His inward woe. Now like a wearied stag, That stands at bay, the hern provokes their rage; Covers his fatal beak, and cautious hides The falconer in despair, his favourite bird Dead at his feet, as of his dearest friend He weeps her fate; he meditates revenge, Swift as an arrow shooting to their aid; Then, muttering inward curses, breaks his wings, And fixes in the ground his hated beak; Sees with malignant joy the victors proud Smear'd with his blood, and on his marrow feast. THE MESSIAH. BY ALEXANDER POPE. [ALEXANDER POPE, the son of a linendraper, was born in Lombard Street, on May 22, 1688. His father, who was a Roman Catholic, amassed a considerable fortune, and purchased an estate in Binfield, in Windsor Forest. Alexander received the first rudiments of his education from the family priest; afterwards he was sent to a Catholic seminary at Twyford, near Winchester, where he lampooned his teacher for this he was severely punished, and taken home by his parents. He attended no school after his twelfth year, and may therefore be said to have educated himself. Pope was a born poet; he 'lisped in numbers" so early, that he could not recollect when he did not write poetry. His style was formed upon that of Dryden; and, like his prototype, too much of his life was spent in literary squabbles. When sixteen years of age he wrote his "Pastorals," which at once brought him into a close acquaintance with the most eminent men of his time. Other works followed in quick succession, the principal of which were his "Odes," Windsor Forest," Essay on Man," "Dunciad," "Rape of the Lock," "The Messiah," &c. His magnum opus was his translation of Homer; by his Iliad" he realized above 5,000/., part of which he laid out in the purchase of a house at Twickenham, to which he removed in 1715, and where he died on the 30th of May, 1744.] YE Nymphs of Solyma! begin the song: Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies: Th' Ethereal Spirit o'er its leaves shall move, And on its top descends the mystic Dove. And in soft silence shed the kindly show'r! The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid, Returning Justice lift aloft her scale; Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, |