The powers of language, harmony, and grace; T' inpire mankind, itfelf deriv'd from heaven. I cannot rival-and yet dare to praise. So feems fome picture where exact defgn, And curious pains, and ftrength, and fweetnefs join; Where the free thought its pleafing grace beftows, And each warm ftroke with living colour glows; Soft without weaknefs, without labour fair, Wrought up at once with happiness and care! How bleft the man that from the world removes, To joys that Mordaunt *, or his Pope, approves; * Earl of Peterborough, conqueror of Valencia, D Nor deem this verse, though humble, a difgrace: : All are not born the glory of their race THE Hear how the birds, on every bloomy fpray, With joyous mufc wake the dawning day! Why it we mute, when early linnets fing, When warbling Philomel falutes the fpring? TRIUMVIRATE OF POETS. Why ht we fad, when Phofphor fhines fo clear, And lavish Nature paints the purple year? BY MRS. TOLLET*. STREPHON. Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, 25 RITAIN with Greece and Rome contended While yon' flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. 30 BRITAL long For lofty genius and poetic fong, Till this Auguftan age with Three was bleft, SPRING. THE FIRST PASTORAL, OR DAMON. TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBULL. Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow; Here western winds on breathing rofes blow. I'll stake yon lamb that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing fhade furveys. DAPHNIS. And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, 35 And fwelling clusters bend the curling vines: Four figures rifing from the work appear, The various feasons of the rolling year? And what is that which binds the radiant fy, Where twelve fair figns in beauteous order lie? 40 DAMON. Then fing by turns, by turns the Mufes fing; New hawthorns bloffem, now the dafes fpring, Now leaves the trees, and flowers adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall every note rebound. STREPHON. Infpire me, Thabus, in my Delia's praise, 45 With Waller's ftrains, or Granville's moving lays! A milk-white bull shall at your altars ftand, That threats a fight, and fpurns the rifing fand. DAPHNIS. O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, FIRST in the flot try victorious limpar, IRST in thefe fields I try the fylvan firains, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes; 50 SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL. OR ALEXIS. TO DR. GARTH. A Shepherd's Boy (he fecks no better name) 15 Ye fhady beeches, and ye cooling streams, Defence from Phebus', not from Cupid beams, To you I mourn; nor to the deaf I fing, The woods fhall anfwer, and their echo ring. The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay, Why art thou prouder and more hard than they? The bleating feep with my complaints agree, They parch'd with heat, and Iinflam'd by thee. 20 The fultry Sirius burn the thirsty plains, While in thy heart eternal winter reigns. 25 30 Where firay ye, Mufes, in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pines in hopeless love? In thofe fair fields where facred Ilis glides, Or elfe where Cam his winding vales divides? As in the cryftal fpring I view my face, Fresh rifing blushes paint the watery glass ; But fince thofe graces pleafe thy eyes no more, I fhun the fountains which I fought before. Once I was skill'd in every herb that grew, And every plant that drinks the morning dew; Ah, wretched fhepherd, what avails thy art, To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart! Let other fwains attend the rural care, Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces fheer : But nigh yon' mountain let me tune my lays, Embrace my Love, and bind my brows with bays. That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath Infpir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death: He faid; Alexis, t ke this pipe, the fame That taught the groves my Rofalinda's name : But row the reeds frall hang on yonder tree, For ever filent, Ence defpis'd by thee, 35 41 O! were I made by fome transforming power 45 The captive bird that fings within thy bower! Then might my voice thy liftening ears employ, And I thofe kifles he receives enjoy. And yet my numbers pleafe the rural throng, Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the fong: The Nymphs, forfaking every cave and fpring, Their early fruit and milk-white turtles bring! Q ૧ 2 This harmless grove no lurking viper hides, 75 And all things Hourifh where you turn your eyes. AUTUMN, THE THIRD PASTORAL, OR HYLAS AND EGON. TO MR. WYCHERLY. 90 Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! To Delia's car the tender notes convey. As fome fad Turtle his loft love deplores, And with deep murmurs fills the founding fhores; Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I moura. Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn. 20 Go, gentle gales, and bear my 1 ghs along! For her, the father'd quires negle& their fong: For her the limes their pleafing ades deny; 25 For her the lilles hang their heads and die. Ye flowers that droop, forfaken by the fpring, Ye birds that, left by fummer, ceafe to ing, Ye trees that fade when a tumn heats remove, Say, is not abfence death to thofe who love? 30 Go, gentle gales, and bear my ghs away! Cu Curs'd be the elds that caufe my Delia's ftay; Fade very blo tom, wit er every tree, Die every Tower, and perifh all but fre. What have I faid? Where'er my Delia flies, 35 Let ring attend, and fudden "owers arife! Let oper ing roles knotted oaks adern, And liquid amber drop from every thorn. Go, gentle gales, and bear my fghs along! The birds fhall ceafe to tune their evening fong, The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, Ard freams to murmur, ere I ceafe to love. Not bubbling fountains to the thirity fwain, Not balany fleep to labourers faint with pain, Not fhowers to larks, or fur-fhi, e to the bee, Are half fo charming as thy ght to me. 41 46 Go, gentle gales, and bear my ghs away! Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay? Through rocas and caves the name of Delia founds; Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds, 5a Ye powers, what plea ng frenzy fooths my mind! Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind? She comes, my Delia comes-Now ceafe my lay, And ceafe, ye gales, to bear my 1 ghs away! Next #gon fung, while Windfor groves admir'd; 55 Rehearfe, ye Mufes, what yourfelves infpir'd. BE plays, Hylas and Egon fung their rural lays: This mourn'd a faithlefs, that an abfent love; And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the grove. Here, where the mountains, leflening as they rife, Lofe the low vales, and fteal into the kies; While labouring oxen, spent with toil and heat, In their loofe traces from the field retreat; 60 While curling fmoaks from village tops are feen, 66 fmart, While the with garlands hung the bending boughs: WINTER. THE FOURTH PASTORAL; OR DAPHNE. To the Memory of Mrs. TEMPEST. LYCIDAS. THY Is not fo mournful as the strains you fing; THYRSIS. Thames heard the numbers, as he flow'd along, LYCIDAS. So may kind rains their vital moisture yield, 15 Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave, THYRSIS. 20 Ye gentle Mufs, leave your cryftal spring, Let Nymphs and Sylvans cyprefs garlands brings Ye weeping Loves, the ftream with myrtles hide, And break your bows as when Adonis dy'd; And with your golden darts, now useless grown, 26 Infcribe a verfe on this relenting stone : "Let nature change, let heaven and earth de"plore, "Fair Daphne's dead, and Love is now no more!" 'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay: For her the flocks refuse their verdant food, Now Daphne's dead, and pleafare is no more! 41 Shall, liftening in mid air, fufpend their wings; Her fate is whifper'd by the gentle breeze, Behold the groves that fine with filver froft, |