Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's fons
By his old fire, to his embraces runs;
Hafting to pay his tribute to the fea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.
Though with those streams he no refemblance hold,
Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold;
His genuine and lefs guilty wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his shore;
O'er which he kindly spreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th' enfuing fpring.
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like mothers which their infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous wave,'
Like profuse kings, resumes the wealth he gave.
No unexpected inundations fpoil
The mower's hopes, nor mock the plowman's toil:
But god-like his unweary'd bounty flows;
First loves to do, then loves the good he does."
Nor are his bleffings to his banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the fea or wind;
When he, to boast or to disperse his ftores
Full of the tributes of his grateful fhores,
Vifits the world, and in his flying towers
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours;
Finds wealth where 'tis, bestows it where it wants,
Cities in defarts, woods in cities plants.
So that to us no thing, no place is strange,
While his fair bofom is the world's exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull ;'
Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.
Heaven her Eridanus no more fhall boast,
Whose fame in thine, like leffer current, 's loft;
Thy nobler ftreams fhall vifit Jove's abodes,
To fhine among the * ftars, and bathe the gods.
Here nature, whether more intent to please
Us for herself, with strange varieties,
(For things of wonder give no lefs delight,
To the wife maker's, than beholder's fight.
Though these delights from several causes move;
For fo our children, thus our friends we love)
Wifely the knew, the harmony of things,
As well as that of founds, from difcord springs.
Such was the difcord, which did first disperse
Form, order, beauty, through the universe;
While drynefs moisture, coldness heat resists,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts.
While the steep horrid roughness of the wood
Strives with the gentle calmness of the flood.
Such huge extremes when nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence delight.
The stream is fo tranfparent, pure, and clear,
That had the felf-enamour'd youth gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,
While he the bottom, not his face had feen.
But his proud head the airy mountain hides
Among the clouds; his fhoulders and his fides
A fhady mantle cloaths; his curled brows
Frown on the gentle stream, which calmly flows;
While winds and ftorms his lofty forehead beat :
The common fate of all that's high or great.
Low at his foot a fpacious plain is plac'd,
Between the mountain and the ftream embrac❜d:
Which fhade and fhelter from the hill derives,
While the kind river wealth and beauty gives;
And in the mixture of all these appears
Variety, which all the reft endears.
This fcene had fome bold Greek, or British bard
Beheld of old, what ftories had we heard
Of fairies, fatyrs, and the nymphs their dames,
Their feafts, their revels, and their amorous flames?
'Tis ftill the same, although their airy shape
All but a quick poetic fight escape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts,
And thither all the horned hoft reforts
To graze the ranker mead, that noble herd,
On whofe fublime and fhady fronts is rear'd
Nature's great mafter-piece; to fhew how foon
Great things are made, but fooner are undone,
Here have I seen the king, when great affairs
Gave leave to flacken and unbend his cares,
Attended to the chafe by all the flower
Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devour:
Pleasure with praise, and danger they would buy,
And with a foe that would not only fly.
The ftag now conscious of his fatal growth,
At once indulgent to his fear and floth,
To fome dark covert his retreat had made,
Where nor man's eye, nor heaven's fhould invade
His foft repofe; when th' unexpected found
Of dogs, and men, his wakeful ear does wound :
Rouz'd with the noife, he scarce believes his ear,
Willing to think th' illufions of his fear
Had given this false alarm, but ftreight his view
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true.
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet;
All inftruments, all arts of ruin met;
He calls to mind his ftrength, and then his fpeed,
His winged heels, and then his armed head;
With thefe t'avoid, with that his fate to meet :
But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet.
So faft he flies, that his reviewing eye
Has loft the chafers, and his ear the cry;
Exulting, till he finds their nobler sense
Their difproportion'd speed doth recompenfe;
Then curfes his confpiring feet, whose scent
Betrays that fafety which their swiftness lent.
Then tries his friends; among the bafer herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd,
His fafety feeks: the herd, unkindly wife,
Or chafes him from thence, or from him flies,
Like a declining statesman, left forlorn
To his friends' pity, and pursuers' scorn,
With fhame remembers, while himself was one
Of the fame herd, himself the fame had done.
Thence to the coverts and the conscious groves,
The scenes of his past triumphs, and his loves;
Sadly furveying where he rang'd alone.
Prince of the foil, and all the herd his own;
And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim
Combat to all, and bore away the dame;
And taught the woods to echo to the stream
His dreadful challenge and his clashing beam.
Yet faintly now declines the fatal strife,
So much his love was dearer than his life.}
Now every leaf, and every moving breath
Presents a foe, and every foe a death.
Weary'd, forfaken, and purfued, at last
All fafety in defpair of safety plac'd,
Courage he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear
All their affaults, fince 'tis in vain to fear.
And now too late he wishes for the fight
That strength he wasted in ignoble flight:
But when he fees the eager chace renew'd,
Himself by dogs, the dogs by men pursued :
He straight revokes his bold refolve, and more
Repents his courage, than his fear before;
Finds that uncertain ways unfafeft are,
And doubt a greater mischief than despair.
Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force,
Nor speed, nor art avail, he shapes his course;
Thinks not their rage fo defperate to essay
An element more merciless than they.
But fearless they pursue, nor can the flood
Quench their dire thirft; alas, they thirst for blood.
So towards a fhip the oar-finn'd gallies ply,
Which wanting fea to ride, or wind to fly,
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