Great Sheffield's mufe the long proceffion heads,
And throws a luftre o'er the pomp the leads;
Firft gives the palm fhe fir'd him to obtain,
Crowns his gay brow, and fhews him how to reign.
Thus young Alcides, by old Chiron taught,
Was form'd for all the miracles he wrought:
Thus Chiron did the youth he taught applaud,
Pleas'd to behold the earneft of a gcd.

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[joice!

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But hark! what fhouts, what gath'ring crowds reUnftain'd their praise by any venal voice, Such as th' ambitious vainly think their due, When proftitutes or needy flatt'rers fue. And fee the chief! before him laurels borne, Trophies from undeferving temples torn: Here rage enchain'd reluctant raves; and there Pale Envy dumb, and fick'ning with despair, Prone to the earth fhe bends her loathing eye, Weak to support the blaze of majesty.

But what are they that turn the facred page? Three lovely virgins, and of equal age: Intent they read, and all enamour'd feem, As he that met his likeness in the ftream: The Graces thefe; and fee how they contend, Who moft fhall praife, who beft fhall recommend. The chariot now the painful fteep afcends; The pæans ceafe; thy glorious labour ends. Here fix'd, the bright eternal temple stands, Its profpect an unbounded view commands. Say, wond'rous youth, what column wilt thou chufe, What laurell'd arch for thy triumphant mufe? Though each great Ancient court thee to his fhrine, Though ev'ry laurel through the dome be thine, (From the proud epic, down to thofe that shade The gentler brow of the foft Lesbian maid,) Go to the good and juft, an awful train, Thy foul's delight, and glory of the fane:

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While through the earth thy dear remembrance flies, "Sweet to the world, and grateful to the fkies."

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40 Simon Harcourt.

TO MR. POPE. From Rome, 1730.
IMMORTAL Bard! for whom each mufe has wove
The faireft garlands of th' Aonian grove;
Preferv'd, our drooping genius to restore,
When Addifon and Congreve are no more;
After so many stars extinct in night,
'The darken'd age's laft remaining light!
To thee from Latian realms this verfe is writ,
Infpir'd by memory of ancient wit:

For now no more thefe climes their influence boast,
Fall'n is their glory, and their virtue loft:
From tyrants, and from priefts, the Mules fly,

Daughters of Reason and of Liberty.

Nor Baie now, nor Umbria's plain they love,
Nor on the banks of Nar or Mincia rove;
To Thames's flow'ry borders they retire,
And kindle in thy breast the Roman fire.
So in the shades, where, cheer'd with fummer rays,
Melodious linnets warbled fprightly lays,
Soon as the faded, falling leaves complain
Of gloomy Winter's inaufpicious reign,
No tuneful voice is heard of joy or love,
But mournful filence faddens all the grove.
Unhappy Italy! whofe alter'd ftate

Has felt the wori feverity of fate:
Not that barbarian hands her fafces broke,

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And bow'd her haughty neck beneath their yoke;

Nor that her palaces to earth are thrown,

Her cities deiert, and her fields unfown;

But that her ancient fpirit is decay'd,

That facred wifdom froin her bounds is fled,
That there the fource of fcience flows no more,

3.

Whence its rich streams fupply'd the world before.
Illuftrious names! that once in Latium thin'd,

Born to inftruct, and to command mankind;
Chiefs, by whofe virtue mighty kome was rais'd, 35
And poets, who thofe chiefs fublimely prais'd!
Oft Ithe traces you have left explore,

Your afhes vifit, and your urns adore;

Oft

Oft kifs, with lips devout, fome mould'ring stone,
With ivy's venerable fhade o'ergrown;
Thofe hallow'd ruins better pleas'd to fee
Then all the pomp of modern luxury.

As late on Virgil's tomb fresh flow'rs I ftrow'd,
While with th' infpiring mufe my bofom glow'd,
Crown'd with eternal bays, my ravish'd eyes
Beheld the poet's awful form arife.
Stranger, he faid, whose pious hand has paid
Thefe grateful rites to my attentive shade,
When thou shalt breathe thy happy native air,
To Pope this message from his master bear :
"Great Bard, whofe numbers I myself infpire,
To whom I give my own harmonious lyre,
If high exalted on the throne of Wit,
Near me and Homer, thou afpire to fit,
No more let meaner fatire dim thy rays,
That flow majestic from thy nobler bays;
In all the flow ry paths of Pindus ftray,
But fhun that thorny, that unpleafing way;
Nor, when each foft engaging Mufe is thine,
Addrefs the leaft attractive of the Nine.

Of thee more worthy were the task to raise
A lafting column to thy country's praise;
To fing the land which yet alone can boast
That liberty corrupted Rome has loft ;
Where Science in the arms of Peace is laid,
And plants her palm beneath the olive's fhrade.
Such was the theme for which my lyre I strung,
Such was the people whofe exploits I fung;
Brave yet refin'd, for arms and arts renown'd,
With diff'rent bays by Mars and Phœbus crown'd,
Dauntless oppofers of tyrannic fway,
But pleas'd a mild Auguftus to obey.

If thefe commands fubmiffive thou receive,
Immortal and unblam'd thy name fhall live;
Envy to black Cocytus fhall retire,
And howl with furies in tormenting fire;
Approving Time fhall confecrate thy lays,
And join the patriot's to the poet's praife."
VOL. I.

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George Lyttleton.

WITH A

DISCOURSE ON PASTORAL POETRY.* [WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1704.]

Rura mihi et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes,
Flumina amem, fylvafque, inglorius!

Virg.

THERE are not, I believe, a greater number of any

fort of verses than of those which are called Paftorals, nor a fmaller, than of those which are truly fo. It therefore feems neceffary to give some account of this kind of Poem; and it is my defign to comprise, in this fhort paper, the fubftance of thofe numerous differtations the critics have made on the subject, without omitting any of their rules in my own favour: you will alfo find fome points reconciled about which they feem to differ, and a few remarks which, I think, have efcaped their obfervation.

The original of poetry is afcribed to that age which fucceeded the creation of the world; and as the keeping of flocks feems to have been the first employment of mankind, the most ancient fort of poetry was probably Paftoral. It is natural to imagine, that the leifure of thofe ancient fhepherds admitting and inviting fome diverfion, none was fo proper to that solitary and fedentary life as finging; and that in their fongs they took oɛcafion to celebrate their own felicity. From hence a poem was invented, and afterwards improved to a perfect image of that happy time; which, by giving us an esteem for the virtues of a former age, might recommend them to the prefent. And fince the life of fhepherds was attended with more tranquillity than any other rural employment, the poets chofe to introduce their perfons, from whom it received the name of Paftoral.

A Paftoral is an imitation of the action of a fhepperd, or one confidered under that character. The form of this imitation is dramatic, or narrative, or mixed of both; the fable is fimple, the manners not too polite nor too ruftic: the thoughts are plain, yet

*Written at fixteen years of age. P.

+ Fontenelle's Difcourfe on Fauorals. P.
Heinfius in Theocr. P.

admit a little quickness and passion, but that short and flowing the expreffion humble, yet as pure as the language will afford; neat, but not florid; eafy, and yet lively. In short, the fable, manners, thoughts, and expreffions, are full of the greatest fimplicity in nature.

The complete character of this Poem confifts in fimplicity, brevity, and delicacy; the two firit of which render an eclogue natural, and the laft delightful.

If we would copy Nature, it may be useful to take this idea along with us, that Paftoral is an image of what they call the Golden Age: fo that we are not to defcribe our fhepherds as thepherds at this day really are, but as they may be conceived then to have been, when the best of men followed the employment. To carry this resemblance yet further, it would not be amifs to give these fhepherds fome skill in aftronomy, as far as it may be useful to that fort of life: and and an air of piety to the gods fhould fhine through the poem, which fo vifibly appears in all the works of antiquity; and it ought to preferve fome relifh of the old way of writing: the connection fhould be loose, the narrations and descriptions fhort ‡, and the periods concife. Yet it is not fufficient that the fentences only be brief; the whole eclogue should be fo too: for we cannot fuppofe poetry in those days to have been the bufinefs of men, but their recreation at vacant hours.

But, with a refpect to the prefent age, nothing more conduces to make thefe compofures natural, than when fome knowledge in rural affairs is difcovered §. This may be made to appear rather done by chance than on design, and fometimes is beft fhewn by inference; left, by too much ftudy to feem natural, we deftroy that eafy fimplicity from whence arifes the delight. For what is inviting in this fort of poetry proceeds not fo much from the idea of that bufinefs, as of the tranquillity of a country life.

We must therefore ufe fome illufion to render a paftoral delightful; and this confifts in expofing the beft

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+Rapin de Carm. Paft. p. 2. P.

Rapin, Reflex. fur l' Art Poet. d' Arift. p. 2. Refl. xxvii. P.
Pref. to Virg. Pait. in Dryd. Virg. P.

fide