Page images

Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,
Bids his free foul expatiate in the skies,
Amid her kindred ftars familiar roam,
Survey the region, and confefs her home!
Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd,
Thus Atticus, and TRUMBAL thus retir'd.


Ye facred Nine! that all my foul poffefs, Whose raptures fire me, and whofe vifions blefs, Bear me, oh bear me to fequefter'd scenes, The bow'ry mazes, and furrounding greens. To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Mufes fport on COOPER'S HILL. (On COOPER'S HILL eternal wreaths fhall grow, While lafts the mountain, or while Thames fhall flow)

I feem thro' confecrated walks to rove,


I hear foft mufic die along the grove:
Led by the found, I roam from shade to shade,
By god-like poets venerable made:


VER. 265. It food thus in the MS.

Methinks around your holy fcenes I rove,

And hear your mufic echoing thro' the grove:
With transport vifit each infpiring fhade
By God-like Poets venerable made.



VER. 259. O qui me gelidis, etc.


Here his first lays majeftic DENHAM fung;
There the last numbers flow'd from COWLEY'S


O early loft! what tears the river shed,
When the fad pomp along his banks was led ?
His drooping fwans on ev'ry note expire,
And on his willows hung each Muse's lyre.

Since fate relentless flop'd their heav'nly voice,275
No more the forefts ring, or groves rejoice;
Who now fhall charm the fhades, where COWLEY


His living harp, and lofty DENHAM fung?

But hark! the groves rejoice, the foreft rings!
Are thefe reviv'd? or is it GRANVILLE fings! 280
'Tis yours, my Lord, to bless our soft retreats,
And call the Muses to their ancient feats;
To paint anew the flow'ry fylvan scenes,
To crown the forefts with immortal greens,
Make Windfor-hills in lofty numbers rife,
And lift her turrets nearer to the fkies;

VER. 273.

What fighs, what murmurs fill'd the vocal fhore!
His tuneful fwans were heard to fing no more.




VER. 270. There the laft numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue.] Mr. Cowley died at Chertfey, on the borders of the foreft, and was from thence convey'd to Westminster.

To fing those honours you deserve to wear,
And add new luftre to her filver ftar.

Here noble SURREY felt the facred rage, SURREY, the GRANVILLE of a former age: Matchlefs his pen, victorious was his lance, Bold in the lifts, and graceful in the dance : In the fame fhades the Cupids tun'd his lyre, To the fame notes, of love, and soft defire : Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow, Then fill'd the groves, as heav'nly Mira now. Oh would'st thou fing what heroes Windfor bore,



What kings first breath'd upon her winding fhore,
Or raife old warriors, whofe ador'd remains
In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains!


VER. 288. ber filver ftar.] All the lines that follow were not added to the poem till the year 1710. What immediately followed this, and made the conclufion, were thefe,

My humble Mufe in unambitious ftrains

Paints the green forefts and the flow'ry plains;
Where I obfcurely pafs my careless days,
Pleas'd in the filent fhade with empty praise,
Enough for me that to the lift'ning swains
Firft in thefe fields I fung the fylvan ftrains.


VER. 289. Here noble Surrey] Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, one of the first refiners of the English poetry; who flourish'd in the time of Henry VIII,

With Edward's acts adorn the shining page, Stretch his long triumphs down thro' ev'ry age, Draw monarchs chain'd, and Creffi's glorious field,

The li'ies blazing on the regal shield:

Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,305 And leave inanimate the naked wall,

Still in thy fong fhould vanquish'd France appear, And bleed for ever under Britain's fpear.


Let fofter ftrains ill-fated Henry mourn, And palms eternal flourish round his urn. Here o'er the Martyr- King the marble weeps, And, fast beside him, once-fear'd Edward sleeps : Whom not th' extended Albion could contain, From old Belerium to the northern main, The grave unites; where ev'n the Great find rest, And blended lie th' oppreffor and th' oppreft! 316 Make facred Charles's tomb for ever known, (Obfcure the place, and un-infcrib'd the ftone)


VER. 305. Originally thus in the MS.

When Brafs decays, when Trophies lie o'er-thrown,
And mould'ring into duft drops the proud flone.



VER. 301. Edward's acts] Edward III. born here.
VER. 309. Henry mourn,] Henry VI.
VER. 312. once-fear'd Edward fleeps :] Edward IV.

Oh fact accurs'd! what tears has Albion fhed,

Heav'ns, what new wounds! and how her old have bled?


She faw her fons with purple deaths expire,
Her facred domes involv'd in rolling fire,
A dreadful feries of inteftine wars,
Inglorious triumphs and difhoneft fcars,


At length great ANNA faid-" Let Difcord ceafe !”
She faid, the world obey'd, and all was Peace!
In that bleft moment from his oozy bed

Old father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head.
His treffes drop'd with dews, and o'er the stream
His fhining horns diffus'd a golden gleam:



VER. 319. Originally thus in the MS.

Oh fact accurft! oh facrilegious brood,

Sworn to Rebellion, principled in blood!
Since that dire morn what tears has Albion fhed!
Gods! what new wounds, etc.

VER. 325. Thus in the MS.

Till Anna rofe and bade the Furies cease;

Let there be peace-she said, and all was Peace.

Between Verse 328 and 329, originally stood these lines:
From fhore to fhore exulting fhouts he heard,
O'er all his banks a lambent light appear'd,

With fparkling flames heav'n's glowing concave fhone,
Fictitious ftars, and glories not her own.

He faw, and gently rose above the stream;
His fhining horns diffuse a golden gleam :
With pearl and gold his tow'ry front was dreft,
The tributes of the diftant Eaft and Weft.

« PreviousContinue »