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Then might my voice thy lift'ning ears employ,
And I thofe kiffes he receives enjoy.

And yet my numbers please the rural throng, Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the fong: 50 The Nymphs, forfaking ev'ry cave and fpring, Their early fruit, and milk-white turtles bring! Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain, On you their gifts are all bestow'd again,

For you the fwains the fairest flow'rs defign,
And in one garland all their beauties join;
Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compriz'd in one.



See what delights in fylvan fcenes appear! Defcending Gods have found Elyfium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis ftray'd, And chafte Diana haunts the foreft fhade. Come, lovely nymph, and blefs the filent hours, When fwains from fheering feek their nightly bowers; When weary reapers quit the fultry field,



And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield.
This harmless grove no lurking vapour hides,
But in my breast the ferpent Love abides.
Here bees from bloffoms fip the rofy dew,
But your Alexis knows no fweets but you.
Oh deign to visit our forfaken feats,
The moffy fountains, and the green retreats!
Where'er you walk, cool gales fhall fan the glade,
Trees, where you fit, fhall croud into a fhade:
Where'er you tread, the blufhing flow'rs fhall rife, 75
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
Oh how I long with you to pafs my days,
Invoke the Muses, and refound your praise!


VER. 60. Defcending Gods have found Elyfium bere.]
Habitarunt Di quoque fylvas-Virg.

Et formofus oves ad flumina pavit Adonis. Idem,


Your praise the birds. fhall chant in ev'ry grove,
And winds fhall waft it to the pow'rs above.
But would you fing, and rival Orpheus' ftrain,
The wond'ring forests foon fhould dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call,
And headlong ftreams hang list'ning in their fall!
But fee, the shepherds fhun the noon-day heat, 85
The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat,
To closer fhades the panting flocks remove;
Ye gods! and is there no relief for Love?
But foon the fun with milder rays defcends
To the cool ocean, where his journey ends :
On me Love's fiercer flames for ever prey,
By night he fcorches, as he burns by day.

VER. 79, 80.


Your praise the tuneful birds to heav'n fhall bear, '
And lift'ning wolves grow milder as they hear.


So the verfes were originally written: But the author, young as he was, foon found the abfurdity which Spenfer himself overlook ed, of introducing wolves into England.

VER. 91. Me love inflames, nor will his fires allay.


VER. 80. And winds fhall waft, etc.]

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Partem aliquam, venti, divûm referatis ad aures! Virg. VER. 88. Ye gods, etc.]*

Me tamen urit amor, quis enim modus adfit amori ? Idem.

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ENEATH the fhade a spreading beach difplays,
Hylas and Egon fung their rural lays :

This mourn'da faithless, that an absent Love:
And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the Grove.

Ye Mantuan nymphs, your facred fuccour bring; 5
Hylas and Ægon's rural lays I fing.

Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit infpire, The art of Terence and Menander's fire;

Whose sense inftructs us, and whofe honour charms, Whofe judgment fways us, and whofe spirit warms! 10 Oh, skill'd in Nature! fee the hearts of Swains, Their artless paffions, and their tender pains.


This Paftoral confifts of two parts, like the eighth of Virgil; The Scene, a Hill; the Time at Sun-fet.

VER. 7. Thou, whom the Nine] Mr. Wycherley, a famous Author of Comedies; of which the most celebrated were the PlainDealer and Country-Wife. He was a writer of infinite fpirit, fatire, and wit: The only objection made to him was that he had too much. However he was followed in the fame way by Mr. Congreve; though with a little more correctness.

Now fetting Phoebus fhone ferenely bright,

And fleecy clouds were streak'd with purple light;
When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan,


Taught rocks to weep, and made the mountains groan.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!
To Delia's ear the tender notes convey.

As fome fad Turtle his loft love deplores,

And with deep murmurs fills the founding fhores; 20
Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I mourn,
Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along!
For her, the feather'd quires neglect their song :
For her, the limes their pleasing shades deny;
For her, the lilies hang their heads, and die.
Ye flow'rs that droop, forfaken by the spring,
Ye birds that, left by fummer, cease to fing,
Ye trees that fade when autumn heats remove,
Say, is not abfence death to those who love?

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!
Curs'd be the fields that caufe my Delia's ftay;
Fade ev'ry bloffom, wither ev'ry tree,



Die ev'ry flow'r, and perish all, but she.

What have I faid? where'er my Delia flies,


Let fpring attend, and fudden flow'rs arife!

Let op'ning rofes knotted oaks adorn,

And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along!
The birds fhall cease to tune their ev❜ning fong,

The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move,
And streams to murmur, ere I ceafe to love.

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Mala ferant quercus; narciffo floreat alnus,

Pinguia corticibus fudent electra myricæ. Virg. Ecl. viii.



Not bubbling fountains to the thirty fwain,
Not balmy fleep to lab'rers faint with pain,
Not show'rs to larks, or fun-fhine to the bee,
Are half fo charming as thy fight to me.



Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay ? Thro' rocks and caves the name of Delia founds, Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds. Ye pow'rs, what pleafing frenzy fooths my mind! Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind? She comes, my Delia comes !-Now cease my lay, And ceafe, ye gales, to bear my fighs away! Next Egon fung, while Windfor groves admir'd; 55 Rehearse, ye Mufes, what yourselves infpir'd. Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strain ! Of perjur❜d Doris, dying I complain : Here where the mountains, lefs'ning as they rise, Lose the low vales, and steal into the skies; While lab'ring oxen, spent with toil and heat, In their loose traces from the field retreat: While curling fmoaks from village-tops are feen, And the fleet shades glide o'er the dusky green, Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! Beneath yon' poplar oft we past the day : Oft' on the rind I carv'd her am'rous vows, While fhe with garlands hung the bending boughs:

VER. 43, &c.


Quale fopor feffis in gramine, quale per æftum

Dulcis aquæ faliente fitim reftinguere rivo. Virg. Ecl. v. VER, 52. An qui amant, ipfi fibi fomnia fingunt ? Idem,


VER. 48. Originally thus in the MS.

With him thro' Lybia's burning plains I'll go,
On Alpine mountains tread th' eternal fnow;
Yet feel no heat but what our loves impart,
And dread no coldness but in Thys' heart.



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