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Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs fhall

rife,

And all things flourish where you turn your eyes. Oh! how I long with you to pass my days,

Invoke the Muses, and refound your praise ! Your praise the birds shall chant in ev'ry grove, And winds fhall waft it to the pow'rs above. 80 But would you fing, and rival Orpheus' ftrain, The wond'ring forefts foon fhould dance again, The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call, And headlong streams hang lift'ning in their fall! But fee, the shepherds fhun the noon-day

heat, 85 The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat, To closer shades the panting flocks remove; Ye Gods! and is there no relief for Love?

VER. 79, 80.

VARIATIONS.

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 overlooked, of introducing wolves into England. P.

IMITATIONS.

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

Partem aliquam, venti, divûm referatis ad aures!

VER 88. Ye Gods, etc.]

Virg. P.

Idem. P.

Me tamen urit amor, quis enim modus adfit amori?

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.

VARIATIONS.

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

99

(76)

AUTUMN:

THE

THIRD PASTORAL,

OR,

HYLAS and E GO N.

To Mr. WY CHERLEY.

Eneath the shade afpreading Beech displays,
Hylas and Ægon fung their rural

B

lays;

This mourn'd a faithlefs, that an abfent 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;

REMARK S.

This Pastoral confifts of two parts, like the viiith of Vir

gil: The Scene, a Hill; the Time at Sun-fet.

P.

VER. 7. Thou, whom the Nine,] Mr. Wycherley, a famous

Whofe fenfe inftructs us, and whofe humour

charms,

Whofejudgment fways us, and whofe fpirit warms!
Oh, skill'd in Nature! see the hearts of Swains, I I
Their artless paffions, and their tender pains.
Now setting Phœbus fhone ferenely bright,
And fleecy clouds were streak'd with purple light;

REMARK S.

author of Comedies; of which the most celebrated were the Plain-Dealer and Country-Wife. He was a writer of infinite spirit, 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 correctnefs. P.

VER. 8. The art of Terence, and Menander's fire ;] This line alludes to that famous character given of Terence, by Cæfar :

Tu quoque, tu in fummis, & dimidiate Menander,

Poneris, et merito, puri fermonis amator :

Lenibus atque utinam fcriptis adjuncta foret vis

Comica.

So that the judicious critic fees he should have faid-with Menander's fire. For what the Poet meant, was, that his friend had join'd to Terence's art, what Cæfar thought wanting in Terence, namely, the vis comica of Menander. Befides, -and Menander's fire, is making that the Characteriftic of Menander which was not. He was distinguished for having art and comic spirit in conjunction, and Terence having only the first part, is called the half of Menander.

For

VER. 9. Whofe fenfe inftructs us, He was always very careful in his encomiums not to fall into ridicule, the trap which weak and proftitute flatterers rarely escape. fenfe, he would willingly have faid, moral; propriety required it. But this dramatic poet's meral was remarkably faulty. His plays are all fhamefully profligate both in the Dialogue and Action.

When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan, i5 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 ;

Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I mourn,
Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn.

20

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along! For her, the feather'd quires neglect their fong: For her, the limes their pleafing shades deny; 25 For her the lilies hang their heads and die. Ye flow'rs that droop, forfaken by the fpring, Ye birds that, left by fummer, ceafe to fing, Ye trées that fade when autumn-heats remove, Say, is not abfence death to those who love?

30

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

Die ev'ry flow'r, and perifh all, but the.
What have I faid? where'er my Delia flies, 35
Let fpring attend, and fudden flow'rs arife;

Let op'ning rofes knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.

4

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