shine through the poem, which so visibly appears in priety of style; the first of which perhaps was the all the works of antiquity; and it ought to preserve fault of his age, and the last of his language. some relish of the old way of writing: the connection Among the moderns, their success has been greatshould be loose, the narrations and descriptions est who have most endeavoured to make these short, and the periods concise : yet it is not sufficient ancients their pattern. The most considerable genius that the sentences only be brief; the whole eclogue appears in the famous Tasso and our Spenser. Tasso should be so too: for we cannot suppose poetry in in his Aminta has as far excelled all the pastoral those days to have been the business of inen, but writers, as in his Gierusalemme he has outdone the their recreation at vacant hours. epic poets of his country. But as his piece seems to But with respect to the present age, nothing more have been the original of a new sort of poem, the conduces to make these composures natural, than pastoral comedy, in Italy, it cannot so well be conwhen some knowledge in rural affairs is discovered. sidered as a copy of the ancients. Spenser's CalenThis may be made to appear rather done by chance dar, in Mr. Dryden's opinion, is the most complete than on design, and sometimes is best shown by in- work of this kind which any nation has produced ference; lest by too much study to seem natural, we ever since the time of Virgil; not but that he may be destroy that easy simplicity from whence arises the thought imperfect in some few points. His eclogues delight for what is inviting in this sort of poetry are somewhat too long if we compare them with the proceeds not so much from the idea of that business, ancients. He is sometimes too allegorical, and treats as the tranquillity of a country life. of matters of religion in a pastoral style, as the We must therefore use some illusion to render a Mantuan had done before him. He has employed pastoral delightful; and this consists in exposing the the lyric measure, which is contrary to the practice best side only of a shepherd's life, and in concealing of the old poets. His stanza is not still the same. its miseries. Nor is it enough to introduce shepherds nor always well chosen. This last may be the rea discoursing together in a natural way; but a regard son his expression is sometimes not concise enough; must be had to the subject, that it contain some par- for the tetrastic has obliged him to extend his sense to ticular beauty in itself, and that it be different in every the length of four lines, which would have been eclogue. Besides, in each of them a designed scene more closely confined in the couplet. or prospect is to be presented to our view, which | In the manners, thoughts, and characters, he comes should likewise have its variety. This variety is ob- near to Theocritus himself; though, notwithstanding tained in a great degree by frequent comparisons, all the care he has taken, he is certainly inferior in drawn from the most agreeable objects of the country; his dialect; for the Doric had its beauty and proby interrogations to things inanimate; by beautiful priety in the time of Theocritus; it was used in part digressions, but those short; sometimes by insisting of Greece, and frequent in the mouths of many of a little on circumstances; and, lastly, by elegant turns the greatest persons: whereas the old English and on the words, which render the numbers extremely country phrases of Spenser were either entirely obsosweet and pleasing. As for the numbers themselves, lete, or spoken only by people of the lowest conthough they are properly of the heroic measure, they dition. As there is a difference betwixt simplicity should be the smoothest, the most easy and flowing and rusticity, so the expression of simple thoughts imaginable. should be plain but not clownish. The addition he It is by rules like these that we ought to judge of has made of a calendar to his eclogues, is very pastoral. And since the instructions given for any beautiful; since by this, besides the general moral of art are to be delivered as that art is in perfection, they innocence and simplicity, which is common to other must of necessity be derived from those in whom it is authors of pastoral, he has one peculiar to himself: acknowledged so to be. It is therefore from the he compares human life to the several seasons, and practice of Theocritus and Virgil (the only undisputed at once exposes to his readers a view of the great and authors of pastoral,) that the critics have drawn the little worlds, in their various changes and aspects. foregoing notions concerning it. Yet the scrupulous division of his pastorals into Theocritus excels all others in nature and sim-months, has obliged him either to repeat the same plicity. The subjects of his Idyllia are purely pas- description in other words, for three months together; toral; but he is not so exact in his persons, having or, when it was exhausted before, entirely to omit it: introduced reapers and fishermen as well as shep- whence it comes to pass that some of his eclogues herds. He is apt to be too long in his descriptions, (as the sixth, eighth, and tenth, for example) have of which that of the cup in the first pastoral is a re-nothing but their titles to distinguish them. The reason markable instance. In the manners he seems a little is evident, because the year has not that variety in it defective, for his swains are sometimes abusive and to furnish every month with a particular description, immodest, and perhaps too much inclining to rus- as it may every season. ticity; for instance, in his fourth and fifth Idyllia. But Of the following eclogues I shall only say, that it is enough that all others learned their excellence these four comprehend all the subjects which the from him, and that his dialect alone has a secret critics upon Theocritus and Virgil will allow to be charm in it, which no other could ever attain. fit for pastoral: that they have as much variety of Virgil, who copies Theocritus, refines upon his description, in respect of the several seasons, as original; and in all points, where judgment is princi- Spenser's: that, in order to add to this variety, the pally concerned, he is much superior to his master. several times of the day are observed, the rural emThough some of his subjects are not pastoral in them- ployments in each season or time of day, and the selves, but only seem to be such, they have a wonder-rural scenes or places proper to such employments; ful variety in them, which the Greek was a stranger not without some regard to the several ages of man, to. He exceeds him in regularity and brevity, and and the different passions proper to each age. falls short of him in nothing but simplicity and pro- But after all, they have any merit, it is to be at tributed to some good old authors, whose works as I had leisure to study, so, I hope, I have not wanted care to imitate. PASTORALS. SPRING. THE FIRST PASTORAL; OR, DAMON. To Sir William Trumbal. FIRST in these fields I try the sylvan strains, You that, too wise for pride, too good for power, Soon as the flocks shook off the nightly dews, Hear how the birds, on every bloomy spray, STREPHON. Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow, Here western winds on breathing roses blow. I'll stake yon lamb, that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing shade surveys. DAPHNIS. And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, And swelling clusters bend the curling vines: Four figures rising from the work appear, The various seasons of the rolling year; And what is that which binds the radiant sky, Where twelve fair signs in beauteous order lie? DAMON. Then sing by turns, by turns the muses sing: Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring, Now leaves the trees, and flowers adorn the ground: Begin, the vales shall every note resound. STREPHON. Inspire me, Phœbus, in my Delia's praise, With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays! A milk-white bull shall at your altar stand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand. DAPHNIS. O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes; No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart. STREPHON. Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found. DAPHNIS. The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green; She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen: While a kind glance at her pursuer flies, How much at variance are her feet and eyes! STREPHON. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po ; Blest Thames's shores the brightest beauties yield. Feed here, my lambs, I'll seek no distant field. DAPHNIS. Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves; If Windsor shades delight the matchless maid, All Nature mourns, the skies relent in showers, DAPHNIS. All Nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair, In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love, Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears, Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields DAMON. Cease to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree, The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee. Blest swains, whose nymphs in every grace excel; Blest nymphs, whose swains those graces sing so well' Now rise and haste to yonder woodbine bowers, A soft retreat from sudden vernal showers: The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd, While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around. For see! the gathering flocks to shelter tend, And from the Pleiads fruitful showers descend. SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL: OR, ALEXIS. To Dr. Garth A SHEPHERD'S boy he seeks no better name) Led forth his flocks along the siver Thame, Where dancing sun-beams on the waters play'd, And verdant aiders form'd a quivering shade. Soft as he mourn d, the streams forgot to flow, The flocks around a dumb compassion show, The Naads wept in every watery bower, And Jose consented in a silent shower. Accept, O Garth, the muse's early lays, That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; Hear what from love unpractised hearts endure, From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure. Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams, Defence from Phorus, not from Cupid's beams, To you I mourn; nor to the deaf I sing; The woods shall answer, and their echo ring. The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay: Why art thou prouder and more hard than they? The bleating sheep with my complaints agree, They parch'd with heat, and I inflam'd by thee. The sultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains, While in thy heart eternal winter reigns. Where stray ye, muses, in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pines in hopeless love? In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides, Or else where Cam his winding vales divides? As in the chrystal spring I view my face, Fresh rising blushes paint the watery glass; But since those graces please thine eyes no more, I shun the fountains which I sought before. Once I was skill'd in every herb that grew, And every plant that drinks the morning dew; Ah, wretched shepherd! what avails thy art, To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart! Let other swains attend the rural care, Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces shear: But nigh yon mountain let me tune my lays, Embrace my love, and bind my brows with bays. That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath Inspired when living, and bequeathed in death: He said: Alexis, take this pipe, the same That taught the groves my Rosalinda's name.' But now the reed shall hang on yonder tree, For ever silent, since despis'd by thee. O! were I made by some transforming power, The captive bird that sings within thy bower! Then might my voice thy listening ears employ, And I those kisses he receives enjoy. And yet my numbers please the rural throng, Rough satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song. The nymphs forsaking every cave and spring, Their early fruit and milk-white turtles bring; Each amorous nymph prefers her gifts in vain, On you their gifts are all bestow'd again: For you the swains the fairest flowers design, And in one garland all their beauties join; Accept the wreath which you deserve alone, In whom all beauties are comprised in one. See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! Descending gods have found Elysium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd, And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade. [Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours, When swans from shearing seek their nigirly bowers When weary reapers qun the sultry field, And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield. The mossy fountains, and the green retreats! But see, the shepherds shun the noon-day heat, AUTUMN. THE THIRD PASTORAL; OR, HYLAS AND EGON. To Mr. Wycherley. BENEATH the shade a spreading beech displays, Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit inspire, Now setting Phoebus shone serenely bright, Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along! Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along! Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! Resound, ye hils, resound my mournful strain! Of perjured Doris, dying I complain : Here where the mountains, lessening as they rise, Lose the low vales, and steal into the skies; While labouring oxen, spent with toi! and heat, In their loose traces from the field retreat; While curling smokes from village tops are seen, And the fleet shades glide o'er the dusky green. Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Reneath yon poplar oft we pass'd the day: Oft on the rind I carved her amorous vows, While she with garlands hung the bending boughs; The garlands fade, the vows are worn away: So dies my love, and so my hopes decay. Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain! Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain; Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine, And grateful clusters swell with floods of wine; Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove. Just gods! shall all things yield returns but love? Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay; The shepherds cry, Thy flocks are left a prey.' Ah! what avails it me the flocks to keep, Who lost my heart while I preserved my sheep? Pan came, and ask'd, what magic caused my smart, Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart? What eyes but hers, alas, have power to move? And is there magic but what dwells in love? Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strains! I'll fly from shepherds, flocks, and flowery plains. From shepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forsake mankind, and all the world but love; I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred; Wolves gave thee suck, and savage tigers fed: Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born. Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Farewell, ye woods; adieu, the light of day; One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains. No more, ye hills, no more resound my strains. Thus sang the shepherds till the approach of night,| The skies yet blushing with departed light, G When falling dews with spangles deck the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd every shade. WINTER. THE FOURTH PASTORAL; OR, DAPHNE To the Memory of Mrs. Tempest LYCIDAS. THYRSIS, the music of that murmuring spring Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, So may kind rains their vital moisture yield, Ye gentle muses, leave your chrystal spring, Let nymphs and sylvans cypress garlands bring: Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide, And break your bows as when Adonis died; And with your golden darts, now useless grown, Inscribe a verse on this relenting stone; Let Nature change, let heaven 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 cheerful day: Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear, Their faded honours scatter'd on her bier. See where, on earth, the flowery glories lie; With her they flourish'd, 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; No grateful dews descend from evening skies, No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings, Shall, listening in mid air, suspend their wings; No more the birds shall imitate her lays, Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays: Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies 10 But see! where Daphne wondering mounts on high, Peace o'er the world her olive wand, extend, Above the clouds, above the starry sky! How all things listen, while thy muse complains! Such silence waits on Philomela's strains, In some still evening, when the whispering breeze THYRSIS. But see! Orion sheds unwholesome dews; Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse; Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay, Time conquers all, and we must Time obey. Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams, and groves; Adieu, ye shepherd's rural lays and loves; Adieu, my flocks; farewell, ye sylvan crew: Daphne, farewell! and all the world, adieu! MESSIAH. A sacred Eclogue in Imitation of Virgil's Pollio. ADVERTISEMENT. In reading several passages of the prophet Isaiah, which foretell the coming of Christ, and the felicities attending it, I could not but observe a remarkable parity be tween many of the thoughts, and those in the Pollio of Virgil. This will not seem surprising when we reflect, that the celogue was taken from a Sibylline prophecy on the same subject. One may judge that Virgil did not copy it line for line; but selected such ideas as best agreed with the nature of pastoral poetry, and disposed them in that manner which served most to beautify his piece. I have endeavoured the same in this imitation of him, though without admitting any thing of my own; since it was written with this particular view, that the reader by comparing the several thoughts, might see how far the images and descriptions of the prophet are superior to those of the poet. But as I fear I have prejudiced them by my management, I shall subjoin the passages of Isaiah, and those of Virgil, under the same disadvantage of a literal translation. Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song: | 25 And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend. 20 IMITATIONS. 30 Ver. 8. A Virgin shall conceive-All crimes shal cease, &c.] Virg. Ecl. iv. ver. 6. Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna, Te duce, si qua maneant sceleris vestigia nostri, Now the virgin returns, now the kingdom of Satin returns, now a new progeny is sent down from high hea ven. By means of thee, whatever reliques of our crimes remain, shall be wiped away, and free the world from perpetual fears. He shall govern the earth in peace, with the virtues of his father.' Isaiah, ch. vii. ver. 14.-Behold a Virgin shall conceive and bear a Son. Chap. ix. ver 6, 7-Unto us a Child is born; unto us a Son is given; the Prince of Peace: of the increase of his government, and of his peace, there shall be no end: upon the throne of David, and upon husking, dom, to order and to establish it, with judgment and with justice, for ever and ever." Ver. 23. See, Nature hastes, &c.] Virg. Ecl. iv. ver. 18. At tibi prima, puer, nullo munuscula cultu, Errantes hederas passim cum baccare tellus Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acanthoIpsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores. produce her -rly offerings; winding ivy, mixed with 'For thee, O child, shall the earth, without being tille. baccar, and colocassia with smiling acanthus. Thy cra dle shall pour forth pleasing flowers about thee.' Isaiah, ch. xxxv. ver. 1.-The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad, and the desert shall rejoice Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir-tree, the pine-tro, and blossom as the rose. Ch. Ix. ver. 13 The glory of and the box together, to beautify the place of thy sauc tuary." Ver. 29. Hark! a glad voice, &c.] Virg. Ecl. iv. ver. 46 Aggredere ô magnos (aderit jam tempus) honores, Cara Deûm soboles, magnum Jovis incrementum! Ecl. v. ver. 62. Ipsi lætitia voces ad sidera jactant Intonsi mentes, ipsæ jam carmina rupes, Ipsa sonant arbusta, Deus, Deus ille, Menalca! 'O come and receive the mighty honours: the time draws nigh, O beloved offspring of the gods! O great in crease of Jove! The uncultivated mountains send shouts of joy to the stars; the very rocks sing in verse; the very shrubs cry out, A God, a God!' |