Fame, that her high worth to raise,
Seem'd erft fo lavish and profuse,
We may justly now accuse Of detraction from her praise; Less than half we find expreft, Envy bid conceal the rest.
Mark what radiant state she spreads, In circle round her shining throne, Shooting her beams like filver threads: This, this is fhe alone,
Sitting like a Goddess bright, In the center of her light.
Might fhe the wife Latona be, Or the towered Cybele,
Mother of a hundred Gods;
Juno dares not give her odds ;
Who had thought this clime had held
As they come forward, the Genius of the wood appears, and, turning toward them, speaks.
STAY, gentle Swains, for though in this difguife,
I see bright honor sparkle through your eyes ;
Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung Of that renowned flood, fo often fung, Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluce Stole under feas to meet his Arethufe; VOL. III.
And ye, the breathing rofes of the wood, Fair filver-bufkin'd Nymphs as great and good, I know this quest of yours, and free intent Was all in honor and devotion meant To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, Whom with low reverence I adore as mine, And with all helpful service will comply To further this night's glad folemnity; And lead you where ye may more near behold What shallow-fearching Fame hath left untold; Which I full oft amidst thefe fhades alone Have fat to wonder at, and gaze upon : For know by lot from Jove I am the Power Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower, To nurfe the faplings tall, and curl the grove With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. And all my plants I fave from nightly ill
Of noisome winds, and blasting vapors chill: And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, Or what the crafs dire-looking planet smites, Or hurtful worm with canker'd venom bites. When evening gray doth rife, I fetch my round Over the mount, and all this hallow'd ground, And early, ere the odorous breath of morn Awakes the lumbering leaves, or taffel'd horn Shakes the high thicket, hafte I all about, Number my ranks, and visit every sprout
With puissant words, and murmurs made to blefs ; 60 But elfe in deep of night, when drowsiness
Hath lock'd up mortal sense, then listen I To the celestial Syrens' harmony,
upon the nine infolded spheres,
And fing to thofe that hold the vital shears,
And turn the adamantin spindle round,
On which the fate of Gods and men is wound.
Such fweet compulfion doth in music lie,
To lull the daughters of Neceffity,
And keep unsteddy Nature to her law,
And the low world in meafur'd motion draw After the heavenly tune, which none can hear Of human mold with grofs unpurged ear; And yet fuch music worthieft were to blaze The peerless highth of her immortal praise, Whofe luftre leads us, and for her most fit,
If my inferior hand or voice could hit Inimitable founds; yet, as we go,
Whate'er the skill of leffer Gods can flow,
I will affay, her worth to celebrate,
And fo attend ye toward her glittering state; Where you may all that are of noble stem Approach and kiss her sacred vesture's hem.
O'ER the fmooth enamel'd green,
Where no print of step hath been, Follow me as I fing,
And touch the warbled string,
Under the fhady roof
Of branching elm star-proof.
NYMPHS and Shepherds, dance no more By fandy Ladon's lilied banks; On old Lycæus or Cyllene hoar
Trip no more in twilight ranks ; Though Erymanth your lofs deplore,
A better foil fhall give you thanks.
From the ftony Mænalus
Bring your flocks, and live with us; Here ye fhall have greater grace,
To ferve the Lady of this place.
Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, Yet Syrinx well might wait on her.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.
The EARL of BRIDGEWATER, then Prefident of WALES.
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