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364

POPE'S WINDSOR FOREST.

expressively denominates it, stands pre-eminently the first river in our country

In that bless'd moment from his oozy bed
Old Father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head;
His tresses dropp'd with dews, and o'er the stream
His shining horns diffus'd a golden gleam;
Gravid on his urn appear'd the Moon that guides
His swelling waters and alternate tides;
The figur'd streams in waves of silver rollid,
And on his banks Augusta rose in gold !
Around his throne the sea-born Brothers stood,
Who swell with tributary urns his food!
First the fam'd authors of this ancient name,
The winding Isis and the fruitful Thane,
The Kennet swift, for silver eels renown'd,
The Lodon slow, with verdant alders crown'd;
Cole, whose dark streams his flow'ry islands lare,
And chalky Wey that rolls a mighty wave;
The blue transparent Vundalis appears,
The gulfy Lee bis sedgy tresses rears,
And sullen Mole that hides his diving flood,
And silent Darent stain'd with Danish blood!

High in the midst, upon his urn reclin'd
(His sea-green mantle waving with the wind),
The God appear'd-he turn’d his azure eyes
Where WINDSOR's domes and pompous turrets rise,
Then bow'd and spoke-the winds forget to roar,
And the hush'd waves glide softly to the shore :-

6. Hail, sacred Peace! Hail, long-expected days,
That Thames's glory to the stars shall raise !
Though Tiber's streams immortal Rome behold,
Though foaming Hermus swells with tides of gold,

pope's WINDSOR FOREST.

365

From heav'n itself though seven-fold Nilus Aows,
And harvests on a hundred realms bestows,
These now no more shall be the Muse's themes,
Lost in my fame as in the sea their streams!
Let Volga's banks with iron sqnadrons shine,
And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine,
Let barb'rous Ganges arm a servile train,
Be mine the blessings of a PEACEFUL reign!
No more my sons shall dye with British BLOOD
Red Iber's sands or Ister's foaming Aood,
Safe on my shore each unmolested swain
Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain,
The shady empire shall retain no trace
Of War or blood but in the sylvan chace,
The trumpet sleep while cheerful horns are blown,
And arms employ'd on birds and beasts alone.
Behold! th’ascending villas on my side
Project long shadows o'er the crystal tide;
Behold! Augusta's glitt'ring spires increase,
And temples rise, the beauteous works of Peace!
O stretch, fair Peace! from shore to shore,
Till Conquest cease, and Slavery be no more!
Till the freed Indians, in their native groves,
Reap their own fruits, and woo their sable loves ;
Peru once more a race of Kings behold,
And other Mexicos be roof 'd with gold!
Exil'd by thee from earth to deepest hell,
In brazen bonds shall barb'rous Discord dwell;
Gigantic Pride, pale Terror, gloomy Care,
And mad Ambition, shall attend her there;
There parple Vengeance, bath'd in gore, retires,
Her weapous blunted, and extinct her fires ;
There hateful Envy her own snakes shall feel,
And PeRSECUTION mourn her broken wheel;

366

POPE'S WINDSOR FOREST.

There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain,
And gasping Furies thirst for blood in vain!"

Here cease thy flight, nor with unhallow'd lays
Touch the fair fame of ALBION's golden days;
My humble Muse, in unambitious strains,
Paints the green Forests, and the flow'ry Plains,
Where Peace descending bids her Olive spring,
And scatters blessings from her dove-like wing!
E'en I more sweetly pass my careless days,
Pleas'd in the silent shade with empty praise,
Enough for me that to the list'ning swains
First in these fields I sung the SYLVAN STRAINS.

I subscribe myself,

My dear young Friend,

Yours, &c.

J. E.

LETTER XII.

VISIT TO THE TOMB OF GRAY; STOKE CHURCH AND CHURCH

YARD ; ITS RURAL AND SEQUESTERRD SITUATION; MANSION OF THB PENNS; MONUMENT OF GRAY; HIS BIRTH AND EDUCATION; HIS LOW SPIRITS AT CAMBRIDGB; HIS ACCOMPANIMENT OF HORACE WALPOLE IN THE TOUR OF EUROPE; HIS APPROACH TO ROME; ST. PETER'S CHURCH ILLUMINATED; RUINS OF ROME; PREFERENCE OF RICHMOND-HILL AND WINDSOR TO ALBANO AND FRESCATI; ACCOUNT OF THE PRETENDER AND HIS FAMILY; REFERENCE TO HORACE AND VIRGIL; GRAY'S RETURN TO ENGLAND;, DBATH OF HIS FATHER, AND FRIEND WEST; REFLECTIONS ON THE DEATH OF FRIENDS; GRAY'S ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD; DEATH OF HIS AUNT AND MOTHER; GRAY'S VISIT TO THE BRITISH MUSEUM; VISIT TO SCOTLAND; HIS FREFERMENT AT CAMBRIDGE; ODE ON THB INSTALLATION OF THẾ DUKE OF GRAFTON; VISIT TO THB LAKES; sun's LEVBE; SUDDEN DEATH OF GRAY; HIS CHA.

AND WRITINGS; MISS SBWARD'S CENSURB OF JOHNSON, AND EULOGIUM ON GRAY'S WRITINGS; HIS EPITAPH IN WESTMINSTER ABBBY; DINNER AT SALT HILL; REFLECTIONS ON THE EXCURSION TO WINDSOR; RETURN TO ISLINGTON,

Windsor, July, 1810. MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, HAVING had more than once pointed out to me, when walking on the Terrace at WINDSOR, the Spire of Stoke church, where Gray lies interred, a wish sprang up within my breast to visit the hallowed spot.

360

SONNET ON ASTRONOMY.

It is apparently at the extreme boundary of the solar system. Other discoveries have been made by this indefatigable astronomer. He was pleased to present me with a well-executed engraving of his great Telescope, upon my telling him that I always explained its construction to my pupils at the conclusion of my lecture on astronomy. Mentioning, also, an excellent ORRERY I had lately purchased, he replied, with great good humour,“ Orreries are pretty play-thingsMY Orrery is up there !”—pointing to the sky. The old gentlenian was very affable, and, notwithstanding his extraordinary merit, is distinguished for his modesty. He is evidently an enthusiast in his profession, enamoured of the divine science of astronomy ; its pleasures are ineffable :

I LOVB to roam amidst the starry height,

To leave the little scenes of Earth behind, And let Imagination wing her flight

On eagle pinions swifter than the wind !

I LOVE the Planets in their course to trace,

To mark the Comets speeding to the Sun, Then launch into immeasurable space,

Where, lost to human sight, remote they run!

I love to view the Moon when high she rides

Amidst the heav'ns, in borrow'd lustre bright; To fathom how she rules the subject lides,

And how she borrows from the Sun her light!

0! these are wonders of th’ Almighty hand Whose Wisdom first the circling Orbits plann'd!

RODO,

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