VIRG.

THY forests, Windfor! and thy green retreats, At once the monarch's and the mufe's feats, Invite my lays. Be prefent, Sylvan maids! Unlock your fprings, and open all your shades. Granville commands; your aid, O mufes, bring! What mufe for Granville can refuse to fing?

10

The groves of Eden, vanish'd now fo long, Live in description, and look green in fong; Thefe, were my breaft infpir'd with equal flame, Like them in beauty, fhould be like in fame, Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Here earth and water seem to strive again; Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd, But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd; Where order in variety we fee,

And where, though all things differ, all agree. Here waving groves a chequer'd fcene difplay, And part admit, and part exclude the day;

20

As fome coy nymph her lover's warm addrefs
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite reprefs.
There, interfpers'd in lawns and opening glades,
Thin trees arife that fhun each other's fhades.
Here in full light the ruffet plains extend;
There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills afcend.
Ev'n the wild heath difplays her purple dies,
And 'midft the defert, fruitful fields arife, [corn,
That, crown'd with tufted trees and fpringing
Like verdant ifles the fable wafte adorn.
Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber, or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms conimanded which thofe trees adorn.
Nor proud Olympus yields a nobler fight,
Though gods affembled grace his towering height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here,
Where, in their bleffings, all thofe gods appear.

30

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 3, &c. Originally thus:

Chafte goddess of the woods,

Nymphs of the vales, and Naiads of the floods, Lead me through arching bow'rs, and glimm'ring glades,

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 25. Originally thus:

Why should I fing our better funs or air,
Whofe vital draughts prevent the leach's care,
While through fresh fields th' enliv'ning odours
breathe,

THY forests, Windsor and thy green retreats, At once the monarch's and the mufe's feats, Invite my lays. Be prefent, Sylvan maids! Unlock your fprings, and open all your fhades. Granville commands; your aid, O mufes, bring! What muse for Granville can refuse to fing?

The groves of Eden, vanish'd now fo long, Live in defcription, and look green in fong; Thefe, were my breaft infpir'd with equal flame, Like them in beauty, fhould be like in fame, Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Here earth and water feem to ftrive again; Not chaos-like together crush'd and bruis'd, But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd; Where order in variety we fee,

And where, though all things differ, all agree. Here waving groves a chequer'd scene difplay, And part admit, and part exclude the day;

20

As fome coy nymph her lover's warm addrefs
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite reprefs.
There, interfpers'd in lawns and opening glades,
Thin trees arife that fhun each other's fhades.
Here in full light the ruffet plains extend;
There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills afcend.
Ev'n the wild heath difplays her purple dies,
And 'midit the defert, fruitful fields arife, [corn,
That, crown'd with tufted trees and springing
Like verdant ifles the fable waste adorn.
Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber, or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms commanded which thofe trees adorn.
Nor proud Olympus yields a nobler fight,
Though gods affembled grace his towering height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here,
Where, in their bleffings, all those gods appear.

30

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 3, &c. Originally thus:

Chafte goddess of the woods,

Nymphs of the vales, and Naiads of the floods, Lead me through arching bow'rs, and glimm'ring glades,

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 25. Originally thus:

Why should I fing our better funs or air,
Whofe vital draughts prevent the leach's care,
While through fresh fields th' enliv'ning odours
breathe,

See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd
Here blushing Flora paints th' enamell'd ground,
Here Ceres' gifts in waving profpect ftand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand; 40
Rich Industry fits fmiling on the plains,
And peace and plenty tell, a Stuart reigns.
Not thus the land appear'd in ages past,
A dreary defert, and a gloomy waste,
To favage beafts and favage laws a prey,
And kings more furious and severe than they;
Who claim'd the fkies, difpeopled air and floods,
The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods:
Cities laid wafte, they storm'd the dens and caves
(For wifer brutes were backward to be flaves). so
What could be free, when lawless beafts obey'd,
And ev'n the elements a tyrant fway'd?
In vain kind feafons fwell'd the teeming grain,
Soft fhowers diftill'd, and funs grew warm in vain ;
The fwain with tears his fruftrate labour yields,
And famifh'd dies amidst his ripen'd fields.
What wonder then, a beaft or fubject flain
Were equal crimes in a defpotic reign?
Both doom'd alike for fportive tyrants bled,
But, while the fubject ftarv'd, the beaft was fed.
Proud Nimrod first the bloody chace began, 61
A mighty hunter, and his prey was man :
Our haughty Norman boasts that barbarous name,
And makes his trembling flaves the royal game.
The fields are ravifh'd from th industrious
fwains,

70

From men their cities, and from gods their fanes :
The levell'd towns with weeds lie cover'd o'er;
The hollow winds through naked temples roar;
Round broken columns clafping ivy twin'd;
O'er heaps of ruin stalk'd the stately hind;
The fox obícene to gaping tombs retires,
And favage howlings fill the facred quires.
Aw'd by his nobles, by his commons curft,
Th' Oppreffor rul'u̸ tyrannic where he durft,
Stretch'd o'er the poor and church his iron rod,
And ferv'd alike his vaffals and his God.
Whom ev'n the Saxon fpar'd, and bloody Dane,
The wanton victims of his sport remain.
But fee, the man who fpacious regions gave
A waste for beafts, himfelf deny'd a grave!

8.

Stretch'd on the lawn his fecond hope furvey,
At once the chacer, and at once the prey :
Lo! Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart,
Bleeds in the foreft like a wounded hart.
Succeeding monarchs heard the subjects cries,
Nor faw difpleas'd the peaceful cottage rife.
Then gathering flocks on unknown mountains fed,
O'er fandy wilds were yellow harvests spread,
The forests wonder'd at th' unusual grain,
And fecret transport touch'd the conicious fwain.
Fair Liberty, Britannia's goddess, rears
Her cheerful head, and leads the golden years.
Ye vigorous fwains! while youth ferments your
blood,

And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood,
Now range the hills, the gameful woods befet,
Wind the fhrill horn, or spread the waving net.
When milder autumn fummer's heat fucceeds,
And in the new-fhorn field the partridge feeds;
Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds,
Panting with hope, hetriesthefurrow'dgrounds;IC■
But when the tainted gales the game betray,
Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey :
Secure the truft th' unfaithful field befet,
Till hovering o'er them fweeps the fwelling net.
Thus (if fmall things we may with great compare)
When Albion fends her eager fons to war,
Some thoughtlefs town, with ease and plenty bleft,
Near and more near, the clofing lines invest,
Sudden they feize th' amaz'd defenceless prize,
And high in air Britannia's ftandard flies.
See! from the brake the whirring pheasant
fprings,

To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair,
And trace the mazes of the circling hare
(Beafts, urg'd by us, their fellow beafts pursue,
And learn of man each other to undo):
With flaughtering guns th' unweary'd fowler roves,
When frofts have whiten'd all the naked groves;
Where doves in flocks the leaflefs trees o'erfhade,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the watery glade.
He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye;
Strait a fhort thunder breaks the frozen fky: 130
Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath,
The clamorous lapwings feels the leaden death;
Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

In genial spring, beneath the quivering fhade,
Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead,
The patient fisher takes his filent stand,
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand :
With looks unmov'd, he hopes the scaly breed,
And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed, 140
Our plenteous ftreams a various race fupply,
The bright-ey'd perch with fins of Tyrian dye,
The filver eel, in fhining volumes roli'd,
The yellow carp, in fcales bedropp'd with gold,
Swift trouts, diversify'd with crimson stains,
And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains.

Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car: The youth rush eager to the Sylvan war, Swarm o'er the lawns, the foreft walks furround, Rouze the fleet hart, and cheer the opening hound.

150

Th' impatient courfer pants in every vein,
And, pawing, feems to beat the distant plain :
Hills, vales, and floods, appear already cross'd,
And, ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost.
See the bold youth strain up the threat'ning steep,
Rush through the thickets, down the vallies fweep,
Hang o'er their courfers heads with eager speed,
And earth rolls back beneath the flying steed.
Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain,
Th' immortal huntress, and her virgin-train; 160
Nor envy, Windfor! fince thy fhades have feen
As bright a goddess, and as chaîte a queen;
Whofe care, like her's, protects the Sylvan reign,
The earth's fair light, and emprefs of the main.
Here, too, 'tis fang, of old Diana stray'd,
And Cynthus top forfook for Windsor shade;
Here was the feen o'er airy wastes to rove,
Seek the clear fpring, or haunt the pathlefs
grove;

170

Here arm'd with filver bows, in early dawn, Her baskin'd virgins trac'd the dewy lawn. Above the reft a rural nymph was fam'd, Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona nam'd (Lodona's fate, in long oblivion cast,

The mufe fhall fing, and what the fings fhall laft).

VARIATIONS. Ver. 126.

O'er ruffling leaves around the naked groves.

Ver. 129.

Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be known,

But by the crefcent and the golden zone.
She fcorn'd the praife of beauty, and the care;
A belt her waift, a fillet binds her hair;
A painted quiver on her fhoulder founds,
And with her dart the flying deer the wounds. 180
It chanc'd, as, eager of the chace, the maid
Beyond the foreft's yerdant limits ftray'd,
Pan faw and lov'd, and burning with defire
Purfu'd her flight; her flight increas'd his fire.
Not half fo fwift the trembling doves can fly,
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid fky;
Not half fo fwiftly the fierce eagle moves,
When through the clouds he drives the trembling
doves;

As from the god fhe flew with furious pace,
Or as the god, more furious, urg'd the chace. 199
Now fainting, finking, pale, the nymph appears;
Now close behind, his founding fteps the hears;
And now his fhadow reach'd her as the run,
His fhadow lengthen'd by the fetting fun;
And now his shorter breath, with fultry air,
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on father Thames fhe calls for aid,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathless, thus fhe pray'd, nor pray'd ią
vain ;

"Ah, Cynthia! ah-though banish'd from thy "train,

200

"Let me, O let me, to the fhades repair,
"My native fhades!-there weep and murmur
"there!"

She faid, and, melting as in tears she lay,
In a foft filver ftream diffolv'd away.
The filver ftream her virgin coldness keeps,
For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps;
Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore,
And bathes the foreft where fhe rang'd before.
In her chafte current oft the goddess laves,
And with celeftial tears augments the waves. 210
Oft in her glafs the mufing fhepherd spies
The headlong mountains and the downward fkies,
The watery landskip of the pendant woods,
And abfent trees that tremble in the floods;
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are feen,
And floating forefts paint the waves with green;
Through the fair fcene roll flow the lingering
ftreams,

Then foaming pour along, and rush unto the
Thames.

Thou, too, great father of the British floods!
With joyful pride furvey'ft our lofty woods; 220
Where towering oaks their growing honours rear,
And future navies on thy fhores appear.

Not Neptune's felf from all her ftreams receives
A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
No feas fo rich, fo gay no banks appear,
No lake fo gentle, and no fpring fo clear.
Nor Po fo fwells the fabling poet's lays,
While led along the fkies his current trays,
As thine, which vifits Windfor's fam'd abodes,
To grace the manfion of our earthly gods:
Nor all his fars above a luftre fhow,

230