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Faint, breathless, thus she pray'd, nor pray'd in | Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd, vain ;

Thus Atticus and Trumbull thus retir'd. " Ah, Cynthia! ah-though banish'd from thy Ye sacred Nine! 'that all my soul possess, Let me, o let me, to the shades repair, (train, Whose raptures fire me, and whose visions bless, My native shades !—there weep, and murmur Bear me, oh bear me to sequester'd scenes, She said, and, melting as in tears she lay, (there!” | The bowery mazes, and surrounding greens ; In a soft silver stream dissolv'd away.

To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps, Or where ye, Muses, sport on Cooper's Hill; For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps;

(On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths shall grow, Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore, While last the mountain, or whileThames shall flow): And bathes the forest where she rang'd before, I seem through consecrated walks to rove, 267 In her chaste current oft the goddess laves,

hear soft music die along the grove: And with celestial tears augments the waves. Led by the sound, I roam from shade to shade. Oft in her glass the musing shepherd spies

By god-like poets venerable made : The headlong mountains and the downward skies, Here his first lays majestic Denham sung; The watery landscape of the pendant woods, There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue, And absent trees that tremble in the foods; O early lost! what tears the river shed, In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen, When the sad pomp along his banks was led! And floating forests paint the waves with green; His drooping swans on every note expire, 275 Through the fair scene roll slow the lingering | And on his willows hung each Muse's lyre. streams,

Since Fate relentless stopp'd their heavenly voice, Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames, No more the forests ring, or groves rejoice;

Thou, too, great father of the British floods ! Who now shall charm, the shades, where Cowley With joyful pride survey'st our lofty woods; His living harp, and lofty Denham sung? (strung Where towering oaks their growing honours rear, But hark! the groves rejoice, the forest rings! And future navjes on thy shores appcar.

Are these reviv'd? or is it Granville sings ! Not Neptune's self from all her streams receives 'Tis yours, my lord, to bless our soft retreats, A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives, And call the Muses to their ancient seats; No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear,

To paint anew the flowery sylvan scenes, No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear,

To crown the forests with immortal greens,
Nor Po so swells the fabling poet's lays,

Make Windsor hills in lofty numbers rise,
While led along the skies bis current strays, And lift her turrets nearer to the skies;
As thine, which visits Windsor's fam'd abodes, To sing those honours you deserve to wear,
To grace the mansion of our earthly gods:

And add new lustre to her silver star.

290 Nor all his stars above a lustre show,

Here noble Surrey felt the sacred rage,
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below; Surrey, the Granville of a former age :
Where Jove, subdued by mortal passion still, 233 Matchless bis pen, victorious was his lance,
Hight change Olympus for a nobles hill.

Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance: Happy the man whom this bright court ap- In the same shades the Cupids tun'd his lyre, proves,

235 To the same notes, of love, and soft desire : His sovereign favours, and his country loves : Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow, Happy next him, who to these shades retires, Then fill’d the groves, as heavenly Mira now, Whom Nature charnis, and whom the Muse inspires, Oh wouldst thou sing what heroes Windsor bore, Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please, What kings first breatb’d upon her winding shore, Successive study, exercise, and ease.

Or raise old warriors, whose ador'd remains He gathers health from herbs the forest yields, In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains ! And of their fragrant physic spoils the fields; With Edward's acts adorn the shining page, With chymic art exalis the mineral powers, Stretch his long triumphs down through every age ; And draws the aromatic souls of Howers: Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high ; O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye; Of ancient writ unlocks the learned store,

Ver. 267. It stood thus in the MS. Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'er :

Methinks around your holy scenes I rove, Or wandering thoughtful in the silent wood,

And hear your music echoing through the grovo, Attends the duties of the wise and good,

With transport visit each inspiring shade, To observe a mean, be to himself a friend,

By god-like poets venerable wade.
To foilow Nature, and regard his end ;

Ver. 275.
Or looks on Heaven with more than mortal eyes,
Bids his free soul expatiate in the skies,

What sighs, what murmurs, fill the vocal shore ! Amid her kindred stars familiar roam,

His tuneful swans were heard to sing no more. Survey the region, and confess her home!

Ver. 290. her silver star.] All the lines that

follow were not added to the poem till the year Ver. 233. It stood thus in the MS.

1713. What immediately follows this, and made And force great Jove if Jove's a lover still,

the conclusion, were these : To change Olympus, &c.

My humble Muse, in unambitious strains, Ver. 235.

Paints the green forests and the flowery plains; Happy the man, who to the shades retires, Where I obscurely pass my careless days, But doubly happy, if the Muse inspires,

Pleas'd in the silent shade with empty praise, Blest whom the sweets of home-felt quiet please; Enough for me that to the listening swains But far more blest, who study joins with ease. First in these fields I sung the sylvan strains.



Draw monarchs chain'd, and Cressi's glorious field, | The god appear'd: he turn'd his azure eyes
The lilies blazing on the regal shield : [301 | Where Windsor-domes and pompous turrets rise ;
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall, Then bow'd, and spoke; the winds forget to roar,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,

And the hush'd waves glide softly to the shore. Still in thy song shall vanquish'd France appear,

Hail, sacred Peace! hail, long-expected days, And bleed for ever under Britain's spear.

That Thames's glory to the stars shall raise ! Let softer strains ill-fated Henry mourn,

Though Tyber's streams immortal Rome behold, And palms eternal fourish round his urn.

Though foaming Hermus swells with tides of gold, Here o'er the martyr-king the marble weeps,

From Heaven itself the seven-fold Nilus flows, And, fast behind him, once-fear'd Edward sleeps! And harvests on a hundred realms bestows; Whom not th’ extended Albion could contain,

These now no more shall be the Muses' themes, From old Belerium to the northern main,

Lost in my fame, as in the sea their streams..
The grave upites ; where e'en the great find rest, Let Volga's banks with iron squadrons shine, 363
And blended lie th’ oppressor and th' opprest!

And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine ;
Make sacred Charles's tomb for ever known : Let barbarous Ganges arm a servile train :
(Obscure the place, and uninscrib'd the stone) Be mine the blessing of a peaceful reign.
Oh fact accurs'd! what tears has Albion shed ! 321 No more my sons shall dye with British blood
Heavens, what new wounds! and how her old have Red Iber's sands, or Ister's foaming flood :
She saw her sons with purple deaths expire, (bled! Safe on my shore each unmolested swain
Her sacred domes involv'd in rolling fire,

Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain : A dreadful series of intestine wars,

The shady empire shall retain no trace Inglorious triumphs, and dishonest scars.

Of war or blood, but in the sylvan chase : At length great Anna said, -“ Let discord The trumpet sleep, while cheerful horns are blown, Cease!

527 And arms employ'd on birds and beasts alone. She said, the world obey'd, and all was peace!

Behold! th'ascending villas on my side,
In that blest moment from his oozy bed Project long shadows o'er the crystal tide.
Old father Thames advanc'd his reverend head. 330 Behold! Augusta's glittering spires increase,
His tresses dropp'd with dews, and o'er the stream

And temples rise, the beauteous works of Peace. His shining horns diffus'd a golden gleam :

I see, I sec, where two fair cities bend Grav'd on his urn appear'd the Moon, that guides Their ample bow, a new Whitehall ascend ! His swelling waters, and alternate tides;

There mighty nations shall inquire their doom, The figur'd streams in waves of silver rollid,

The world's great oracle in times to come; And on their banks Augusta rose in gold ;

There kings shall sue, and suppliant states be sees Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood

Once more to bend before a British queen.. Who swell with tributary urns his flood !

“ Thy trees, fair Windsor! now shall leave their First the fam'd authors of his ancient name,

And half thy forests rush into thy floods; (woods, 385 The winding Isis, and the fruitful Thame :

Bear Britain's thunder, and her cross display, The Kennet swift, for silver eels renown'd;

To the bright regions of the rising day: The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crown'd; Tempt icy seas, where scarce the waters roll, Cole, whose dark streams his flowery islands lave;

Where clearer fames glow round the frozen pole ; And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave:

Or under southern skies exalt their sails, The blue, transparent Vandalis appears ;

Led by new stars, and borne by spicy gales ! The gulphy Lec his sedgy tresses rears;

For me the balm shall bleed, and amber flow, And sullen Mole, that hides his diving flood;

The coral redden, and the ruby glow, And silent Darent stain'd with Danish blood.

The pearly shell its lucid globe unfold, High in the midst, upon his urn reclin'd,

And Phæbus warın the ripening ore to gold. (His sea-green mantle waving with the wind) The time shall come, when free as seas or wind

l'nbounded Thames shall now for all mankind, VARIATIONS.

Whole nations enter with each swelling tide, . Ver. 307. Originally thus in the MS.

And seas but join the regions they divide; When brass decays, when trophies lie o'erthrown, Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold, And mouldering into dust drops the proud stone.

And the new world lanch forth to seek the old. Ver. 321. Originally thus in the MS.

Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the tide, Oh fact accurs'd! oh sacrilegious brood,

And feather'd people crowd my wealthy side, Sworn to rebellion, principled in blood !

And naked youths and painted chiefs admire Since that dire morn, what tears has Albion shed! Our speech, our colour, and our strange attire! Gods! what new wounds, &c.

Oh, stretch thy reign, fair Peace! from shore to Ver. 327. Thus in the MS.

Till conquest cease and slavery be no more; [shore, Till Anna rose, and bade the Furies cease;

Let there be peace-she said, and all was peace. Ver. 363. Originally thus in the MS. Between verse 330 and 331, originally stood these Let Venice boast her towers amidst the main, lines :

Where the rough Adrian swells and roars in vain; From shore to shore exulting shouts he heard, Here not a town, but spacious realm shall have O'er all his banks a lambent light appear'd : A sure foundation on the rolling wave. With sparkling flames Heaven's glowing concave Ver. 385, &c. were originally thus in the MS. Fictitious stars, and glories not her own. [shone, Now shall our fleets the bloody cross display 'He saw, and gently rose above the stream; To the rich regions of the rising day, Ilis shining borns diffuse a golden gleam:

Or those green isles, where headlong Titan steeus With pearl an: gold his towery front was drest, His hissing axle in th' Atlantic deeps : The tributes of the distant East and Weste Tempt icy seas,



woe, Sullen moans, Hollow groans,

Till the freed Indians in their native groves

Melancholy lifts her head,
Rap their own fruits, and woo their sable loves; Morpheus rouses from his bed,

Sloth unfolds her arıns and wakes,
Peru once more a race of kings behold,
And other Mexico's be roof'd with gold.

Listening Envy drops her snakes;
Exil'd by thee from Earth to deepest Hell,

Intestine war no more our passions wage, In brazen bonds shall barbarous Discord dwell :

And giddy factions hear away their rage. Gigantic Pride, pale Terrour, gloomy Care,

But when our country's cause provokes to arms, And mad Aibition, shall attend her there :

How martial music every bosom warms! There purple Vengeance bath'd in gorc retires,

So when the first bold vessel dar'd the seas, Her weapons blunted, and extinct ber tires :

High on the stern the Thracian rais'd his strain, There hateful Envy her own spakes shall feel,

While Argo saw her kindred trees And Persecution mourn her broken wheel:

Descend from Pelion to the main. There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain,

Transported demi-gods stood round, And gasping Furies thirst for blood in vaja."

And men grew heroes at the sound, Here cease thy flight, nor with ahallow'd lays

Intiaind with glory's charms: Touch the fair fame of Albion's golden days:

Each chief his sevenfold shield display'd, The thoughts of gols let Granville's verse recite,

And half unsheath'd the shining blade: Ant bring the scenes of opening fate to light:

And stay, and rocks, and skies rebound
My humble Yuse, in unambitious strains,

To arms, to arms, to aris !
l'aints the green forests and the flowery plains,
Where Peace descending bids her olive spring, But when through all th' infernal bounds,
And seatt rs blessings froin her dove-like wing. Which Haming Phlegetop surrounds,
Evin I more sweetly pass my careless «lays,

Love, strong as Death, the poets led
Pleas'd in the silent shade with empty praise ;

To the pale nations of the dead,
Enough to me, that to the listening swains What sounds were heard,
First in these fields I sung the sylvan strains. What scenes appear'd,

O'er all the dreary coasts!

Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,

Fires that glow,

Shrieks of

And cries of tortur'd ghosts!
But hark! he strikes the golden lyre;
And sce!. the tortur'd ghosts respire.

See, shady forms advance!

Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still,
ON sr. Cecilia's Day.

Ixion rests upon his wheel,

And the pale spectres dance! Descend, ve Nine! descend, and sing;

The Furies sink upon their iron beds, (heads, The breathing instruinents inspire;

And snakes uncurl'd hang listening round their Wake into voice each silent string, And sweep the sounding lyre!

By the streams that ever flow, In a sadly-pleasing strain

By the fragrant winds that blow
Let the warbling lute complain:

O'er the elysian flowers;
Let the loud trumpet sound,

By those happy souls who dwell
Till the roofs all around

In yellow meads of asphodel,
The shrill echoes rebound:

Or amaranthine bowers;
While, in more lengthen'd notes and slow,

By the hero's armed shades, The deep, majestic, solemn organs blow.

Glittering through the gloomy glades; Hark! the numbers soft and clear

By the youths that dy'd for love, Gently steal upon the ear;

Wandering in the myrtle grove,
Now louder, and yet louder rise,

Restore, restore Furydice to life :
And fill with spreading sounds the skies; Oh take the husband, or return the wife!
Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes,

He sung, and Hell consented
In broken air trenbling, the wild music floats;

To hear the poet's prayer;
Till, by degrees, remote and sınall,

Stern Proserpine relented,
The strains decay,

And gave him back the fair.
And melt away,

Thus Song could prevail
In a dying, dying fall.

O'er Death, and o'er Hell,

A conquest how hard and how glorious ! By Music, minds an equal temper know,

Though Fate had fast bound her Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.

With Styx nine rimes round her,
If in the breast tumultuous joys arise,

Yet Music and Love were victorious.
Music her soft, assuasive voice applies;
Or, when the soul is press’d with cares,

But soon, too soon the lover turns his eyes !
Exalts her in enlivening airs.

Again she falls, again she dies, she dies ! Warriors she tires with animated sounds;

How wilt thou now the fatal sisters move? Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds; No criine was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.


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Now under hanging mountains,

To what new crime, what distant sky, Beside the falls of fountains,

Forsaken, friendless, shall ye Ay? Or where Hebrus wanders,

Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore?
Rolling in meanders

Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?
All alone,

Unbeard, unknown,

When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
He makes his moan;

When wild Barbarians spurn her dust;
And calls her ghost,

Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
For ever, ever, ever lost !

Shall cease to blush with stranger's gore: Now with Furies surrounded,

See Arts her savage sons control, Despairing, confounded,

And Athens rising near the pole! He trembles, he glows,

Till some new tyrant lifts his purple hand,
Amidst Rhodape's snows :

And civil madness tears them from the land.
See, wild as the win-ls, o'er the desert he fies;
Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries-

Ye gods! what justice rules the ball !
Ah see, he dies!

Freedom and Arts together fall;
Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung;

Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves,
Eurydice still trembled on his tongue;

And men, once ignorant are slaves.
Eurydice the woods,

Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,
Eurydice the floods,

In every age, in every state!
Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rụng, Still, when the lust of tyrant power succeeds,
Music the fiercest grief can charm,

Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds.
And Fate's severest rage disarm:
Music can soften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness please;
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the bliss above,

Oh tyrant Love! bast thou possest
This the divine Cecilia found,

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast!
And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound, Wisdom and Wit in vain reclaim,
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire, And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame,
Th’immortal powers incline their ear;

Love, soft intruder, enters here,
Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire,

But entering learns to be sincere. While solemn airs improve the sacred fire;

Marcus with blushes owns he loves, And angels lean from Heaven to hear.

And Brutus tenderly reproves. Of Orpheus now no more let poets tell,

Why, Virtue, dost thou blame desire, To bright Cecilia greater power is given :

Which Nature has imprest? His numbers rais'd a shade from Hell,

Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire Her's lift the soul to Heaven,

The mild and generous breast;

Lore's purer fames the gods approve;

The gods and Brutus bend to Love:

Brutus for absent Porcia sighs,

And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's eyes.

What is loose love? a transient gust,
ALTERED FROM SHAKESPEARE BY THE DUKE OF BUCK- Spent in a sudden storm of lust;

INGHAM, AT WHOSE DESIRE THESE TWO CHORUSES A vapour fed from wild desire,
WERE COMPOSED, TO SUPPLY AS MANY, WANTING A wandering, self-consuming fire.
IN HIS PLAY. THEY WERE SET MANY YEARS AFTER- But Hymen's kinder flames unite,

And burn for ever one;

Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,

Productive as the Sun.



Yshades, where sacred truth is sought;

Groves, where immortal sages taught;
Where heavenly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd !
In vain your guiltless laurels stood

Unspotted long with human blood.
War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Muses' shades.

Oh heaven-born sisters! source of art!
Who charm the sense, or mend the heart;
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral truth and mystic song !

Oh source of every social tye,
United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,
As son, as father, brother, husband, friend !

Whether his hoary sire he spies,
While thousand grateful thoughts arise ;
Or meets his spouse's fonder eye;
Or views his smiling progeny ;
What tender passions take their turns,

What home-felt raptures move!
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,

With reverence, hope and love.


Hence, guilty joys, distastes, surmises;
Hence, false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprizesį



Pires that scorch, yet dare not shine:

201.] give rules for the study of the art of criPurest love's unwasting treasure,

ticism; the second [from thence to ver. 560.) Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure ;

exposes the causes of wrong judgment; and the Days of ease, and nights of pleasure;

third [from thence to the end) marks' out the Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

morals of the critic. When the reader hath well considered the whole, and hath observed the

regularity of the plan, the masterly conduct of ODE ON SOLITUDE.

the several parts, the penetration into Nature,

and the compass of learning so conspicuous WRITTEN WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS ABOUT TWELVE

throughout, he should then be told, that it was

the work of an author who had not attained the Happy the man, whose wish and care

twentieth year of his age.—A very learned critic A few paternal acres bound,

has shown, that Horace had the same attention Content to breathe his native air,

to method in his Art of Poetry.
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire ;

CONTENTS OF THE ESSAY ON CRITICISM, Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcern'dly find

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge Hours, days, and years, slide soft away,

ill, as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to In health of body, peace of mind,

to the public, ver. 1. Quiet by day,

That a true taste is as rare to be found as a true Sound sleep by night; study and ease,

genius, ver. 9 to 18. Together mix’d; sweet recreation,

That most men are born with some taste, but And innocence, which most does please

spoiled by false education, ver. 10 to 25. With meditation.

The multitude of critics, and causes of them, ver. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

26 to 45. Thus unlamented let me die,

That we are to study our own taste, and know the Steal from the world, and not a stone

limits of it, ver. 46 to 67.
Tell where I lie.

Nature the best guide of judgment, ver. 68 to 87.
Improved by art and rules, which are but me-

thodized nature, ver. 88.

Rules derived from the practice of ancient poets, TUE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.

ver. 88 to 110. VITAL spark of heavenly flame!

That therefore the ancients are necessary to be

studied by a critic, particularly Homer and Quit, ob quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, lingering, Aying,

Virgil, ver. 120 to 138. Oh the pain, the bliss of dying !

Of licences, and the use of them by the an. Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,

cients, ver. 140 to 130.

Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them, And let me languish into life.

ver. 181, &c. Hark! they whisper; angels say,

PART II. VÉR. 203, &c.
Sister spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite?

Causes hindering a true judgment. 1. Pride,

Ver. 201. 2. Imperfect learning, ver. 215. Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?

3. Judging by parts, and not by the whole,

ver. 233 to 288. Critics in wit, language, Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

versification, only, 288, 305, 339, &c. 4. The world recedes; it disappears !

Being too hard to please, or too apt to admire, Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears

ver. 384.

5. Partiality-too much love to a With sounds seraphic ring:

sect, -to the ancients or moderns, ver. 394. Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fy!

6. Prejudice or prevention, ver. 408.

7. SinO Grave! where is thy victory?

gularity, ver. 424. 8. Inconstancy, ver. 430. O Death! where is thy sting?

9. Party spirit, ver. 352, &c.

10. Envy, ver. 466. Against envy, and in praise of good-nature, ver. 508, &c. When severity is

chiefly to be used by the critics, ver. 526, &c. ESSAY ON CRITICISM.

PART UI. VER. 560, &c.

Rules for the conduct of manners in a critic.
Si quid novisti rectius istis,

1. Candour, ver. 563. Modesty, ver. 566. Candidus imperti ; si non, his utere mecum. Hor.

Good-breeding, ver. 572. Sincerity and freedom of advice, ver. 578. 2.

When one's

counsel is to be restrained, ver. 584. CharacThe Poem is in one book, but divided into three ter of an incorrigible poet, ver. 600; and of an principal parts or members. The first (to ver. impertinent critic, ver. 610, &c. Character of

a good critic, ver. 629. The history of cri"Mr. Pope told me himself, that the Essay on ticism, and characters of the best critics : Criticism was indeed written in 1707, though said Aristotle, ver. 645. Horace, ver. 653. Dio. 1709 by mistake. J. Richardson,

nysius, ver. 665. Petronius, ver. 667. Quid


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