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STREPHON.

DAPHNIS.

STREPHON.

DAMON

DAMON.

so well!

Why sit we sad when Phosphor shines so clear,
And lavish Nature paints the purple year? In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love,
STREPHON.

At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove,
Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, But Delia always ; absent from her sight,
While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.
Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow;
Here western winds on breathing roses blow, Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May,
I'll stake yon lamb that near the fountain plays, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day;
And from the brink his daucing shade surveys. E'en spring displeases, wlien she shines not here:
DAPHNIS.

But, blest with her, 'tis spring throughout the And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, year. And swelling clusters bend the curling vines : Four figures rising from the work appear, Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears The various seasons of the rolling year ; A wondrous Tree that sacred Monarchs bears : And what is that, which binds the radiant sky, l Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, Where twelve fair signs in beauteous order lie? And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes.

DAPHNIS. Then sing by turns, by turns tlie Muses sing, Now, hawthorn blossom, now the daisies spring, The 'Thistle springs, to which the Lily yields :

Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields Now leavesthe trees,and How'rs adorn theground; And then a nobler prize I will resign Begin, the vales shall ev'ry note rebound.

For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine. STREPHON. Inspire une, Phebus, in iny.

Delia's praise, With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays !

Cease to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree A milk-white Bull shall at your altars stand,

The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee : That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand. Blest Swains, whose Nymplisinevery graceexcel;

Blest Nymphıs, whose Swains those graces sing DAPHNIS. O Lore! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes : No larnbs or sheep for victims I'll in part;

A soft retrcat from sudden vernal show'rs;

Thé turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart. Whileop'ning hlooms diffuse their sweets around. STREPKON.

For, see! the gath'ring flocks to shelter tend, Me zente Delia beckons from the plain ; And froin the Pleiads fruitful show'rs descend. Then hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But frigns a laugh, to see me search around,

PASTORAL II. SUMMER. And by that laugh the willing fair is found.

Addressed to Dr. Garth. The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green; A SHEPHERD'S boy (he seeks no better name) She runs, but hopes she does not run unscen; Led forth his flocks along the silver Thame, While a kind glance at her pursuer flies Where dancing sunbeams on the waters play'd, How much at variance are her feet and cyes ! . And verdant alders forud a quiv'ring shade. STREPHON.

Soft as he mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow, O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, The flocks around a dumb compassion show, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; The Naiads wept, in ev'ry wat'iy bow'r, Blest Thimes's shores the brightest beauties yield. And Jove consented in a silent show'r. Feed here, my lambs, l'll seek no disani ficid. Accept, O Garth, the Muse's early lays,

That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; 'DAPHNIS. Celestial Venus hauts Idalia's groves;

Hear what from Love unpractis'd hearts endure,

From Love, the sole disease thou cans't not cure. Diana Cynthus, Ceres Iłybla loves; If Windsor shades delight the matchless maid,

Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams,

Defence from Phabus, not from Cupid's beams, Cynthus and Hz bla vield to Windsor-shade.

To you I mourn, nor to the deaf I'sing;

The woods shall answer, and their ccho ring. All nature mourns, the skies relentin show'rs, The hills and rocks attend

my

doleful layHush'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping Why art thou prouder and more hard than they?

The bleating sheep with my complaints agree, If Delia smile, the flow'rs begin to spring, They parch'd with beat, and I inflam'd by thee. The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing. The sultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains,

While in ihy heart eternal winter reigns. All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and Where stráy, ye Muses, in what lawn or grove, The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air; [fair, While your Alexis pines in hopeless love? if Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides, And vanquish d nature seems to charm no more. Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?

As

DAPHNIS.

STRE PHON,

Row'rs;

DAPHNIS.

As in the crystal spring I view my face, But soon the sun with milder rays descends
Fresh rising blushes paint the wai’ry glass ; To the cool ocean, where his journey ends :
But since those graces please thy eres no more, On me Love's fiercer famçs for ever prey;
I shun the fountains which I sought before. By night he scorches, as he burns by day,
Once I was skii'd in ev'ry herb that grew,
And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew; PASTORAL III. AUTUMN.
Ah, wreiched shepherd, what avails thy art,
To cure thy lanıbs, but not to heal thy heart!

Addressed to Mr. Mycherley.
Let other swains attend the rural care, Beneath the shade a spreading beech displays
Feed fairer flocks, or richer ficeces shcar:

Ilylas and Ægon sung their rural lays : But nigh yon mountain let me tune my lavs, This mouru'd a faithless, that an absent Love; Embrace iny Love, and bind my brows with bays. And Delia's name and Doris fill’d the grore That fute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath Ye Mantuan nymphs, your sacred succour bring, Inspir'd when living, and bequeath d in death : Hylas and Ægon's rural race I sing. He said — Alexis, take this pipe, the same Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit igThat taught the groves my Rosalinda's name: The art of Terence, and Menander's fire ; [spire, But now the reces shall hang on ronder tree, Whose sense instructs us, and whose humor For ever silent, since despis'd by thee.

charins,

(warmis! Oh! were I made by stnie transforming pow'r Whose judgement sways us, and whose spirit The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r! Oh, skil'd-in nature! see the hearts of swains,

Then might my voice thy lisi’ning cars employ, Their artless passions, and their tender pains, And I those kisses he receives enjoy.

Now setting Phæbus shone serenely bright, Aud yet my numbers please the rural throng, And fleecy clouds were streak'd with purple light; Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song. When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan

The Nymphs, forsaking ev'ry.cave aid spring, Taught rocks to weep, 'and made the mountains Their early fruit and milkwhite turtles bring :

groan. Each am'rous nympho prefers her gifts in vain, Go gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! On

you their gists are all besłow'd again. To Delia's ear the tender notes convey. For you the swains the fairest flow'rs design, As some sad Turtle his lost love deplores, And in one garland all their beauties join: And with deep murmurs fills thesounding shores, Accept the wreath which you descrie alone, Thus, far from Delia, io the winds I mnoura, In whom all beauties are compris'il in one. Alike unheard, uupitied, and forlorn.

See what cleliklis in sylvan scenes appear! Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along! Descending gods have founu Elysium here. For her, the feather'd choirs neglect their song; In woods bright Venns with a donis stray'd, For hier, the limes their pleasing shades deny; And chaste Diana haunts the forest-shade. For her, the lilies liang their heads and die. Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours, Ye flow'rs that droop, forsaken by the spring; When swains from shcaring scek their nightly Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to sing: bow'rs;

Ye trees that fade when autumn heats remore, Wien weary reapers quit the sultry field, Say, is not absence death to fliose who love? Andcrown'd withicorn their thanksio Ceres yield. Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! This harmless grove no lurking viper hides, Curs'd be the fields that caus'd

my Delia's

stay; But in my breast the serpent love abides, Fade ev'ry blossom, wither ev'ry tree, Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew, Die er’ry flow'r, and perish all but she! Bnt your Alexis knows no sweets but

you.

What have I said? where'er my Delia flies, Oh dcign to visit our forsaken seats,

Let spring attend, and sudden How'rs arise; The mossy fountains, and the green retreats ! Let op'ning roses knotted oaks adorn, Where'er you walk, coolgales shall fan theglade, And liquid amber drop froin ev'ry thorn. Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade: Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along! Where'er you trcad, the blushing Pow'rs shall The birds shall cease to tune their ev'ning song, rise,

The winds to breathe, thc waring woods to more, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes. And streams to murmur ere I cease to love. Oh! how I long withi you to pass my days, Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty swain, Invoke the Muses, and resound your praise ! Not balmy sleep to lab'rers faint with pain, Your praise the birds shall chant in ev'ry drove, Not show'rs to larks, or sunshine to the bce, And winds shall waft it to the pow'rs above. Are half so charming as thy sight to me. But would you siog, and rival Orpheus' strain, Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! The wond'ring forests soon should dance again. Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay? The moving mountains hear the pow'rsul call, Thro' rocks and caves the name of Delia sounds: And headlong streams hang list'ning in their fall! Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds.

But see, the shepherds shun the noon-dayheat, Ye pow'rs, what pleasing phrenzy sooths my The lowing here to murm'ring brooks retreat ; Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind ? (mind! To closer shades the panting Rocks remove; She comes, my Delia comes !Now cease, ny lay; Ye gods! and is theii no relief for Love? And cease, ye gales, to bear my sighs away!

LYCIDAS.

THYRSIS.

Next Ægon sung, while Windsor groves ad-Thames heard the numbers, as he flow'd along, mird ;

And bade his willows learn the inoving song. Rehearse, ye Muses, what yourselves inspir'd.

Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain!
Of perjur'd Doris, dying I complain :

So
may

kind rains their vital moisture yield,
Here, where the mountains, less'ning as they rise, And swell the future harvest of the field.
Lose low the vales, and steal into the skies; Begin ; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
While lab'ring oxen spent with toil and heat, And said, Ye shepherds, sing around my grave!
In their loose traces from the field retrcat; Sing, while beside the shaderi tomb I mourn,
While curling smokes from village tops are scen, And with fresh bays her rural shrine adorn.
And the fleet shades glide o'er the dusky green.

Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Beneath yon poplar oft we pass'd the day :

Ye gentle Muses, leave your crystal spring, Oft on the rivd'I carv'd her am'rous vows,

Let Nymphs and Sylvans cypress garlands bring; While she withgarlandshungthe bending boughs. Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide, The garlands faile, the vows are worn away;

And break your bows as when Adonis died; So dies her love, and so my hopes decay.

And with your golde:1 darts, now useless grown, Resound, ye hills, resound my mournfulstrain! Inscribe a verse on this relenting stone : Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming, grain, Let nature change, let heaven and earth deplore! Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine, Fair Daphne's dead, and love is now no more!" And grateful clusters swell with floods of wine; 'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay, Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove ;

See gloomy clouds obscure the cheerful day! Just gods! shall-all things yield returns but love! Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear,

Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Their faded honors scatter'd on her bier.
The shepherds cry, “- Thy flocks are left a prey." See where on earth the flow'ry glories lie,
Ah! what avails it me the flocks to keep, With her they fourislı’d, and with her they dic.
Who lost my heart while I preserv'd my shecy? Ah, what avail the beauties nature wore?
Pan came, and ask'd what magic caus'd mysmart, Fair Daphne 's dead, and beauty is no more!
Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart? For her the flocks refuse their verdant food,
What eyes but hers, alas ! have pow'r to move? The thirsty heifers shun the gliding flood;
And is there magic but what dwells in love? The silver swans her hapless fate bemoan

Resound, ye hills, resound my mournfulstrains! In noles more sad than when they sing their own;
I'll dy from shepherds, flocks, and How'ry plains. In hollow caves sweet Echo silent lies,
Froni shepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Sileri, or only to her name replies;
Forsake mankinil, and all the world-but Love! Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore;
I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred, Now Daphine's dead, and pleasure is no more!
Wolves gave thee suck, and savage tigers fed : No grateful dews descend !roni erning skies,
Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn; Nor morning odors from the flow'rs arise ;
Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born! No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,

Resoand, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Ner fragrant herbs their native incense yield.
Farewell, ye woods! adieu, the light of day! The balmy Zephyrs, sileni since her dcath,
One leap from yonder cliff shall end iny prins : Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath;
No more, ye hills, no more resound my strains ! Th’industrious hees neglect their golden store;
Thus sung the shepherds till th'approach of night, Fair Daphne 's dead, apd sweetness is no more!
The skies yet blushing with departing light; Nomorethemountinglarks, whileDaphnesings,
When falling dews with spangles deck'd theglade, Shall, list ning in mid air, suspend their wings;
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade. No more the birols shall imitate her lays,

Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken froin the sprays; PASTORAL IV. WINTER.

No more the streams their in urmurs shall forbear, To the Memory of Mrs. Tempèst.

A sweeter music than their own to hear ;

But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore, Thyrsis, the music of that murm'ring spring Fair Daphne 's dead, and music is no more. is not so mournful as the strains you sing; Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, Nor rivers winding through the vales below And told in sighs to all the trembling trees ; So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow.

The trembling trees, in ev'ry plain and wool, Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces lie,

Her fate re-murmur to the silver flood; The nioon, serene in glory, mounts the sky, The silver flood, so lately calm, appears. While silent birds forget their tuneful lays, Swell'd with new passion,ando'erflows withtears. Oh sing of Daphne's fate and Daphne's praise ! The winds, and trees and floods,lier death deplore, THYRSIS.

Daphne, our grief, our glory now no inore! Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, Bui see! wbere Daphine wond'ring mounts on Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure lost. Above the clouds, above the starry ský! [high, Here shall I try the sweet Alexis' strain, Eternal beauties grace the shining scene, That call'd the list’ning Dryads to the plain!

Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green!

There,

LYCIDAS.

LYCIDAS.

There, while you rest in amaranthine bow'rs, SeePan with flocks, with fruits Poniona crown'd; Or from those meads select unfading How'rs, Here blushing Flora paints il' enamellid ground, Behold us kindly, who your name inplore, Here Ceres' gists in waving prospect stand, Daphne, our goddess, and our grief no inore ! And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's haud;

Rich Industry sits smiling on the plains, Howall things listen whilethy Muse complains! And peace and plenty tell, a Stuart reigns. Such silence waits on Philomela's strains

Not thus the land appear'd in ages pust, In some still ev'ning, when the whisp'ring breeze A dreary desart, and a gloomy waste; Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.

To savage beasts and savage laws a prey ; To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb shall bleed, And kings more furious and severe than they; If teeming ewes increase my fleecy breed. [give Who claim'd the skies, dispeopled air and foods, While plants their shade, or flow'rs their odors The lonely lords of emply wilds and woods : Thy naine, thy honor, and thy praise shall live!

Cities laid waste, they storm'd the dens and cares

(For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves), THYRSIS.

What could be free, when lawless beasts obey'd, But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews; And ev'n the elements a tyrant sway'd ? Arise, the pines a noxious chade diffuse ; In vain kind seasons swell’d the teeming grain, Sharp Boreas blows, and nature feels decay; Soft showr's distilld, and sunsgrew warm in vain; Time conquers all, and we must Time obey. The swain with tears his frustrate labor yields, Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams, and And famish'd dies amidst his ripen'd fields. groves;

What wonder then, a beast or subject slain Adieu, ye shepherds' rural lays and loves ; Were equal crimes in a despotic reign? Adieu, my flocks; farewell, ye sylvan crew; Both doom'd alike for sportive tyrants bled; Daphne, farewell; and all ile world adieu !

But while the subject starv'd, the beast was fed.

Proud Nimrod first the bloody chace began ; $ 5. Vindsor-Forest. Pope.

A mighty hunter, and his prey was nian:

Our haughty Nurman boasts that barb'rous name, To the Rt. Hon. George Lord Lansdown.

And makes his trembling slaves the royal game. The forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats, The fields are ravish'd from th’industrious swains. At once the Monarch's and the Muses' seats, From men their cities, and from gods their fanes Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan maids! The levellid towns with weeds lie cover'd o'er; Unlock your springs, and open

all
your

shades. The hollow winds thro' naked temples roar; Glanville commands; your aid, O Muses bring! Round broken columns clasping ivy twin'd; What Muse for Granville can refuse to sing ? O’er heaps of ruin stalk'd the stately hind; The

groves of Ederi, vanish'd now so long, The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires; Live in description, and look green in song: And savage howlings fill the sacred quires. These, were my breast inspir'd with equal flame, Aw'd by his nobles, by his coinmons curst, Like them in beauty, should be like in fame. Th' oppressor ruld tyrannic where he durst; Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Stretch'd b'er the poor and church his iron rod, Herc earth and water seem to strive again! And serv'd alike his vassals and his God. Not, chaos-like, together crush'd and bruis’d, Whom ev’n the Saxon spar'd, and bloody Dane, But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd: The wanton victims of his sport remain. Where order in variety we see,

But see, the man who spacious regions gare And where, tho' all things differ, all agree. A waste for beasts, hipiself denied a grave! Here waving groves a chequer'd scene display, Stretch'd on the lawn his second hope survey, And part admit, and part exclude the day; At once the chaser, and at once the prey: As some coy uymph her lover's warm address Lo! Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart, Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress. Bleeds in the forest like a wounded hart. There interspers'd in lawns and op'ning glades, Succeedling monarchs heard the subject's cries, Thin trees arise that shun each other's shades: Nor saw displeas'd the peaceful cottage rise. Here, in full light the russet plains extend ; Then gath'ring flockson unknown mountains fed; There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills ascend. O'er sandy wilds were yellow harvests spread; Ev’n the wild heath displays her purple dyes, The forests wonder'd at the unusual grain, And 'midst the desart fruitful fields arise, And secret transport touch'd the conscious swain. That, crown'd with tufted treesand fringing corn, Fair Liberty, Britannia's Goddess, rears Like verdant igles, the sable waste adorn. Her cheerful head, and leads the golden years. Let India boast her plants, nor enry we' Yo vig'rous swains! while youth fernievts your The weeping amber or the balıny tree, And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood, [blood, While by our oaks the precious loads are borne, Now range the hills, the gameful woods beset, And realms commanded which those trees adorn, Wind the shrill horn, or spread the waring net. Not proud Olympus yields a nobler sight, When milder autumn summer's heat succeeds, Thu'gods assembled grace his tow'ring height, And in the new-shom field the partridge feeds,

Than what more humble mountains offer here, Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds, 11 here, in their blessings, all those gods appear. Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd ground;

But

But when the tainted gules the game betray, Whose care, like hers, protects the sylvan reign,
Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey: The earth's fair light, and Empress of the main.
Secure they trust th' untuthful field besei, Here ton, 'tis sung of old Diana stray'd,
Till hov'ring o'er 'em sweeps the swelling net. And Cynthus' top forsook for Windsor-shade ;

Thus(if sınall things we maywith great compare) Here was she seen o'er airy wastes to rove,
When Albiou sends her cager sons to war, Seek the clear spring, or haunt the pathless grove;
Some thoughtless town, with ease and plentyblest, Here armid with silver bows, in early dawn,
Near, and inore near, the closing lines invest; Hor buskin'd Virgins trac'd the dewy lawn.
Sudden they seise th'amaz'd, delenceless prize, Above the rest a rural nymph was famnd,
And high in air Britannia's standard Hies. Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona nam'd
See! from the brake the whirring pleasant (Lódona's fate, in long oblivion cast,
springs,

TheMuse shall sing,and wliatshe sings shall last): And mounts exulting on trinmphant wings: Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,

known, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. But by the crescent, and the golden zone. Ah! what avail his glossy, varying dyes,

She scori'd the praise of beauty, and the carc; His purple crest and scarlet-circled eyes, A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair; The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, A pointed quiver on her shoulder sounds, His painted wings, and breast that Havnes with And with her dart the flying deer she wounds gold !

It chanc'd, as, eager of the chace, the maid Nor yet, when moist Arcturus clouds the sky, Beyond the forest's verdant limits stray'd, The woods and fields their pleasing toils deny. Pan saw and lov’d; and, burning with desire, To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair, Pursu'd her fight; her Hight increas'd his fire. And trace the mazes of the circling hare: Not half so swift the treinbling doves can fly, (Beasts, urg'd by us, their fellow beasts pursue, When the fierce cagle cleaves, the liquid sky; And learn of man each other to undo). [roves, Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, With slaught'ring guns th' unwearied fowler When thro' the clouds he drives the trunbling When frosts have whitep'd all the naked groves;

dores;
Where doves in flocks the leafless trees o’ershade, As from the god she flew with furious pace,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat’ry glade. Or as the god more furious urg'd the chace.
Helifts the tube, and levels with his eye; Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears;
Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: Now close behind his sounding steps she hears «
Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, And now his shadow reach'd her as she run,
The clanı'rons lapwings feel the leaden death; Ilis shadow lengthen’d by the setting sun ;
Oft, as the mounting lurks their throats prepare, And now his shorter breath, with sultry air,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air. Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.

In genial spring, beneath the quiv'ring shade, In vain on father Thames she calls for aid,
Where cooling vapors breathe along the mead, Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Faint, breathless, thus she pray'd, nor pray'd in
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand :

vain
With looks unmord he hopes the scaly breed, “ Ah Cynthia ! ah-tho'banish'd from thy train,
and eyes the dancing cork and bending reed, “Let me, O let me, to the shades repair,
Oar plenteous streams a various race supply: “ My native shades--there weep, and murmur
The bright-eyed perch, with fins of Tyrian dye; She lay, and melting as in tears she lay, (there."
The silver eel, in shining volumes rolld; In a soft silver streain-dissolv'd away.
The yellow carp, in scales bedropt with gold; The silver strean a virgin coldness kreps,
Swifi trouts, diversified with crimson stains; For ever murinurs, and for ever weeps;
Aud pikes, the tyrants of the wat’ry plains. Still bears the naine the hapless virgin bore,

Now Cancer glows with Pircebus' fiery car; And bathes the forest where she rang'd before.
The youth rushi cager to the sylvan war, In her chaste current oft the goddess laves,
Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround, And with celestial tears augments the wares.
Rouse the fleet hart, and cheer the openinghound. Oft in her glass the inusing shepherd spies
Th' inpaticnt courser pants in erery vein, Theheadlong mountains and the downward skics,
And pawing scenis to beat the distint plain : The wat’sy landskip of the pendent woods,
Hills

, vales, and foods, appcar alrcady cross'd, And absent trees that tremble in the floods ;
And ere he starts a thousand steps are lost. In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
See the bold youth strain up the threat'ning strep, And floating forests paint the waves with grecký
Rush thro' the thickets, down the valley sweep, Thru' the fair scene roll slow the ling'ringstreatus,
Mang o'er their coursers' heads with eager speed, Then foaming pour along, and rush into she
And earth rolls back beneath the flying steed.

Thames. Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain,

Thou, too, great father of the British flooda? Th' immortal huntress, and her virgin train ; With joyful pride survey’st the lofty woods ; Nor envy, Windsor! since thy shades have seen Where tow'ring oaks their growing honors rear, As bright a Goddess, and as chastea Queen: And future natives on thy shores appear:

Not

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