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BOOK I.

To fill my rifing fong with facred fire,
Ye tuneful Nine, ye fweet celeftial quire!
From Helicon's embowering height repair,
Attend my labours, and reward my prayer;
The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write,
The fprings of conteft, and the fields of fight;
How threatening mice advanc'd with warlike

grace,

And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race.
Not louder tumults shook Olympus' towers,
When earth-born giants dar'd immortal powers.
These equal acts an equal glory claim,
And thus the mufe records the tale of fame.

Once on a time, fatigued and out of breath,
And just escap'd the stretching claws of death,
A gentle moufe, whom cats pursued in vain,
Fled swift of foot across the neighbouring plain,
Hung o'er a brink, his eager thirst too cool,
And dipp'd his whiskers in the standing pool;
When near a courteous frog advanc'd his head,
And from the waters, hoarfe refounding, faid,
What art thou, ftranger? what the line you
boaft?

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What chance has caft thee panting on our coaft ?
With strictest truth let all thy words agree,
Nor let me find a faithlefs moufe in thee.
If worthy, friendship, proffer'd friendship take,
And entering view the pleasurable lake;
Range o'er my palace, in my bounty fhare,
And glad return from hofpitable fare:
This filver realm extends beneath my fway,
And me, their monarch, all its frogs obey.
Great Phyfignathus I, from Peleus' race,
Begot in fair Hydromede's embrace,
Where, by the nuptial bank that paints his fide,
The fwift Eridanus delights to glide. [claim
Thee too, thy form, thy ftrength, and port, pro-
A fcepter'd king; a fon oi martial fame
Then trace thy line, and aid my guefling eyes.
Thus ceas'd the frog, and thus the mouse replies.
Known to the gods, the men, the birds that fly
Through wild expanfes of the midway fky,
My name refounds; and if unknown to thee,
The foul of great Plycarpax lives in me.
Of brave Troxartas' line, whofe fleeky down
In love comprefs'd Lychomile the brown.
My mother the, and princefs of the plains
Where'er her father Pternotractas reigns.
Born where a cabbin lifts its airy fhed,
With figs, with nuts, with vary'd dainties fed.
But, fince our natures nought in common know,
From what foundation can a friendship grow?
These curling waters o'er thy palace roll;
But man's high food fupports my princely foul:
In vain the circled loaves attempt to lie
Conceal'd in flaskets from my curious eye.

In vain the tripe that boafts the whiteft hue,
In vain the gilded bacon fhuns my view,
In vain the cheeses, off-pring of the pail,
Or honey'd cakes, which gods themselves regale;
And as in arts I fhine, in arms I fight,
Mix'd with the braveft, and unknown to flight,
Though large to mine, the human form appear,
Not man himself can fmite my foul with fear,
Sly to the bed with filent fteps I go,
Attempt his finger, or attack his toe,
And fix indented wounds with dextrous fkill,
Sleeping he feels, and only feems to feel.
Yet have we foes which direful dangers caufe,
Grim owls with talons arm'd, and cats with claws,
And that falfe trap, the den of filent fate,
Where death his ambush plants around the bait :
All dreaded thefe, and dreadful o'er the reft
The potent warriors of the tabby veft,
If to the dark we fly, the dark they trace,
And rend our heroes of the nibbling race,
But me, nor stalks nor waterish herbs delight,
Nor can the crimfon radifh charm my fight,
The lake-refounding frogs felected fare,
Which not a moufe of any tafte can bear.

As thus the downy prince his mind exprest,
His answer thus the croaking king addreft:

Thy words luxuriant on thy dainties rove,
And, itranger, we can boast of bounteous Jove :
We fport in water, or we dance on land,
And, born amphibious, food from both command.
But truft thyself where wonders ask thy view,
And fafely tempt thofe feas, I'll bear thee through:
Afcend my shoulders, firmly keep thy feat,
And reach my marthy court, and feaft in ftate.
He faid, and bent his back; with nimble bound
Leaps the light moufe, and clafps his arms around,
Then wondering floats, and fees with glad lurvey
The winding banks refembling ports at fea.
But when aloft the curling water rides,
And wets with azure wave his downy fides,
His thoughts grow conscious of approaching woc,
His idle tears with vain repentance flow,
His locks he rends, his trembling feet he rears,
Thick beats his heart with unaccustom'd fears;
He fighs, and, chill'd with danger, longs for fhore:
His tail extended, forms a fruitlefs oar,
Half drench'd in liquid death his prayers he spake,
And thus bemoan'd him from the dreadful lake:
So país'd Europa through the rapid fea,
Trembling and fainting all the venturous way;
With oary feet the bull triumphant rode,
And fafe in Crete depos'd his lovely load.
Ab, fate at last, may thus the frog fupport
My trembling limbs to reach his ample court!
As thus he forrows, death ambiguous grows,
Lo! from the deep a water hydra role;

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He rolls his fanguin'd eyes, his befom heaves,
And darts with active rage along the waves.
Confus'd the monarch fees his hiffing foc,
And dives, to fhun the fable fates below.
Forgetful frog! the friend thy fhoulders bore,
Unfkill'd in swimming, floats remote from shore.
He grafps with fruitless hands to find relief,
Supinely falls, and grinds his teeth with grief;
Plunging he finks, and ftruggling mounts again,
And finks, and ftrives, but ftrives with fate in
vain.

The weighty moisture clogs his hairy veft,
And thus the prince his dying rage expreft:

Nor thou, that fling'ft me flound'ring from thy
back,

As from hard rocks rebounds the fhattering wrack,
Nor thou shalt 'fcape thy due, perfidious king!
Purfucd by vengeance on the fwifteft wing!
At land thy ftrength could never equal mine,
At fea to conquer, and by craft, was thine.
But heaven has gods, and gods have fearching eyes:
Ye mice, ye mice, my great avengers rife!

This faid, he fighing gafp'd, and gasping dy'd,
His death the young Lychopynax elpy'd,
As on the flowery brink he pafs'd the day,
Bafk'd in the beams, and loiter'd life away.
Loud fhrieks the moufe, his fhrieks the fhores
repeat;

The nibbling nation learn their heroe's fate :
Grief, dismal grief enfues; deep murmurs found,
And fhriller fury fills the deafen'd ground.
From lodge to lodge, the facred heralds run,
'To fix their council with the rifing fun;
Where great Troxartas crown'd in glory reigns,
And winds his lengthening court beneath the
Plycarpax' father, father now no more! [plains.
For poor Plycarpax lies remote from fhore;
Supine he lies! the filent waters ftand,
And no kind billow wafts the dead to land!

BOOK II.

WHEN rofy-finger'd morn had ting'd the clouds,
Around their monarch-moufe the nation crowds,
Slow rose the fovereign, heav'd his anxious breast,
And thus the council, fill'd with rage, addreft:
For loft Pfycarpax much my foul endures,

'Tis mine the private grief, the public yours.
Three warlike fons adorn'd my nuptial bed,
Three fons, alas, before their father dead!
Our eldest perish'd by the ravening cat,
As near my court the prince unheedful fat.
Our next, an engine fraught with danger drew,
The portal gap'd, the bait was hung in view,
Dire arts aflift the trap, the fates decoy,
And men unpitying kill'd my gallant boy!
The laft, his country's hope, his parent's pride,
Plung'd in the lake by Phyfignathus dy'd;
Roufe all to war, my friends! avenge the deed;
And bleed that monarch, and his nation bleed.

His words in every breaft infpir'd alarms,
And careful Mars fupply'd their hoft with arms.
In verdant hulls defpoil'd of all their beans,
'The bufkin'd warriors ftalk'd along the plains:

Quills aptly bound their bracing corfelet made,
Fac'd with the plunder of a cat they flay'd:
The lamp's round bofs affords them ample fhield;
Large fhells of nuts their covering helmet yield;
And o'er the region, with reflected rays,
Tall groves of needles for their lances blaze,
Dreadful in arms the marching mice appear;
The wondering frogs perceive the tumult near,
Forfake the waters, thickening, form a ring,
And ask, and hearken, whence the noises spring.
When near the crowds, difclos'd to public view,
The valiant chief Embafichytros drew :
The facred herald's fceptre grac'd his hand,
And thus his word exprefs'd his kings command:
Ye frogs! the mice, with vengeance fir'd, ad-

vance,

And deck'd in armour fhake the fhining lance:
Their hapless prince by Phyfignathus flain,
Extends incumbent on the watery plain.
Then arm your hoft, the doubtful battle try:
Lead forth those frogs that have the foul to die.
The chief retires, the crowd the challenge
hear,

And proudly fwelling, yet perplex'd appear :
Much they refent, yet much their monarch blame,
Who, rifing, fpoke to clear his tainted fame :

O friends! I never forc'd the moufe to death,
Nor faw the gasping of his latest breath,
He, vain of youth, our art of fwimming try'd,
And, ventrous, in the lake the wanton dy'd,
To vengeance now by falfe appearance led,
They point their anger at my guiltlefs head,
But wage the rifing war by deep device,
And turn its fury on the crafty mice.
Your king directs the way; my thoughts, elate
With hopes of conqueft form defigns of fate.
Where high the banks their verdant furface heave,
And the fteep fides confine the fleeping wave,
There, near the margin, clad in armour bright,
Sustain the first impetuous fhocks of fight:
Then, where the dancing feather joins the creft,
Let each brave frog his obvious mouse arreft;
Each, ftrongly grafping, headlong plunge a foe,
Till countless circles whirl the lake below;
Down fink the mice in yielding waters drown'd;
Loud flash the waters; and the fhores refound :
The frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd plain,
And raile their glorious trophies of the flain.

He fpake no more, his prudent scheme imparts
Redoubling ardour to the boldest hearts.
Green was the fuit his arming heroes chofe;
Around their legs the greaves of mallows close;
Green were the beets about their fhoulders laid,
And green the colewort, which the target made,
Form'd of the vary'd fhells the waters yield,
Their gloffy helmets gliften'd o'er the field:
And tapering fea-reeds for the polish'd fpear,
With upright order pierc'd the ambient air.
Thus drefs'd for war, they take th' appointed
height,

Poife the long armis, and urge the promis'd fight.
But now, where Jove's irradiate fpires arife,
With fars furrounded in ætherial fkies,
(A folemn council call'd) the brazen gates
Unbar; the gods affume their golden feats:

The fire fuperior leans, and points to fhow
What wondrous combats mortals wage below:
How ftrong, how large, the numerous herces
ftride,
[pride!
What length of lance they shake with warlike
What eager fire, their rapid march reveals!
So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the dales;
And fo confirm'd, the daring Titans rofe,
Heap'd hills on hills, and bid the gods be foes.
This feen, the power his facred vifage rears;
He cafts a pitying fmile on worldly cares,
And asks what heavenly guardians take the lift,
Or who the mice, or who the frogs affift?

Then thus to Pallas: If my daughter's mind
Have join'd the mice, why ftays she still behind;
Drawn forth by favory fteams they wind their
And fure attendance round thine altar pay, [way,
Where while the victims gratify their tafte,
They fport to please the goddess of the feaft.

Thus pake the Ruler of the fpacious skies.
But thus, refolv'd, the blue-ey'd maid replies :
In vain, my father! all their dangers plead,
To fuch thy Pallas never grants her aid.
My flowery wreaths they petulantly spoil,
And rob my crystal lamps of feeding oil.
(Ills following ills!) but what afflicts me more,
My veil that idle race profanely tore.
The web was curious, wrought with art divine;
Relentless wretches! all the work was mine!
Along the loom the purple warp I spread,
Caft the light shoot, and croft the filver thread;
In this their teeth a thousand breaches tear,
The thousand breaches fkilful hands repair,
For which, vile earthly dunns thy daughter grieve
(The gods, that ufe no coin, have none to give;
And learning's goddefs never lefs can owe,
Neglected learning gains no wealth below).
Nor let the frogs to win my fuccour fue,
Those clamorous fools have loft my favour too:
For late, when all the conflict ceas'd at night,
When my stretch'd finews work'd with eager
fight,

When spent with glorious toil, I left the field,
And funk for flumber on my fwelling fhield;
Lo from the deep, repelling fweet repose,
With noify croakings half the nation rofe:
Devoid of reft, with aching brows I lay,
Till cocks proclaim'd the crimifon dawn of day.
Let all, like me, from either hoft forbear,
Nor tempt the flying furies of the spear;
Let heavenly blood (or what for blood may flow)
Adorn the conqueft of a meaner foe.

Some daring moufe may meet the wondrous odds,
Though gods oppose, and brave the wounded gods.
O'er gilded clouds reclin'd, the danger view,
And be the wars of mortals fcenes for
you.

So mov'd the blue-ey'd queen; her words perGreat Jove aflented, and the reit obey'd. [fuade,

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The chiefs, confpicuous feen and heard afar,
Give the loud fignal to the rushing war;
Their dreadful trumpets deep-mouth'd hornets
found;

The founding charge remurmurs o'er the ground;
Ev'n Jove proclaims a field of horror nigh,
And rolls low thunder through the troubled fky.
First to the fight large Hypfiboas flew,
And brave Lychenor with a javelin flew.
The lucklefs warrior, fill'd with generous flame,
Stood foremost glittering in the poft of fame;
When, in his liver ftruck, the javelin hung,
The moufe fell thundering, and the target rung;
Prone to the ground, he finks, his clofing eye,
And foil'd in duft his lovely treffes lie.

A fpear at Pelion Troglodytes caft;
The miffive fpear within the bofom paft:
Death's fable fhades the fainting frog furround,
And life's red tide runs cbbing from the wound.
Embafichytros felt Scutlæus' dart

Transfix, and quiver in his panting heart;
But great Artophagus aveng'd the flain,
And big Scutleus tumbling loads the plain;
And Polyphonus dies, a frog renown'd
For boaftful speech and turbulence of found;
Deep through the belly pierc'd, fupine he lay,
And breath'd his foul against the face of day.

The ftrong Lymnocharis, who view'd with ire
A victor triumph, and a friend expire;
With heaving arms a rocky fragment caught,
And fiercely flung where Troglodytes fought
(A warrior vers'd in arts, of fure retreat;
But arts in vain elude impending fate);
Full on his finewy neck the fragment fell,
And o'er his eye-lids clouds eternal dwell.
Lychenor (fecond of the glorious name)
Striding advanc'd, and took no wandering aim;
Through all the frogs the fhining javelin flies,
And near the vanquish'd mouse the victor dies.

The dreadful ftroke Crambophagus affrights, Long bred to banquets, lefs inur'd to fights, Heedlefs he runs, and ftumbles o'er the fteep, And wildly floundering flashes up the deep; Lychenor, following with a downward blow, Reach'd in the lake his unrecover'd foe; Gafping he rolls, a purple ftream of blood Diftains the furface of the filver flood; Through the wide wound the rushing entrailą throng,

And flow the breathless carcafe floats along.

Lymnifius good Tyroglyphus affails, Prince of the mice that haunt the flowery vales, Loft to the milky fares and rural feat, He came to perifh on the bank of fate.

The dread Pternoglyphus demands the fight, Which tender Calaminthius fhuns by flight, Drops the green target, fpringing quits the for, Glides through the lake, and fafely dives below. But dire Pternophagus divides his way Through breaking ranks, and leads the dreadful

day.

No nibbling prince excell'd in fiercenefs more,
His parents fed him on the favage boar;
But where his lance the field with blood imbrucd,
Swift as he mov'd Hydrocharis purfuμed;

Till fallen in death he lies, a fhattering stone
Sounds on the neck, and crushes all the bone:
His blood pollutes the verdure of the plain,
And from his noftrils burfts the gufhing brain.
Lycopinax with Borborocates fights,

A blameless frog, whom humbler life delights;
The fatal javelin unrelenting flies,
And darkness feals the gentle croaker's eyes.

Incens'd Praffophagus, with Iprightly bound,
Bears Cniffodioctes off the rifing ground,
Then drags him o'er the lake depriv'd of breath,
And, downward plunging, finks his foul to death.
But now the great Plycarpax fhines afar
(Scarce he fo great whofe lofs provok'd the war);
Swift to revenge his fatal javelin fled,
And through the liver ftruck Pelufius dead;
His freckled corpfe before the victor fell,
His foul indignant fought the fhades of hell.

This faw Pelobates, and from the flood Heav'd with both hands a monftrous mass of mud; The cloud obfcene o'er all the hero flies, Dishonours his brown face, and blots his eyes. Enrag'd, and wildly fputtering, from the shore A stone, immenfe of size, the warrior bore, A load for labouring earth, whofe bulk to raise Afks ten degenerate mice of modern days. Full on the leg arrives the crushing wound : The frog, fupportlefs, writhes upon the ground.

Thus flulh'd, the victor wars with matchlefs Till loud Crangafides arrefts his courfe. [force, Hoarse croaking threats precede! with fatal fpecd Deep through the belly ran the pointed reed, Then, ftrongly tugg'd, return'd imbrued with

gore,

And on the pile his reeking entrails bore.

The lame Sitophagus, oppreis'd with pain, Creeps from the defperate dangers of the plain; And where the ditches rifing weeds fupply To fpread their lowly fhades beneath the sky, There lurks the filent moufe reliev'd from heat, And, fafe embower'd, avoids the chance of fate. But here Troxartas, Phyfignathus there, Whirl the dire furies of the pointed spear; But where the foot around its ankle plies, Troxartas wounds, and Phyfignathus flies, Halts to the pool, a fafe retreat to find, And trails a dangiing length of leg behind. The moufe ftill urges, ftill the frog retires, And half in anguish of the flight expires.

Then pious ardour young Preffæus brings, Betwixt the fortunes of contending kings: Lank harmless frog! with forces hardly grown, He darts the reed in combat not his own, Which, faintly tinkling on Troxartas' fhield, Hangs at the point, and drops upon the field. Now nobly towering o'er the reft appears A gallant prince, that far tranfcends his years, Pride of his fire, and glory of his houte, And more a Mars in combat than a mouse : His action bold, robuft his ample frame, And Maridarpax his refounding name. The warrior, fingled from the fighting crowd, Boafts the dire honours of his arms aleud; Then ftrutting near the lake, with looks clate, To all its nations threats approaching fate :

And fuch his ftrength, the filver lakes around
Might roll their waters o'er unpeopled ground,
But powerful Jove, who fhews no lefs his grace
To frogs that perifh, than to human race,
Felt foft compaffion rifing in his soul,
And shook his facred head, that fhook the pole.
Then thus to all the gazing powers began
The fire of gods, and frogs, and mice, and man :
What feas of blood 1 view! what worlds of
flain!

An Iliad rifing from a day's campaign;
How fierce his javelin o'er the trembling lakes
The black-furr'd hero Meridarpax shakes!
Unlefs fome favouring deity defcend,
Soon will the frogs loquacious empire end.
Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with pity fly,
And make her ægis blaze before his eye;
While Mars refulgent on his rattling car,
Arrefts his raging rival of the war.

He ceas'd, reclining with attentive head,
When thus the glorious god of combats faid:
Nor Pallas, Jove though Pallas take the field,
With all the terrors of her hiffing shield;
Nor Mars himself, though Mars in armour bright
Afcend his car, and wheel anidit the fight;
Not thefe can drive the defperate mouse afar,
Or change the fortunes of the bleeding war.
Let all go forth, all heaven in arms arise,

Or launch thy own red thunder from the fkies,
Such ardent bolts as flew that wondrous day,
When heaps of Titans mix'd with mountains lay;
When all the giant race enorinous fell,
And huge Enceladus was hurl'd to hell.

'Twas thus th' armipotent advis'd the gods,
When from his throne the cloud-compeller nods,
Deep-lengthening thunders run from pole to pole,
Olympus trembles as the thunders roll.
Then Iwift he whirls the brandish'd bolt around,
And headiong darts it at the distant ground;
The bolt difcharg'd inwrap'd with lightning flies,
And rends its flaming paffage through the skies;
Then earth's inhabitants, the nibblers, fhake,
And frogs, the dwellers in the waters, quake.
Yet still the mice advance their dread design,
And the laft danger threats the croaking line;
Till Jove, tha: inly mourn'd the lofs they bore,
With ftrange affiftants fill'd the frighted shore.

Pour'd from the neighbouring ftrand, deform'd
to view,

They march, a fudden unexpected crew!
Strong fuits of armour round their bodies clafe,
Which, like thick anvils, blunt the force of blows;
In wheeling marches torn oblique they go;
With harpy claws their limbs divide below;
Fell sheers the paffage to their mouth command
From out the flesh their bones by nature ftand;
Broad Ipread their backs, their fhining shoulders
rife;

Unnumber'd joints diftort their lengthen'd thighs;
With nervous cords their hands are firmly brac'd;
Their round black eye-balls in their bofom plac'd;
On eight long feet the wondrous warriors tread;
And either end alike fupplies a head.
Thefe, mortal wits to call the crabs
agree
The gods have other names for things than we.

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Now where the jointures from their loins depend,

The heroes tail with severing grafps they rend. Here, fhort of feet, depriv'd the power to fly, There, without hands, upon the field they lie. Wrench'd from their holds, and fcatter'd all a

round,

The bended lances heap the cumber'd ground.

| Helpless amazement, fear purfuing fear,
And mad confusion, through their host appear:
O'er the wild waite with headlong flight they go,
Or creep conceal'd in vaulted holes below.

But down Olympus to the western feas
Far-shooting Phoebus drove with fainter rays;
And a whole war (fo Jove ordain'd) begun,
Was fought, and ceas'd, in one revolving fun.

To

TO MR. POPE.

o praife, yet ftill with due refpect to praise, A bard triumphant in immortal bays, The learn'd to fhew, the fenfible commend, Yet ftill preferve the province of the friend, What life, what vigour, must the lines require? What music tune them? what affection fire?

O might thy genius in my bofom shine!
Thou should'st not fail of numbers worthy thine,
The brighest ancients might at once agree
To fing within my lays, and fing of thec
Horace himself would own thou dost excel
In candid arts to play the critic well.
Ovid himself might wish to fing the dame
Whom Windfor Forest sees a gliding stream,
On filver feet, with annual ofier crown'd,
She runs for ever through poetic ground.

How flame the glories of Belinda's hair,
Made by thy mufe the envy of the fair!
Less fhone the treffes Ægypt's princef's wore,
Which fweet Callimachus fo fung before.
Here courtly treffes fet the world at odds,

Still flide thy waters foft among the trees,
Thy afpins quiver in a breathing breeze,
Smile all thy vallies in eternal fpring,
Be hufh'd, ye winds! while Pope and Virgil fing.
In English lays, and all fublimely great,
Thy Homer warms with all his ancient heat,
He fhines in council, thunders in the fight,
And flames with every fense of great delight.
Long has that poet reign'd, and long unknown,
Like monarchs fparkling on a distant throne;
In all the majesty of Greece retir'd,
Himself unknown, his mighty name admir'd,
His language failing, wrapp'd him round with
night,

Thine, rais'd by thee, recalls the work to light,
So wealthy mines, that ages long before
Fed the large realms around with golden ore,
When choak'd by finking banks, no more appear,
And shepherds only fay, The mines were here!
Should fome rich youth (if nature warm his heart,
And all his projects stand inform'd with art)

Belles war with beaux, and whims defcend for Here clear the caves, there ope the leading vein;

gods.

The new machines, in names of ridicule, Mock the grave frenzy of the chemic fool. But know, ye fair, a point conceal'd with art, The fylphs and gnomes are but a woman's heart: The graces ftand in fight; a fatyr train Peep o'er their heads, and laugh behind the scene. In Fame's fair temple, o'er the boldeft wits Infhrin'd on high the facred Virgil fits, And fits in measures, fuch as Virgil's mufe To place thee near him might be fond to choose. How might he tune th' alternate reed with thee, Perhaps a Strephon thou, a Daphnis he, While fome old Damon, o'er the vulgar wife, Thinks he deferves, and thou deferv'it, the prize, Rapt with the thought, my fancy feeks the plains, And turns me fhepherd while I hear the ftrains. Indulgent nurfe of every tender gale, Parent of flowerets, old Arcadia, hail! Here in the cool my limbs at ease I spread, Here let thy poplars whisper o'er my head,

The mines detected flame with gold again.
How vast, how copious, are thy new designs!
How every mufic varies in thy lines!
Still as I read, I feel my bofom beat,
Aud rife in raptures by another's heat.
Thus in the wood, when fummer drefs'd the days,
When Windfor lent us tuneful hours of ease,
Our ears the lark, the th: ufh, the turtle bleft;
And Philomela fweeteft o'er the reft:
The fhades refound with fong-O foftly tread!
While a whole season warbles round my head,

This to my friend and when a friend inspires,
My filent harp its mafter's hand requires,
Shakes off the dust, and makes thefe rocks refound,
For fortune piac'd me in unfertile ground,
Far from the joys that with my foul agree,
From wit, from learning,-far, oh far from thee!
Here mofs-grown trees expand the smallest leaf,
Here half an acre's corn is half a sheaf,
Here hills with naked heads the tempeft meet,
Rocks at their fide, and torrents at their feet,

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