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See ! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy ; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Ah! what avail his glossy, varying dyes, 115
His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes,
The vivid green his shining plumes unfold,
His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold ?

Nor yet, when moist Arcturus clouds the sky,
The woods and fields their plealing toils deny.
To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair,
And trace the mazes of the circling hare:
(Beasts, urg'd by us, their fellow-beasts pursue,
And learn of man each other to undo.)
With Naught’ring guns th' unweary'd fowler roves,
When frosts have whiten'd all the naked groves, 126
Where doves in flocks the leafiefs trees o'ershade,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'ry glade.
He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye ;
Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: 130
Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath,
The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death :
Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

In genial spring, beneath the quiv’ring shade, 135
Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead,
The patient fisher takes his filent stand
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand :
With looks unmov’d, he hopes the scaly breed,
And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed. 140
Our plenteous streams a various race fupply;
The bright-ey'd perch, with fins of Tyrian dye ;
The filver eel, in shining volumes rollid;

The yellow carp, in scales beciropp'd with gold;
Swift trouts, diversify'd with crimson stains ; 145
And pikes, the tyrants of the wat’ry plains.

Now Cancer glows with Phobus' fiery car,
The youth ruth eager to the fylvan war,
Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround,
Rouse the fleet hart, and cheer the op'ning hound. 156

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Th' impatient courier pants in ev'ry vein,
And pawing, seems to beat the dittant plain :
Hilis, vales, and floods appear already crossd,
And ere he starts a thousand steps are loft.
See the bold youth strain up the threat ning steer, 155
Ruth through the thickets, down the valiies tweep,
Hang o'er the coursers heads with eager speed,
And earth rolls back beneath the Aying iteed.
Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain,
Th’immortal huntress, and her virgin train : 160
Nor envy, Windfor! since thy shades have seen
As bright a goddess, and as chatte a queen ;
Whose care,

like her's, protects the sylvan reign, The earth's far light, and empress of the main.

Here too, 'tis tung, of old, Diana stray'd,
And Cynthus' top forfook for Windsor shade;
Here was she seen o'er airy wastes to love,
Seek the clear spring, or haunt the pathless grove ;
Here arm'd with silver bows, in early dawn,
Her buskin’d virgins trac’d the dewy lawn.

17• Above the rest a rural nymph was fam’d, Thy offspring, Thames ! the fair Lodona nam'd; (Lodona's fate, in long oblivion caltura The Mufe shall sing, and what she sings ihall last.) Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be known, But by the crescent and the golden zone.

176 She scorn d the praise of Beauty, and the care ; A belt her waiti, a fillet binds her hair; A painted quiver on her houlder sounds, And with her dart the flying deer she wounds. 180 It chanc'd, as eager of the citace, the maid Beyond the Forest's verdant limits ftray'd : Pan faw and lov’d, and, burning with desire, Pursu'd her flight; her flight increas'd his fire. Not half so fwift the trembling doves can ily 185 When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid íky: Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, When thro' the clouds he drives the treinbling doves, As from the god the flew with furious pace, Qr as the god, more furious, urg'd the chace. 190

Now

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Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears ;
Now close behind, his founding steps the hears ;
And now his shadow reach'd her as she run,
His Madow lengtheni'd by the setting fun;
And now his shorter breath, with sultry air,

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Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on facher Thames the cails for aid,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathless, thus she pray'd, nor pray'd in vain ;
« Ah, Cynthia ! ah---tho’ banish'd froin thy train,
“ Let nie, o let me, to the thades repair,
“ My nạtive shades---there weep, and murmur there."
She said, and melting as in tears she lay,
In a soft silver stream diffoly'd away.
The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps, 205
For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps :
Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore,
And bathes the forest where the rang'd before.
In her chalte current oft the goddess laves,
And with celestial tears augments the waves. 210
Oft in her glass the inuling ihepherd spies
The headlong mountains and the downward skies;
The wat’ry landscape of the pendant woods,
And absent trees that tremble in the floods ;
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And ficating forests paint the waves with green.
Thro’the fair scene roll flow the ling’ring Itreams,
Then foaming pour along, and run into the Teames,

Thou, too, great father of the British Hoods !
With joyful prive turvey'st our lufty woods;
Where tow’ring caks their growing honours icar,
And future navies on thy shores appear.
Not Neptune's felt from all his itreams receives
A wealthier tribute than to thine he gives.
No seas lo rich, 15 gay no banks appear,
No lake fo gentle, and no spring to clear.
Nor Po fo iweils the fabling poets' lays,
While led along the skies his current itrays,
As thine, which visits Windsor's fam’d abodes,
To grace the mantion of our earthly gods ;

Nor

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Nor all his stars above a luftre show
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below;
Where Jove, fubdu'd by mortal passions still,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.

Happy the man whom this bright court approves,
His lov'reign favours, and his country loves :
Happy next him, who to thele Hades retires,
Whom nature charms, and whom the Mule inspires :
Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet pieale,
Successive study, exercile, and cafe.

240 He gathers health from herbs the forest yields, And of their fragrant phyfic poils the fields : With chemic art axalts the mın'ral pow'rs, And draws the aromatic fouls of flow'rs : Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high;

245 O’er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye; Of ancient writ unlocks the learned store, Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'er : Or wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood, Attends the duties of the wile and good, 259 T'observe a mean, be to himself a friend, To follow Nature, and regard his end; Or looks on Heav'n with more than mortal eyes, Bids his free toul expatiate in the skies, Amid her kindred stars familiar roam,

255 Survey the region, and confels her home! Such was the lite great Scipio once admir'd. Thus Atticus, and Trumball thus retir'd.

Ye facred Nine ! that all my soul poffels, Whofe raptures

fire me, and whole visions bless, 260 Bear me, oh bear me to sequcfter'd Icenes, The bowory mazes, and firrounding greens ; To Thames's bauks, which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Mules port on Coopír's Hill. (On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths shall grow, While laits the mountain, or while Thames shall flow.) I seem through confecrated walks to rove, I hear loft mufic die along the grove : Led by the found, I roam from thade to thade, By godlike poets venerable made :

Here

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Here his first lays majestic Denham ling;
There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tonguie,
O early lost! what tears the river shed,
When the sad pomp along his banks was led ?
His drooping fwans on ev'ry note expire,
And on his willows hung each mule's lyre.

Since Fate relentless stopp'd their heav'nly voice,
No inore the forests ring, or groves rejoice :
Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley strung
His living harp, and lofty Denham sung ? 280
But hark! the groves rejoice, the Forest rings!
Are these reviv'd ? or is it Granville sings?
'Tis yours, my Lord, to bleis our soft retreats,
And call the Muses to their ancient seats ;
To paint anew the flow'ry sylvan scenes,

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To crown the forests with immortal greens :
Make Windsor-hills in lofty numbers rile,
And lift her turrets nearer to the skies;
To fing those honours you deserve to wear,
And add new lustre to her silver star,

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Here noble Surrey felt the sacred rage,
Surrey, the Granville of a former age :
Matchless his pen, victorious was his lance,
Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance :
In the saine shades the Cupids tun'd his lyre, 295
To the same notes, of love, and fost desire :
Fair Geraldine, bright obje&t of his vow,
Then fill'd the groves, as heav'nly Mira now.

Oh wouldit thou sing what heroes Windsor bore,
What kings first breath'd upon her winding shore,
Or raise old warriors, whose ador'd remains 301
In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains !
With Edward's acts adorn the shining page,
Stretch his lorg triumphs down througn ev'ry age,
Draw monarchs chain'd, and Crefli's glorious field,
The lilies blazing on the regal Inield:
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,
Still in thy (ong hould vanquih'd France appear',
And bleed for ever under Britain's iptar.

310 Let

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