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But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie, And liberty unbars her prifon-door, And, like a rushing torrent, out they fly; And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er With boift'rous revel-rout and wild uproar ; A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Heav'n fhield their fhort-liv'd paftimes, I implore! For well may freedom, erst so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladfome than the fun..

Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade;
And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs,
For, when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid;
For never may ye tafte more careless hours
In nightly caftles, or in ladies bow'rs.
O vain to feek delight in earthly thing!

But moft in courts, where proud ambition tow'rs! Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.

See in each sprite fome various bent appear!
These rudely carol moft incondite lay;
Those fauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the ftranger paffing on his way;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

Some to the standing lake their courses bend,
With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play;
Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,

In paftry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend.

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Here, as each feason yields a diff'rent flore, Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been; Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er, Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen ; And goofe-b'rie clad in liv'ry red or green; And here, of lovely dye, the cath'rine pear, Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween: O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there, Left, fimit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd, Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round, With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide; And must be bought, though penury betide. The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown, And here, each feafon, do those cakes abide, Whose honour'd names th' inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes known.

Admir'd Salopia! that, with venial pride, Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambiant wave, Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd, Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings brave: Ah! midft the reft, may flow'rs adorn his grave, Whofe art did firft thefe dulcet cates difplay! A motive fair to learning's imps he gave, Who chearless o'er her darkling region ftray; Tilbreafon's morn arife and light them on their way.

COOPER's

COOPER'S HILL.

This poem, by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in defcription, yet deferves the higheft applaufe, as it far furpaffes all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very mafterly.

S

URE there are poets which did never dream Upon Parnaffus, nor did taste the stream Of Helicon; we, therefore, may fuppofe

Those made not poets, but the poets those.

And, as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So, where the muses and their train resort,
Parnaffus ftands; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnaffus art to me.
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy aufpicious height)
Through untrac'd ways and airy paths I fly,
More boundlefs in my fancy than my eye;
My eye, which, fwift as thought, contracts the space
That lies between, and firft falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, so vaft, fo high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth, or fky,
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Afpiring mountain, or defcending cloud;

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Paul's, the late theme of fuch a mufe, whofe flight
Has bravely reach'd and foar'd above thy height:
Now fhalt thou ftand, tho' sword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal, more fierce than they, thy fall confpire;
Secure, whilft thee the best of poets fings,
Preferv'd from ruin by the best of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies,

And, like a mist, beneath a hill doth rife;
Whose state and wealth, the business and the crowd,
Seems, at this distance, but a darker cloud:
And is, to him who rightly things esteems,
No other in effect than what it seems;

Where, with like hafte, tho' fev'ral ways they run,
Some to undo, and fome to be undone;
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the other's ruin, and increase;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be lost again.
Oh happiness of fweet retir'd content!
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itself present
With fuch an easy and unforc'd ascent,
That no ftupendious precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes;
But fuch a rife, as doth at once invite
A pleasure, and a rev'rence from the fight.

• Mr. Waller.

Thy

Thy mighty mafter's emblem, in whofe face
Sate meeknefs, heighten'd with majestic grace;
Such feems thy gentle height, made only proud
To be the bafis of that pompous load,

Than which, a nobler weight no mountain bears,
But Atlas only, which fupports the spheres.
When nature's hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wifer power than Chance ;
Mark'd out for fuch an ufe, as if 'twere meant
T' invite the builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when, what we chufe,
Folly or blindnefs only cou'd refufe.

A crown of fuch majestic tow'rs does grace
The gods great mother, when her heav'nly race
Do homage to her; yet she cannot boast,
Among that num'rous and celestial host,
More heroes than can Windfor; nor doth Fame's
Immortal book record more noble names.
Not to look back fo far, to whom this ille
Owes the first glory of fo brave a pile,
Whether to Cæfar, Albanact, or Brute,
The British Arthur, or the Danish Knute,
(Tho' this, of old, no less contest did move,
Than when, for Homer's birth, fev'n cities ftrove)
(Like him in birth, thou should't be like in fame,
As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame)
But whofoe'er it was, nature defign'd

First a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount those sev'ral kings, to whom
It gave a cradle, or to whom a tomb,

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