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A painted quiver on her fhoulder founds,
And with her dart the flying deer fhe wounds.
It chanc'd, as eager of the chace, the maid
Beyond the foreft's verdant limits stray'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, 185
When thro' 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.
Now fainting, finking, pale, the nymph appears;
Now close behind, his founding steps fhe hears;
And now his fhadow reach'd her as fhe run, 191
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.


VER. 183, 186.

Ut fugere accipitrem penna trepidante columbæ,
Ut folet accipiter trepidas agitare columbas.
VER. 191, 194.

Sol erat a tergo: vidi præcedere longam
Ante pedes umbram: nifi fi timor illa videbat.
Sed certe fonituque pedum terrebar; et ingens
Crinales vittas amabat anhelitus oris.



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In vain on father Thames the calls for aid, 195 Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid. Faint, breathless, thus fhe pray'd, nor pray'd in vain; "Ah Cynthia! ah--- tho' banish'd from thy train, “Let me, O let me, to the shades repair,



My native shades--there weep,and murmur there.
She faid, and melting as in tears she lay,
In a soft, filver stream 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, 205
And bathes the foreft where the rang'd before.

In her chafte current oft the Goddess laves,
And with celeftial tears augments the waves.
Oft in her glass the mufing fhepherd spies
The headlong mountains and the downward skies,
The wat'ry landskip of the pendant woods, 211
And abfent trees that tremble in the floods;

In the clear azure gleam the flocks are seen,
And floating forests paint the waves with green


VER. 205. Still bears the name] The River L VER. 209. Oft in her glafs, etc.] These fix after the first writing of this poem. P.

Thro' the fair scene roll flow the ling'ring ftreams, Then foaming pour along,and rush into the Thames.


Thou too, great father of the British floods! With joyful pride furvey'ft our lofty woods; Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours rear, And future navies on thy fhores appear, Not Neptune's felf from all her streams 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 skies his current strays, As thine, which vifits Windfor's fam'd abodes, To grace the manfion of our earthly Gods: Nor all his ftars above a luftre show,

Like the bright beauties on thy banks below; 230
Where Jove, fubdu'd by mortal paffion still,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill,


VER. 233.

Happy the man, who to the fhades retires,
But doubly happy, if the Muse inspires!
Bleft whom the sweets of home-felt quiet please;

But far more bleft, who ftudy joins with ease. VER. 231. It flood thus in the MS.


And force great Jove, if Jove's a lover still,
To change Olympus, etc.


Stream Happy the man whom this bright Court approves,
The His Sov'reign favours, and his country loves:
Hood! Happy next him, who to these shades retires, 235
Whom Nature charms,and whom the Muse inspires:
ours Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet please,
Succeffive ftudy, exercise, and ease.


He gathers health from herbs the forest yields,
And of their fragrant phyfic spoils the fields: 240
With chemic art exalts the min'ral pow'rs,
And draws the aromatic fouls of flow'rs:
Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high;
O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye;
Of ancient writ unlocks the learned ftore,
Confults the dead, and lives paft ages o'er:
Or wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood,
Attends the duties of the wife and good,
T'observe a mean, be to himself a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end;
Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal
Bids his free foul expatiate in the skies,
Amid her kindred stars familiar roam,
Survey the region, and confefs her home!





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VER. 249, 50. Servare modum finemque tenere,

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Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd, 255 Thus Atticus, and TRUMBAL thus retir'd.

Ye facred Nine! that all my foul poffefs, Whofe raptures fire me, and whofe vifions blefs, Bear me, oh bear me to fequefter'd scenes, The bow'ry mazes, and furrounding greens: 260 To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Mufes fport on COOPER'S HILL. (On COOPER'S HILL eternal wreaths shall grow, While lafts the mountain, or while Thames fhall flow)

I feem thro' confecrated walks to rove,


I hear foft mufic die along the grove;
Led by the found, I roam from shade to fhade,
By god-like Poets venerable made:*

Here his first lays majestic DENHAM fung;

There the laft numbers flow'd from CowLEY'S



VER. 265. It stood thus in the MS.

Methinks around your holy fcenes I rove,

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And hear your mufic echoing thro' the grove:

With transport vifit each inspiring fhade

By God-like Poets venerable made.


VER. 270. There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue] Mr. Cowley died at Chertfey, on the borders of the foreft, and was from thence convey'd to Westminster. P.


IMITATIONS. VER. 259. O qui me gelidis, etc.

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