« ПредишнаНапред »
Winter:] This was the Poet's favourite Pastoral.'
Mrs. Tempeft.) This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkhire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh, who, having celebrated her in a Paitoral Elegy, desired his friend to do the same, as appears from one of his Letters, dated Sept. 9, 1706. “ Your last Eclogue
“ being IMITATIONS. VER. 1. Thyrfis, the music, etc.) *adó
Th, etc. Theocr. Id. i.
Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces lie, S
TH YRS I S.
L Y CI D A S.
TH YRS I S.
" being on the fame subject with mine on Mrs. Tem
pest's death, I should take it very kindly in you to give “ it a little turn as if it were to the memory of the same “ lady.” Her death having happened on the night of the great storm in 1703, gave a propriety to this eclogue, which in its general turn alludes to it. The scene of the Pastoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight. P.
'IMITA TIONS. Ver. 13. Thames beard, etc.)
Audiit Eurotas, juffitque edifcere lauros.' Virg. P.
Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide, And break your bows, as when 'Adonis dy’d; And with your golden darts; now useless grown, Inscribe a verse on this relenting itone: hd vi 26 “ Let nature change, let heav'n and earth deplore, « Fair Daphne's dead, and love is now no more !
'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay, See gloomy clouds obscure the chearful day ! 30 Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear, Their faded honours scatter'd on her bier, See, where on earth the flow'ry glories lie, With her they flourishid, and with her they die. Ah what avail the beauties nature wore ? Fair Daphne's dead, and beauty is no more!
For her the flocks refuse their verdant food, The thirsty heifers fhun the gliding flood. The silver swans her hapless fate bemoan, In notes more fad than when they sing their own;, In hollow caves sweet Echo silent lies,
41 Silent, or only to her name replies';
7 Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore, Now Daphne's dead, and pleasure is no more!
No grateful de ws descend from ev'ning skies, Nor morning odours from the flow'rs arise
$751, 911d Is
ARIATIONS. Ver. 29. Originally thus in the MS.
'Tis done, and nature's chang'a fince you ate gone; Behold the clouds have put their Mourning on.
Inducite fontibus umbras --05:0.5 V
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
50 Th' industrious bees neglect their golden store ! Fair Daphne's dead, and sweetness is no more.!
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze,
::65 Swelld with new paffion, and o'erflows with tears; The winds and trees and floods her death deplore, Daphne, our grief ! our glory now no more!
But fee! where Daphne wond'ring mounts on high Above the clouds, above the starry sky ! 70 Eternal beauties grace the shining scene, Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green! There while you reft in Amaranthine bow'rs, Or from those meads select unfading flow'rs,
Sub pedibusque videt nubes et lydera Dupbris. Virg. P.
Bebold us kindly, who your name implore, 75 Daphne, our Goddess, and our grief no more!
TH Y RS I S.
While Vapours rise, and driving snows descend,
Juniperi gravis umbra. Virg. P.
Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori,