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And now his fhorter breath, with fultry air,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathlefs, thus fhe pray'd, nor pray'd in vain; "Ah Cynthia! ah-tho' banish'd from thy train, 200 "Let me, O let me, to the fhades repair,
My native fhades-there weep, and murmur there." She faid, and melting as in tears the lay, In a soft silver stream diffolv'd away. The filver ftream her virgin coldness keeps, For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps ; Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore, And bathes the foreft where the rang'd before. In her chafte current oft the Goddess laves, And with celeftial tears augments the waves, Oft in her glafs the mufing fhepherd spies The headlong mountains and the downward fkies, The wat❜ry landskip of the pendant woods, And abfent trees that tremble in the floods; In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, And floating forests paint the waves with green, Thro' the fair scene roll flow the ling'ring ftreams, Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames, Thou, too, great father of the British floods! With joyful pride furvey'ft our lofty woods; Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours rear, And future navies on thy shores appear, Not Neptune's felf from all her ftreams receives A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
VER. 207. Still bears the name.] The River Lodden.
VER. 211. Oft in her glass, etc.] These fix lines were added after the firft writing of this poem.
No feas fo rich, fo gay no banks appear,
Like the bright Beauties on thy banks below;
Happy the man whom this bright Court approves, His Sov'reign favours, and his Country loves: 236 Happy next him, who to these shades retires, Whom Nature charms, and whom the Muse inspires; Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please,. Succeffive ftudy, exercife, and ease.
He gathers health from herbs the foreft yields,
Cf ancient writ unlocks the learned ftore,
VER. 233. It flood thus in the MS.
And force great Jove, if Jove's a lover ftill,
Happy the man, who to the fhades retires,
Bleft whom the fweets of home-felt quiet pleafe;
T'observe a mean, be to himself a friend,
Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,
Amid her kindred ftars familiar roam,
Ye facred Nine! that all my foul poffefs, Whose raptures fire me, and whofe vifions blefs, 260 Bear me, oh bear me to fequefter'd fcenes, The bow'ry mazes, and furrounding greens ; To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Mufes fport on CoOPER'S HILL. (On COOPER'S HILL eternal wreaths shall grow, 265 While lafts the mountain, or while Thames shall flow) I feem thro' confecrated walks to rove,
I hear foft mufic die along the grove:
Led by the found, I roam from shade to shade,
Here his first lays majestic DENHAM fung;
There the last numbers flow'd from COWLEY's tongue.
VER. 251, 252. Servare modum finemque tenere,
VER. 261. O qui me gelidis, etc.
VER. 267. It stood thus in the MS.
Methinks around your holy fcenes I rove,
And hear your mufic echoing thro' the grove:
By God-like Poets venerable made.
VER. 272. There the laft numbers flow'd from Corley's tongur.] Mr. Cowley died at Chertfey, on the borders of the foreft, and was from thence convey'd to Westminster.
O early loft! what tears the river shed,
When the fad pomp along his banks was led?
Since fate relentless stop'd their heav'nly voice,
Who now fhall charm the fhades, where COWLEY ftrung
His living harp, and lofty DENHAM fung?
But hark! the groves rejoice, the foreft rings!
What fighs, what murmurs fill'd the vocal fhore !
His tuneful fwans were heard to fing no more.
VER. 290. ber filver ftar.] All the lines that follow were not added to the poem till the year 1710. What immediately followed this, and made the conclufion, were these,
My humble Mufe, in unambitious ftrains,
VER. 291. Here noble Surrey] Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, one of the first refiners of the English poetry, who flourished in the time of Henry VIII.
Matchlefs his pen, victorious was his lance,
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,
Still in thy song should vanquish'd France appear,
Let fofter ftrains ill-fated Henry mourn,
And palms eternal flourish round his urn.
Here o'er the Martyr King the marble weeps,
And, faft befide him, once-fear'd Edward fleeps:
Whom not th' extended Albion could contain,
The Grave unites; where ev'n the Great find reft,
VER. 307. Originally thus in the MS.
When Brafs decays, when Trophies lie o'erthrown,
VER. 303. Edward's acts] Edward III. born here.
VER. 314. once-fear'd Edward fleeps :] Edward IV,