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Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compriz'd in one.
See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!
Descending Gods have found Elyfium here.
In woods bright Venus with Adonis ftray'd,
And chafte Diana haunts the forest shade.
Come, lovely nymph, and bless the filent hours,
When swains from sheering seek their nightly
When weary reapers quit the fultry field, 65
And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield.
This harmless grove no lurking viper hides,
But in my breast the serpent Love abides.
Here bees from blossoms fip the rosy dew,
Alexis knows no sweets but you.
Oh deign to visit our forsaken seats,
The mossy fountains, and the green retreats !
Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees, where you fit, fhall croud into a shade :
Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
Oh! how I long with you to pass my days,
Invoke the Muses, and resound your praise!
Vzr. 60. Descending Gods have found Elysium kere.]
Habitarunt Dî quoque fylvas Virg.
Et formosus oves ad Aumina pavit Adonis. Idem.
Your praise the birds shall chant in ev'ry grove,
And winds shall waft it to the pow'rs above.
But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain,
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call,
And headlong streams hang list’ning in their fall !
But see, the shepherds thun the noon.
The lowing herds to murm’ring brooks retreat, 86
To closer shades the panting flocks remove ;
Ye Gods! and is there no relief for Love ?
But foon the fun with milder
To the cool ocean, where his journey ends :
On me love's fiercer flames for ever prey,
By night he scorches, as he burns by day.
VARIATIONS. Ver. 79 80.
Your praise the tuneful birds to hear'n shall bear,
And lift’ning wolves grow milder as they hear. So the verses were originally written. But the author, young as he was, foon found the absurdity which Spenser himself over-looked, of introducing wolves into England. VER. 91. Me love inflames, nor will his fires allay.
IMITATIONS. Ver. 80. And winds shall waft, etc.]
Partem aliquam, venti, divûm referatis ad aures! Virg. Ver. 88. Ye Gods ! etc.]
Me tamen urit amor, quis enim modus adfit amori? Kem.
Hylas and Ægon sung their rural lays;
This mourn'd a faithiess, that an absent Love,
And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the Grove.
Ye Mantuan nymphs, your facred succour bring; 5
Hylas and Egon's rural lays I fing,
Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus’ wit inspire,
The art of Terence, and Menander's fire ;
This Pastoral consists of two parts, like the visith of Virgil :
The Scene, a Hill; the Time at Sunset.
Ver. 7. Thou, whom the Nine,] Mr. Wycherley, a famous author of Comedies ; of which the most celebrated were the Plain-Dealer and Country. H'ife. He was a writer of infinite
Whose sense instructs us, and whose humour charms,
Whose judgment fways us, and whose spirit warms!
Oh, skill'd in Nature ! see the hearts of Swains, il
Their artless paffions, and their tender pains.
Now setting Phæbus fhone serenely bright,
And fleecy clouds were streak'd with purple light;
When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan, 15
Taught rocks to weepand made the mountains groan.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away!
To Delia's ear the tender notes convey.
As some fad Turtle his lost love deplores,
And with deep murmurs fills the sounding shores;
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 fhades deny; 25 For her, the lilies hang their heads and die. Ye flow'rs that droop, forsaken by the spring, Ye birds that, left by summer, cease to fing, Ye trees that fade when autumn-heats remove, Say, is not absence death to those who love ?
30 Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! Curs'd be the fields that cause my Delia's stay ;
Spirit, satire, and wit. The only objection made to him was that he had too much. However he was followed in the same way by Mr. Congreve ; tho with a little more correctness.
Fade ev'ry blossom, wither ev'ry tree,
Die ev'ry flow'r, and perilh all, but she.
What have I said? where'er my Delia flies, 35
Let spring attend, and sudden flow'rs arise ;
Let op'ning roses knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along!
The birds shall cease to tune their ev’ning fong, 40
The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move,
And streams to murmur, e'er I cease to love.
Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty swain, a
Not balmy fleep to lab'rers faint with pain,
Not show'rs to larks, or sun-fhine to the bee, 45
Are half so charming as thy fight to me.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away! Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay?
VER. 48. Originally thus in the MS.
With him thro' Libya's burning plains l'll go,
On Alpine mountains tread th' eternal snow;
Yet feel no heat but what our loves impart,
And dread no coldness but in Thyrsis' heart,
Mala ferant quercus; narcisso floreat alnus,
Pinguia corticibus fudent electra myricæ. Virg. Ecl. viii, VER. 43. etc.]
Quale fopor feslis in gramine, quale per æstum
Dulcis aquæ saliente fitim restinguere rivo. Ecl. v.