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Where then, ah where fhall poverty refide,
To fcape the preffure of contiguous pride?
If to fome common's fenceless limits ftray'd,
He drives his flock to pick the fcanty blade,
Thofe fenceless fields the fons of wealth divide,
And ev'n the bare-worn common is deny'd.

If to the city fped-What waits him there?
To fee profufion that he muft not share;
To fee ten thousand bancful arts combin'd
To pamper luxury, and thin mankind;
To fee cach joy the fons of pleasure know,
Extorted from his fellow-creature's woc.
Here, while the counter glitters in brocade,
There the pale artift plies the fickly trade;
Here, while the proud their long-drawn pomps
difplay,

There the black gibbet glooms befide the way.
The doine where pleature holds her mid-night
reign,

Here, richly deckt, admits, the gorgeous train;
Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing fquare,
The rattling chariots clafh, the torches glare.
Sure, fcenes like thefe no troubles c'er annoy !
Sure, thefe denote one univerfal joy! [eyes
Are thefe thy ferious thoughts?-Ah, turn thine
Where the poor houfelets thiv'ring female lies!
She once, perhaps, in village plenty bleft,
Has wept at tales of innocence diftreft;
Her modeft looks the cottage might adorn,
Sweet as the primrofe peeps beneath the thorn;
Now loft to all; her friends, her virtue fled,
Near her betrayer's doors fhe lays her head,
And, pinch'd with cold, and fhrinking from the
fhow'r,

With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour,
When idly firft, ambitious of the town,

She left her wheel and robes of country brown!
Do thine, fweet Auburn, thine, the lovelieft
Do thy fair tribes participate her pain? [train,
Ev'n now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led,
At proud mens doors they afk a little bread!

Ah, no. To distant climes, a dreary scene,
Where half the convex world intrudes between,
Thro' torrid tracts with fainting steps they go,
Where wild Altama murmurs to their woc.
Far diff'rent there from all that charm'd before,
The various terrors of that horrid fhore;
Those blazing funs, that dart a downward ray,
And fiercely fhed intolerable day;
Those matted woods where birds forget to fing,
But filent bats in drowfy clufters cling;
Thofe pois'nous fields with rank luxuriance
crown'd,

Where the dark fcorpion gathers death around;
Where at cach ftep the ftranger fears to wake
The rattling terrors of the vengeful fnake;
Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey,
And favage men, more murd'rous ftill than they;
While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies,
Mingling the ravag'd landscape with the fkies.
Far diff'rent thefe from ev'ry former feene,
The cooling brook, the graffy-vefted green,
The breczy covert of the warbling grove,
That only fhelter'd thefts of harmless love.

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parting day,

That call'd them from their native walks away;
When the poor exiles, cv'ry pleasure paft,
Hung round the bow'rs, and fondly look'd their
laft!

And took a long farewell, and wish'd in vain
For feats like thefe beyond the western main !
And thudd'ring ftill to face the distant deep,
Return'd and wept, and ftill return'd to weep!
The good old fire, the firft prepar'd to go
To new-found worlds, and wept for others woe;
But for himself, in confcious virtue brave,
He only with'd for worlds beyond the grave.
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of his hapleís years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for her father's arms.
With louder plaints, the mother spoke her woes,
And bleft the cot where ev'ry pleasure rofe;
And kift her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clafpt them clofe in forrow doubly dear;
Whilft her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the filent manliness of grief.

O, Luxury! thou curft by Heav'n's decree,
How ill exchang'd are things like thefe for thee!
How do thy potions, with infidious joy,
Diffufe their pleafures only to deftroy!
Kingdoms by thee, to fickly greatnefs grown,
Boaft of a florid vigour not their own.
At ev'ry draught more large and large they grow,
A bloated mais of rank unwieldy woc;
Till fapp'd their firength, and ev'ry port unfound,
Down, down they fink, and spread a ruin round.

Ev'n now the devaftation is begun,

And half the bus'nefs of deftruction done;
Ev'n now, methinks, as pond'ring here I stand,
I fee the rural virtues leave the land.
Down where yon anch'ring veffel spreads the fail
That idly waiting flaps with ev'ry gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pafs from the thore, and darken all the strand.
Contented toil, and hofpitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness are there;
And piety, with withes plac'd above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou, fweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,
Still firft to fly where fenfual joys invade;
Unfit in thefe degen'rate times of shame
To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame;
Dear charming nymph, neglected and decry'd,
My fhame in crowds, my folitary pride.
Thou, fource of all my blifs, and all my woe,
That found it me poor at firft, and keep'ft me to;
Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel,
Thou, fource of ev'ry virtue, fare thee well;
Farewell, and O! where'er thy voice be try'd,
On Torrio's cliffs, or Pambamarca's fide,
Whether where equinoctial fervours glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in fnow,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redrefs the rigours of th'inclement clime;
Aid flighted truth with thy perfuafive strain;
Teach erring man to fpurn the rage of gain;

Teach

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WHILE with a ftrong, and yet a gentle, hand,
You bridle faction, and our hearts command;
Protect us from ourselves, and from the foe,
Make us unite, and make us conquer too:
Let partial fpirits ftill aloud complain :
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot reign:
And own no liberty, but where they may
Without controul upon their fellows prey.
Above the waves as Neptune fhew'd his face
To chide the winds, and fave the Trojan race,
So has your Highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of ambition, toffing us, repreft.
Your drooping country, torn with civil hate,
Restor❜d by you, is made a glorious state;
The feat of empire, where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scots, to fetch their doom.
The fea's our own: and now all nations greet,
With bending fails, each veffel of our fleet:
Your pow'r extends as far as winds can blow,
Or fwelling fails upon the globe may go.
Heav'n (that hath plac'd this island to give law,
To balance Europe, and her states to awe)
In this conjunction doth on Britain fmile;
The greatest leader, and the greatest ifle!
Whether this portion of the world was rent
By the rude ocean from the continent,
Or thus created; it was fure defign'd
To be the facred refuge of mankind.
Hither th'oppreffed fhall henceforth refort,
Juftice to crave, and fuccour, at your court:
And then your Highnefs, not for ours aione,
But for the world's Protector fhall be known.
Fame, fwifter than your winged navy, flies
Thro' ev'ry land that near the ocean lies,
Sounding your name, and telling dreadful news
To all that piracy and rapine ufe.
With fuch a chief the meanest nation bleft,
Might hope to lift her head above the rest:
What may be thought impoffible to do
By us, embraced by the fea and you?
Lords of the world's great wafte, the ocean, we
Whole forests fend to reign upon the fea;
And ev'ry coaft may trouble, or relieve;
But none can visit us without your leave.
Angels and we have this prerogative,
That none can at our happy feats arrive;
While we defcend at pleasure, to invade

The bad with vengeance, and the good to aid.

Our little world, the image of the great,
Like that, amidst the boundlefs ocean fet,
Of her own growth hath all that nature craves;
And all that's rare, as tribute from the waves.
As Egypt does not on the clouds rely,
But to the Nile owes more than to the sky;
So, what our earth, and what our heav'n, denies,
Our ever-conftant friend, the fea, fupplies.
The taste of hot Arabia's fpice we know,

Free from the fcorching fun that makes it grow:

Without the worm, in Perfian filks we fhine;

And, without planting, drink of ev'ry vine.

To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs;
Gold, tho' the heaviest metal, hither fwims:
Ours is the harveft where the Indians mow;
We plough the deep, and reap what others sow,
Things of the nobleft kind our own foil breeds;
Stout are our men, and warlike are our fleeds:
Rome, tho' her eagle thro' the world had flow'n,
Could never make this ifland all her own.

Here the third Edward, and the Black Prince too,
France-conquering Henry, flourish'd; and now
For whom we ftay'd, as did the Grecian state,[ you:
Till Alexander came to urge their fate.
When for more worlds the Ma edonian cry'd,
He wift not Thetis in her lap did hide
Another yet: a world referv'd for you,
To make more great than that he did fubdue.
He fafely might old troops to battle lead,
Against th'unwarlike Pelfian and the Mede;
Whofe hafty flight did, from a bloodless field,
More fpoils than honour to the victor yield.
A race unconquer'd, by their clime made bold,
The Caledonians, arm'd with want and cold,
Have, by a fate indulgent to your fame,
Been from all ages kept for you to tame.
Whom the old Roman wall fo ill confin'd,
With a new chain of garrifons you bind:
Here foreign gold no more shall make them come;
Our English iron holds them fast at home.
They, that henceforth must be content to know
No warmer region than their hills of fnow,
May blame the fun; but muft extol your grace,
Which in our fenate hath allow'd them place.
Preferr'd by conqueft, happily o'erthrown,
Falling they rife, to be with us made one:
So kind Dictators made, when they came home,
Their vanquish'd foes free citizens of Rome.
Like favour find the Irish, with like fate,
Advanc'd to be a portion of our state:
While by your valour, and your bounteous mind,
Nations divided by the fea are join'd.
Holland, to gain your friendship, is content
To be our out-guard on the Continent:
She from her fellow-provinces would go,
Rather than hazard to have you her foe.
In our late fight, when cannons did diffufe,
Preventing pofts, the terror and the news,
Our neighbour-princes trembled at their roar:
But our conjunction makes them tremble more.
Your

R

Your never-failing fword made war to cease;
And now you heal us with the acts of peace:
Our minds with bounty and with awe engage,
Invite affection, and reftrain our rage.
Lefs pleafure take brave minds in battles won,
Than in reftoring fuch as are undone :
Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear;
But man alone can whom he conquers spare.
To pardon, willing; and to punish, loth;
You ftrike with one hand, but you heal with both.
Lifting up all that proftrate lie, you grieve
You cannot make the dead again to live.
When fate or crior had our age misled,
And o'er this nation fuch confufion fpread,
The only cure which could from heav'n come
Was fo much pow'r and piety in one! [down,
One! whofe extraction from an ancient line
Gives hope again that well-born men may fhine.
The meaneft, in your nature mild and good;
The noble, reft fecured in your blood.

Oft have we wonder'd, how you hid in peace
A mind proportion'd to fuch things as thefe;
How fuch a ruling fp'rit you could reftrain,
And practise first o'er yourself to reign.
Your private life did a juft pattern give,
How fathers, hufbands, pious fons, thould live:
Born to command, your princely virtues flept,
Like humble David's, while the flock he kept.
But when your troubled country call'd you forth,
Your flaming courage and your matchlefs worth,
Dazzling the eyes of all that did pretend,
To fierce contention gave a profp'rous end.
Still as you rife, the fate, exalted too,
Finds no diftemper while 'tis chang'd by you;
Chang'd like the world's great fcene! when,
without noife,

The rifing fun night's vulgar lights destroys.
Had you, fome ages paft, this race of glory
Run, with amazement we should read your ftory:
But living virtue, all atchievements paft,
Meets envy ftill, to grapple with at last.

This Cæfar found: and that ungrateful age,
With lofing him, went back to blood and rage:
Miftaken Brutus thought to break their yoke,
But cut the bond of union with that firoke.
That fun once fet, a thoufand meaner stars
Gave a dim light to violence and wars:
To fuch a tempeft as now threatens all,
Did not your mighty arm prevent the fall.
If Rome's great fenate could not wield that fword,
Which of the conquer'd world had made them
Lord,
[new,
What hope had ours, while yet their pow'r was
To rule victorious armies, but by you?

You! that had taught them to fubdue their foes,
Could order teach, and their high fp'nts com-
To ev'ry duty could their minds engage, [pofe:
Provoke their courage and command their rage.

So, when a lion fhakes his dreadful manc,
And angry grows, if he that firft took pain
To tame his youth, approach the haughty beat,
He bends to him, but frights away the reft.
As the vex'd world, to find repose, at laft
Itfelf into Auguftus' arms did caft,
So England now does, with like toil oppreft,
Her weary head upon your bofom reft.
Then let the Mufes, with fuch notes as thefe,
Inftru&t us what belongs unto our peace!
Your battles they hereafter fhall indite,
And draw the image of our Mars in fight;
Tell of towns ftorm'd, of armies over-run,
And mighty kingdoms by your conduct won;
How, while you thunder'd, clouds of duft did
choak

Contending troops, and feas lay hid in finoke.
Illuftrious acts high raptures do infufe,
And ev'ry conqueror creates a Mufe:
Here in low ftrains your milder deeds we fing;
But there, my Lord! we'll bays and olive bring
To crown your head: while you in triumph ride
O'er vanquifh'd nations, and the fea befide:
While all your neighbour-princes unto you,
Like Jofeph's fheaves, pay reverence and bow.

$23. Cooper's Hill. DENHAM.
SURE there are pocts which did never dream
Upon Parnaffus, nor did tafte the stream
Of Helicon; we therefore may suppose
Thofe made not poets, but the poets those.
And as courts make not kings,but kings the court,
So, where the Mufes and their train refort,
Parnaffus ftands; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnaffus art to me.
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy aufpicious height)
Thro' untrac'd ways and airy paths I fly,
My eye, which fwift as thought contracts the space
More boundlefs in my fancy than my eye:
That lies between, and firft falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, fo vast, so high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth or fky,
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Alpiring mountain, or defcending cloud,
Paul's the late theme of fuch a Mufe whofe flight
Has bravely reach'd, and foar'd above thy height:
Now thalt thou ftand, tho' fword, or time, or fire,
Or zcal, more fierce than they, thy fall confpire,
Secure, whilft thee the beft of poets fings,
Preferv'd from ruin by the beft of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies,
And, like a mift, beneath a hill doth rife;
Whofe ftate and wealth, the bufinefs and the
crowd,

Seems at this diftance but a darker cloud:
And is, to him, who rightly things efteems,
No other in effect than what it feems:
Where, with like hafte, tho' feveral ways they
Some to undo, and fome to be undone;
* Mr. Waller.

[run,

While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the other's ruin and increase ;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be loft again.
Oh happiness of fweet retir'd content!
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next(where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itfelf prefent
With fuch an cafy and unforc'd afcent,
That no ftupendous precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes:
But fuch a rife as doth at once invite
A pleasure and a rev'rence from the fight.
Thy mighty master's emblem, in whose face
Sat meeknels, heighten'd with majestic grace;
Such feems thy gentle height, made only proud
To be the bafis of that pompous load,
Than which, a nobler weight no mountain bears,
But Atlas only which fupports the fpheres.
When Nature's hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wifer pow'r than Chance ;
Mark'd out for fuch an ufe, as if 'twere meant
Tinvite the builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when what we chufe,
Folly or blindeis only could refufe.

A crown of fuch majestic tow'rs doth grace
The gods great mother, when her heav'nly race
Do homage to her, yet the cannot boast
Among that num'rous and celeftial hoft,
More heroes than can Windfor; nor doth Fame's
Immortal book record more noble names.
Not to look back fo far, to whom this ifle
Owes the first glory of fo brave a pile,
Whether to Cæfar, Albanact, or Brute,
The British Arthur, or the Danish Cnute
(Though this of old no lefs conteft did move,
Than when for Homer's birth feven cities ftrove;
Like him in birth, thou should'st be like in fame,
As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame);
But whofoe'er it was, Nature defign'd
First a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount those sev'ral kings, to whom
It gave a cradle, or to whom a tomb;
But thee, great Edward*, and thy greater fon
(The lilies which his father wore he won)
And thy Bellona †, who the confort came
Not only to thy bed, but to thy fame,
She to thy triumph led one captive king,
And brought that fon, which did the fecond bring.
Then didit thou found that order (whether love
Or victory thy royal thoughts did move)
Each was a noble cause, and nothing lefs
Than the defign has been the great fuccefs;
Which foreign kings and emperors esteem
The fecond honor to their diadem.
Had thy great deftiny but giv'n thee skill
To know, as well as pow'r to act her will,
That from thofe kings, who then thy captives
In after-times fhould fpring a royal pair, [were,
Who should poffefs all that thy mighty pow'r,
Or thy defires more mighty, did devour:
To whom their better fate referves whate'er
The victor hopes for, or the vanquish'd fear ;
Edward III. and the Black Prince.

That blood which thou and thy great grandfire
And all that fince thefe filter nations bied, med,
Had been unfpilt, and happy Edward known
That all the blood he fpilt had been his own.
When he that patron chofe, in whom are join'd
Soldier and martyr, and his arms confin'd
Within the azure circle, he did feem
But to foretel, and prophefy of him,
Who to his realms that azure round hath join'd,
Which Nature for their bound at firft defign'd;
That bound which to the world's extremeft ends,
End: is itfelf, its liquid arms extends.
Nor doth he need thofe emblems which we paint,
But is himfelf the foldier and the faint.
Here should my wonder dweli,and here my praife;
But my fix'd thoughts my wand'ring eye betrays,
Viewing a neighb'ring hill, whofe top of late
A chapel crown'd, till in the common fate
Th'adjoining abbey fell: (may no fuch ftorm
Fall on our times, where ruin muft reform !)
Tell me, my Mufe, what monftrous dire offence,
What crime, could any Chriftian king incenfe
To fuch a rage? Was't luxury, or luft?
Was he fo temperate, so chafté, fo juft? [more:
Were thefe their crimes? They were his own much
But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor;
Who, having spent the treafures of his crown,
Condemns their luxury to feed his own.
And yet this act, to varnish o'er the thame
Of facrilege, muft bear Devotion's name.
No crime to bold, but would be understood
A real, or at least a seeming good:
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name,
And, free from confcience, is a flave to fame:
Thus he the church at once protects, and poils:
But princes fwords are fharper than their styles.
And thus to th'ages paft he makes amends;
Their charity deftroys, their faith defends.
Then did religion in a lazy cell,

In empty, airy contemplations dwell;
And, like the block, unmoved lay: but ours,
As much too active, like the ftork, devours.
Is there no temperate region can be known
Betwixt their frigid and our torrid zone?
Could we not wake from that lethargic dream,
But to be reftlefs in a worse extreme >
And for that lethargy was there no cure,
But to be caft into a calenture?
Can knowledge have no bound, but muft advance.
So far, to make us with for ignorance;
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a falfe guide to err by day?
Who fees thefe difmal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous invader fack'd the land?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring
This defolation, but a Christian king;
When nothing, but the name of zeal, appears
'Twixt our beft actions and the worst of theirs ;
What does he think our facrilege would fpare,
When fuch th'effects of our devotions are
Parting from thence 'twixt anger, fhame, and fear,
Thofe for what's paft, and this forwhat's too near,
My eye. defcending from the hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton vallies strays.
+ Queen Philippa. The kings of France and Scotland.
Thames,

R 2

Thames, the most lov'd of all the ocean's fons
By his old fire, to his embraces runs;
Hafting to pay his tribute to the fea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.

Tho' with those streams he no refemblance hold,
Whofe foam is amber, and their gravel gold;
His genuine and lefs guilty wealth t'explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his thore;
O'er which he kindly spreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th'enfuing fpring.
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like mothers who their infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous wave,
Like profufe kings, refumes the wealth he gave.
No unexpected inundations fpoil
[toil:
The mower's hopes, nor mock the plowman's
But god-like his unweary'd bounty flows:
First loves to do, then loves the good he does.
Nor are his bleffings to his banks confin'd,
But free and common, as the fea or wind;
When he, to boast or to 'difperfe his ftores
Full of the tributes of his grateful shores,
Vifits the world, and in his flying tow'rs
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours;
Finds wealth where 'tis, beftows it where it wants,
Cities in defarts, wood in cities plants.
So that to us, no thing no place is strange,
While his fair bofom is the world's exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!

Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full.
Heav'n her Eridanus no more shall boaft,
Whofe fame in thine, like leffer current, 's loft;
Thy nobler ftreams thall vifit Jove's abodes,
To thine among the stars*, and bathe the gods.
Here nature, whether more intent to please
Us for herfelf, with ftrange varieties,
(For things of wonder give no lefs delight
To the wife Maker's, than beholder's fight,
Tho' thefe delights from fev'ral caufes move;
For fo our children, thus our friends we love)
Wifely the knew, the harmony of things,
As well as that of founds, from difcord fprings.
Such was the difcord which did firft difperfe
Form, order, beauty, thro' the univerfe;
While drynefs moisture, coldness heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts.
While the steep horrid roughnefs of the wood
Strives with the gentle calmnefs of the flood.
Such huge extremes, when nature doth unite,
Wonder from hence refults, from thence delight.
The ftream is fo tranfparent, pure, and clear,
That had the felf-enamour'd youth gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,
While he the bottom, not his face had fecn.
But his proud head the airy mountain hides
Among the clouds; his fhoulders and his fides
A fhady mantle clothes; his curled brows
Frown on the gentle ftream, which calmly flows;
While winds and ftorms his lofty forchead beat:
The common fate of all that's high or great.

Low at his foot a spacious plain is plac'd,
Between the mountain and the ftream embrac'd;
Which fhade and shelter from the hill derives,
While the kind river wealth and beauty gives;
And in the mixture of all these appears
Variety, which all the reft endears.

This fcene, had fome bold Greek or British bard
Beheld of old, what stories had we heard
Of fairies, fatyrs, and the nymphs their dames,
Their feafts,their revels, and their am'rous flames?
'Tis ftill the fame, altho' their airy shape
All but a quick poetic fight escape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts,
And thither all the horned hoft reforts
To graze the ranker mead, that noble herd,.
On whofe fublime and thady fronts is rear'd
Nature's great mafter-piece; to fhew how foon
Great things are made, but fooner are undone,
Here have 1 feen the king, when great affairs
Gave leave to flacken and unbend his cares,
Attended to the chace by all the flow'r
Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devour:
Pleafure with praife, and danger they would buy,
And with a foe that would not only fly.
The ftag, now confcious of his fatal growth,
At once indulgent to his fear and floth,
To fome dark covert his retreat had made,
Where nor man's eye, nor Heav'n's should invade
His foft repofe; when th'unexpected found
Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound:
Rouz'd with the,noife, he fcarce believes his ear,
Willing to think th'illufions of his fear
Had giv'n this falfe alarm; but ftreight his view
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true.
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet;
All inftruments, all arts of ruin met:

He calls to mind his strength, and then his speed,
His winged heels, and then his armed head;
With thefe t'avoid, with that his fate to meet:
But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet.
So faft he flies, that his reviewing eye
Has loft the chacers, and his car the cry;
Exulting, till he finds their nobler fenfe
Their difproportion'd fpeed doth recompenfe;
Then curfes his confpiring feet, whofe fcent
Betrays that fafety which their fwiftnefs lent.
Then tries his friends; among the bafer herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd,
His fafety feeks: the herd, unkindly wife,
Or chacts him from thence, or from him flies,
Like a declining statefinan, left forlorn
To his friends pity, and purfuers fcorn,
With fhame reinembers, while himself was one
Of the faine herd, himself the fame had done.
Thence to the coverts and the confcious groves,
The fcenes of his paft triumphs and his loves;
Sadly furveying where he rang'd alone,
Prince of the foil, and all the herd his own;
And, like a bold knight-errant, did proclaim
Combat to all, and bore away the dame;
And taught the woods to echo to the stream
His dreadful challenge and his clashing beam.
The Foreft.

Yet

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