Our minds unmov'd and unconcern'd they lull, And are at best most mufically dull: So purling streams with even murmurs creep, And hush the heavy hearers into fleep. 20 As smoothest speech is most deceitful found, 15 The smootheft numbers oft are empty found. But Wit and Judgment join at once in you, Sprightly as Youth, as Age confummate too: Your strains are regularly bold, and please With unforc'd care, and unaffected ease, With proper thoughts, and lively images: Such as by Nature to the Antients shewn, Fancy improves, and judgment makes your own: For great mens fashions to be follow'd are, Altho' difgraceful 'tis their clothes to wear. Some in a polish'd style write Paftoral, Arcadia speaks the language of the Mall; Like fome fair Shepherdefs, the Sylvan Mufe, Should wear those flow'rs her native fields produce; And the true measure of the Shepherd's wit 39 Should, like his garb, be for the Country fit: Yet muft his and unaffected thought pure 25 More nicely than the common fwains be wrought, So, with becoming art, the Players dress In filks the fhepherd, and the shepherdels; 35 Yet ftill unchang'd the form and mode remain, 40 The long loft graces of Simplicity: Live and enjoy their spite! nor mourn that fate, Which would, if Virgil liv'd, on Virgil wait; Whofe Mufe did once, like thine, in plains delight; Thine fhall, like his, foon take a higher flight; So Larks, which first from lowly fields arife, 50 Mount by degrees, and reach at last the skies. W. WYCHERLEY. To Mr. POPE, on his Windfor-Foreft. AIL, facred Bard! a Mufe unknown before HAIL Salutes thee from the bleak Atlantic shore. To our dark world thy fhining page is shown, And Windfor's gay retreat becomes our own. } The Eaftern pomp had just bespoke our care, Thy treasures next arriv'd: and now we boast From thy luxuriant Forest we receive More lafting glories than the Eaft can give. 15 The sylvan state that on her border grows, 20 25 When Philomela fits and warbles there, Than when you fing the greens and op'ning glades, And give us Harmony as well as Shades: A new creation starts in ev'ry line. } How fudden trees rife to the reader's fight, Thrice happy you! and worthy best to dwell Cold as my thought, and barren as my rhyme, 1 Ojoyless flood! O rough tempeftuous main! 50 green: The awful dome, the groves eternal 65 Ev'n I effay'd to touch the trembling string: 70 Who could hear them, and not attempt to fing? Rouz'd from these dreams by thy commanding ftrain, I rise and wander through the field or plain ; 3 0 |