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Lo, Love himfelf, with heavy woes oppreft! See how his forrows fwell his tender breaft;
His bow he breaks, and wide his arrows flings,
And folds his little arms, and hangs his drooping wings;
And all with tears bedews his beauteous face,
All nature mourns; the floods and rocks deplore,
And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.
No more! For thofe once foft and circling arms
Ah! where is all that love and fondness fied?
I mourn Paftora dead; let Albion mourn, And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn. "But fee, Menalcas, where a fudden light, "With wonder ftops my fong, and strikes my fight! "And where Paftora lies, it spreads around, "Shewing all radiant bright the facred ground. "While from her tomb, behold, a flame afcends "Of whiteft fire, whofe flight to heaven extends! "On flaking wings it mounts, and quick as fight "Cuts through the yielding air with rays of light; "Till the blue firmament at last it gains,
"And, fixing there, a glorious star remains :"
Faireft it shines of all that light the skies,
TO THE KING,
ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR.
"Præfenti tibi maturos largimur honores : "Nil oriturum aliàs, nil ortum tale fatentes." Hor. ad Auguftum.
arms and war my Mufe afpires to fing, And strike the lyre upon an untry'd string : New fire informs my foul, unfelt before; And, on new wings, to heights unknowm I foar, O power unfeen! by whofe refiftless force Compell'd, I take this flight, direct my course : For Fancy wild and pathlefs ways will chufe, Which Judgment rarely, or with pain, pursues: Say, facred nymph, whence this great change proceeds. Why fcorns the lowly fwain his oaten reeds, Daring aloud to ftrike the founding lyre,
And fing heroic deeds ;
Neglecting flames of love, for martial fire?
William, alone, my feeble voice can raise;
The hovering winds on downy wings fhall wait around,
For by his name my verfe fhall be preferr'd.'
High as the spheres, I will his triumph fing;
High as the head of Fame; Fame, whose exalted fize
But lo, a change aftonishing my eyes!
And all around, behold new objects rise !
Can ftrong ideas ftrike fo deep the fenfe!
O facred poefy! O boundlefs power!
What wonders doft thou trace, what hidden worlds explore !
Through feas, earth, air, and the wide-circling fky, What is not fought and feen by thy all-piercing eye!
'Twas now, when flowery lawns the prospect made, And flowing brooks beneath a forest's shade;
A lowing heifer, lovelieft of the herd,
Stood feeding by; while two fierce bulls prepar'd
And now, for woods, and fields, and fpringing flowers; Behold a town arise, bulwark'd with walls, and lofty
Two rival armies all the plain o'erfpread,
Now, thirst of conqueft, and immortal fame,
Founded by Fate, and wrought by Nature's hands. A wondrous tafk it is th' Afcent to gain,
Through craggy cliffs, that strike the fight with pain, And nod impending terrors o'er the plain.
To this, what dangers men can add, by force or fkill, (And great is human force and wit in ill)