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As in the cryftal fpring I view my face,
Fresh rifing blushes paint the watry glass;
But fince thofe graces please thy eyes no more,
I fhun the fountains which I fought before.
Once I was skill'd in ev'ry herb that grew,
And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew
Ah wretched fhepherd, what avails thy art,
To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart!
Let other fwains attend the rural care,
Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces sheer:
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
Infpir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death; 40


VER. 39. Colin] The name taken by Spenfer in his Eclogues, where his mistress is celebrated under that of Rofalinda. P.

VER. 27.


Oft in the cryftal fpring I caft a view,
And equal'd Hylas, if the glass be true;
But fince thofe graces meet my eyes no more,
I fhun, etc.



Naïdes, indigno cum Gallus amore periret?
Nam neque Parnassi vabis juga, nam neque Pindi
Ulla moram fecere, neque Aonia Aganippe.

Virg. out of Theocr.


VER. 27. Virgil again from the Cyclops of Theocritus,

nuper me in littore vidi

Cum placidum ventis ftaret mare, non ego Daphnim, Judice te, metuam, fi nunquam fallat imago. VER. 40. bequeath'd in death; etc.] Virg. Ecl. ii. Eft mihi difparibus feptem compacta cicutis Fiftula, Damatas dono mihi quam dedit olim, Et dixit moriens, Te nunc habet ifta fecundum.



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He faid; Alexis, take this pipe, the fame
That taught the groves my Rofalinda's name:
But now the reeds fhall hang on yonder tree,
For ever filent fince despis'd by thee.

Oh! were I made by fome transforming pow'r 45
The captive bird that fings within thy bow'r!
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 spring,

Their early fruit, and milk-white turtles bring;
Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain,
On you their gifts are all beftow'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 sylvan scenes appear ! Defcending Gods have found Elyfium herę. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd, And chafte Diana haunts the foreft fhade, Come, lovely nymph, and bless the filent hours, When swains from fheering feek their nightly


When weary reapers quit the fultry field,


And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield,

C 3



VER. 60. Defcending Gods have found Elyfium here.]


Habitarunt Di quoque fylvas
Et form fus oves ad flumina pavit Adonis. Idem. P.

This harmless grove no lurking viper 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 mofly 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 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 Mufes, and refound your praise !
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 should dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call,
And headlong ftreams hang lift'ning in their fall!


But fee, the shepherds fhun the noon-day heat, The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat, 86 T.

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 himfelf overlooked, of introducing wolves into England. P.


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

Partem aliquam, venti, divím referatis ad aures!

Virg. P.

To closer shades 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 scorches, as he burns by day.



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


VER. 88. Ye Gods, etc.]

Me tamen urit amor, quis enim medus adfit amori?

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Eneath the fhade a spreading Beech displays,

Hylas and Ægon fung their rural lays,

This mourn'd a 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 inspire, The art of Terence, and Menander's fire;


This Paftoral confifts of two parts, like the viiith 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 moft celebrated were the Plain-Dealer 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; tho' with a little more correctness. P.

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