, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windsor shade. Ev'n spring displeases, when she shines not here; STREPHON.

But, bless'd with her, 'tis spring throughout the All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers,

year. Hush'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping

STREPHON. flowers;

70 Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears, V Delia smile, the flowers begin to spring, A wondrous tree that facred monarch bears; The kies to brighten, and the birds to ling. Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, DRPHNIS.

And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes. All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair, The sun's mild luftre warms the vital air ; Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields

The thistle springs, co which the lily yields : 90

And then a nobler prize I will resign;

For Sylvia, charming Sylvia shall be thine.
Ver. 61. It food thus at first :

Let rich Iberia golden fleeces boast,

Ceafe to contend; for, Daphnis, I decrce Her purple wool the proud Assyrian coast, The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee. Blek Thames's fores, &c.

Bleft swains, whose nymphs in every grace excel; Ver. 61. Originally thus in the MS. Bleft nymphs, whose swains those graces fing so Go, fowery wreath, and let my Sylvia know,

well! Compar'd to thine how bright her beauties Thew : Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bowers,

Then die; and dying, teach the lovely maid A soft retreat from sudden vernal showers;
How soon the brightest beauties are decay'd.

The turf with rular dainties shall be crown'd,

While opening blooms diffuse their sweets aGo, tuneful bird, that pleas’d the woods so long,

round. of Amaryllis learn a sweeter fong :

For fee! the gathering flocks to shelter tend, To heaven arising then her notes convey,

And from the pleiads fraitful showers descend. For heav'n alone is worthy such a lay.

Va 69. These verses were thus at first: All nature mourns, the birds their songs deny,

VARIATIONS. Nor wasted brooks the thirsty flowers fupply;

Ver. 99. was originally, Delia smile, the flowers begin to spring, The curf with country dainties shall be spread, The brooks to murmur, and the birds to ling. And trecs with twining branches shade your head.

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TO DR. GARTH, A SEEPHERD'S boy (he seeks no better name) Soft as he mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow, Led forth his flocks along the filver Thame, The flocks areund a dumb compassion Thew, Where dancing sun-beams on the waters play'd, And verdant alders form'd a quivering fhade.


Where gentle Thames his winding waters leads VARIATIONS.

Through verdant forests, and through flowery Ver. 1, 2, 3, 4. were thus printed in the firkt meads. edition.

Ver. 3. Originally thus in the MS. A faithful swain, whom love had taught to fing, There to the winds he plain'd his hapless love, Bywail'd bis fate bebids a lilver spring i And Amyrillis fill'd the vocal grove.


The Naiads wept in every watery bower, Each amorous nymph prefers her gifts in vain, And Jove consented in a silent shower.

On you their gifts are all bestow'd again, Accept, O Garth, the muse's early lays,

For you the (wains the fairelt flowers deliga, That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; And in one garland all their beauties join ; Hear what fr in love unpractis'd hearts endure, Accept the wreach which you deserve alone, From love, the sole diseale thou canst not cure. In whom all beauties are compris'd in one.

Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams, See what delights in sylvan scenes appear ! Defence from Phæbus', not fron Cupid's beams, Descending Gods have found Elyfium here. 60 To you I mourn; nor to the deaf ! sing,

In woods bright Venus with Adonis ftray'd, The woods fball answer, and their echo ring. And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade. The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay, Come, lovely nymph, and bless the filent hours, Why art thou prouder and more hard than they? When swains from theering seek their nightly The bleating sheep with my complaints agree,

bowers; They parch'd with heat, and I infam'd by thee. 30 When weary reapers quit the sultry field,

The Tultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains, Andcrown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield. While in thy heart eternal winter reigas.

This harmless grove no lurking viper hides, Where stray ye, muses, in what lawn or grove, But in my breat the serpent Love abides. While your Alexis pines in hopeless love? Here becs from blossoms lip the rosy dew, In those fair fields where sacred Ilis glides, But your Alexis kn ws no Tweets but you. Or else where Cam his winding vales divides? Oh deign to visit our forsaken seats, As in the cryllal spring I view my face,

The mosly fountains, and the green retrcats! Fresh rising blushes paint the watery glass; Where'er you walk, cool gales Mhall fan the glade; But since those graces please thy eyes no more, Trees, where you fit, shall crowd into a fhade : i thun the fountains which I fought before. 30 Where'er you tread, the blusing flowers fhall rise, Once I was skill'd in every herb that grew, And all tings flourish where you turn your eyes. And every plant that drinks the morning dew; Oh! how : long with you to pass my days, Ah, wretched shepherd, what avails chy art, Invoke the mules, and resound your praise ! To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart ! Your praise the birds shall chant in every grove, Let other swains attend the rural care,

And winds shall wafı it to the powers above. 8e Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces sheer :

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain, But nigh'yon' mountain let me tunc my lays, l'he wondering forests soon should dance again, Einbrace my love, and bind my brows with bays. l'he moving mountains hear the powerful call, That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath

And headlong itreans hang listening in their fall! Inspir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death : 40 But see, the shepherds thun the noon-day heat, He said; Alexis, take this pipe, the same

The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat, That taught the groves my Rosalinda's name : To closer thades the panting flocks remove; But now the reeds shall hang on yonder tree, Ye gods, and is there no relief for love! For ever filent, since despis'd by thee.

But soon the sun with milder rays descends O! were I made by some transforming power To the cool occan, where his journey ends : 90 The captive bird that sings within thy bower! On me love's fiercer flames for ever prey, Then might my voice thy listening cars employ, By night he scorches, as he burns by day. And I those kifles he receives enjoy.

And yet my numbers please the rural throng, Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song: 50

VARIATIONS. The nymphs, forfaking every cave and spring,

Ver. 79, 80. Their early fruit and milk-white turtles bring ! Your praise the tuneful birds to heaven shall bear,

And listening wolves grow milder as they hear, VARIATIONS.

So the verses were originally written; but the au

thor, young as he was, so n found the absurdity, Oft in the crystal spring I cast a view,

which Spenfer himself overlooked, of introducing And equall'd Hylas, if che glass be true ;

wolves into England. But fince those graces mect my eyes no more, Ver. 91. Me love inflames, nor will his fires allay. I fun, &c.

Ver. 27.

A U T U M N.



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Beneath the shade a spreading beech displays,

Not showers to larks, or sunshine to the bee, Hylas and Ægon sung their rural lays :

Are half fo charming as thy sight to me This mouro'd a faithless, that an absent love; Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! And Delia's name and Dori's fill'd the grove.

Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay? Ye Mantuan nymphs, your sacred fuccour bring; Through rocks and caves the name of Delia sounds, Hylas and Ægon's rural lays I sing.

Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds. 50 Thou, whom the nine with Plautus' wit inspire, Ye powers, what pleasing frenzy foothes my mind! The art of Terence and Menander's fire;

Do lovers dream, or is my Dulia kind ? Whose sense inftru&sus, and whose humour charms, she comes, my Delia comes :—Now cease my lay, Whose judgment (ways us, and whose spirit and cease, ye gales

, to bear my fighs away! [mir'd; warms!

Next Ægon sung, while Windsor groves ad. Oh, kill'd in Nature ! see the hearts of swains,

Rehearse, ye muses, what yourselves inspir'd. Their artless pallions, and their tender pains.

Refound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain ! Now setting Phæbus shone serenely bright, Of perjur'd Doris, dying I complain; And fleecy clouds were streakd with purple light; Here where the mountains, lefsening as they risc, When tuncful Hylas, with melodious moan,

Lose the low vales, and steal into the kies; 60 Taught rocks to weep, and made the mountains While labouring oxen, spent with toil and heat, groan.

In their loose traces from the field retreat ;. Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!

While curling smokes from village tops are feen, To Delia's ear the tender notes convey,

And the fieet fhades glide o'er the duiky green. as some fad turtle his loft love deplores,

Resound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! And with deep murmors fillsthe foundingshores;20 Beneath yon' poplar oft we pais'd the day: Thus, far from Delia, to the winds 1 mourn,

Oft on the rind i carv'd her amorous vows, Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn.

While the with garlands hung the bending boughs: Go, geatle gales, and bear my fighs along !

The garlands fade, the vows are worn away; For her, the feather'd quires neglect their forig;

So dies her love, and so my hopes decay. For her, the limes their pleasing Thades deny i

Resound, ye hills, resound my mournfal frais ! For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.

Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain ; Ye flowers that droop, forsaken by the spring, Now golden fruits on loaded branches thine, Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to fing,

And grateful clutters swell with floods of wine ; Ye trees that fade when autumn heats remove,

Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove ; Say, is not abfence death to those who love? Just gods ! shall all things yield returns but love! Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!

Resound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! Curs'd be the fields that cause my Delia's ftay;

The thepherds cry,“ Thy flocks are left a prey.” Fade every blossom, wither ever tree,

Ah! what avails it me, the flocks to keep, Die every flower, and perith all, but the.

Who lost my heart while I preserv'd my sheep? 80 What have I said? where'er my Delia flies,

Pan came, and ask'd, what magic caus'd my Imart,
Let spring attend, and sudden flowers arife! Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart ?
Let opening rofes knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drop from every thorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my lighs along !
The birds shall cease to tuae their evening song, 40 Ver. 48. Originally thus in the MS.
The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, with him through Libya's burning plains I'll go,
And itreams to murmur, ere I cease to love. On Alpine mountains tread th' eternal (now;
Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty Swain, Yet feel no heat but what our loves impart,
Not balmy sleep to labourero faint with pain, And dread no coldness but in Thirfis' beart.




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