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Whose sense instructs us, and whofe humour charms,
To Delia's ear, the tender notes convey.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along!
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away;
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along! The birds fhall cease to tune their ev'ning fong, 40 The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, And streams to murmur, e'er I ceafe to love: Not bubling fountains to the thirsty swain, Not balmy fleep to lab'rers faint with pain, 'Not fhow'rs to larks, or fun-fhine to the bee, Are half so 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. 50 Ye pow'rs, what pleafing frenzy fooths my mind! Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind? She comes, my Delia comes!-Now ceafe my lay, And ceafe, ye gales, to bear my fighs away!
Next Ægon fung, while Windfor groves admir'd; Rehearse, ye Muses, what yourselves inspir❜d. Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful ftrain! Of perjur❜d Doris, dying I complain :
VER. 48. Originally thus in the MS.
With him thro' Libya's burning plains I'll go,
Mala ferant quercus; narciffo floreat alnus, Pinguia corticibus fudent electra myricæ.Virg. Ecl. viii. P. VER. 43, etc.]
Quale fopor felis in gramine, quale per aflum
Dulcis aqua faliente fitim reftinguere rivo. Ecl. v. P. VER. 52. An qui amant, ipfi fibi fomnie fingunt ? Id. viii. P.
Here where the mountains less'ning as they rife
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strain!
What eyes but hers, alas, have pow'r to move!
VER. 74. And grateful cluflers, etc.] The fcene is in Windfor-foreft. So this image not fo exact.
VER. 82. Or what ill eyes]
Nefcio quis teneros oculus mihi fufcinat agnos.
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strains! I'll fly from fhepherds, flocks, and flow'ry plains. From fhepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forfake mankind, and all the world—but love! I know thee, Love! on foreign Mountains bred, Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage Tigers fed. 90 Thou wert from Ætna's burning entrails torn, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born! Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! Farewell, ye woods, adieu the light of day! One leap from yonder cliff fhall end my pains, 95 No more, ye hills, no more refound my ftrains! Thus fung the fhepherds till th' approach of night, The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low fun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
VER. 98, 100.] There is a little inaccuracy here; the first line makes the time after fun-fet; the fecond, before.
VER. 89. Nunc fcio quid fit Amor: duris in cotibus illum, etc. P.
FOURTH PASTORA L,
To the Memory of Mrs. TEMPEST.
LYCID A S.
HYRSIS, the music of that murm'ring spring Is not fo mournful as the ftrains you fing. Nor rivers winding thro' the vales below, So fweetly warble, or fo fmoothly flow.
WINTER.] This was the Poet's favourite Pastoral. Mrs. Tempeft.] This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkshire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh, who, having celebrated her in a Paftoral Elegy, defired his friend to do the fame, as appears from one of his Letters, dated Sept. 9, 1706. "Your laft Eclogue "being