And rather in the Dark to grope our Way,
Than led by a falfe Guide to err by Day?
Who fees thefe dismal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous Invader fackt the Land?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring
This Defolation, but a Chriftian King.
When nothing, but the Name of Zeal, appears
'Twixt our best Actions and the worst of theirs;
What does he think our Sacrilege wou'd fpare,
When fuch th' effects of our Devotions are?
Parting from thence 'twixt Anger, Shame and Fear,
Thofe for what's paft, and this for what's too near,
My Eye defcending from the Hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton Vallies ftrays.
Thames, the moft lov'd of all the Ocean's Sons
By his old Sire, to bis Embraces runs;
Hafting to pay his Tribute to the Sea,
Like mortal Life to meet Eternity.
Tho' with thofe Streams he no Refemblance hold,
Whole Foam is Amber, and their Gravel Gold;
His genuine and lefs guilty Wealth t' explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his fhore;
O'er which he kindly fpreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches Plenty for th' enfuing Spring.
Nor then deftroys it with too fond a Stay,
Like Mothers which their Infants overlay.
Nor with a fudden and impetuous Wave,
Like profufe Kings, refumes the Wealth he gave.
No unexpected Inundations spoil
The Mower's hopes, nor mock the Plowman's
But Godlike his unweary'd Bounty flows;
First loves to do, then loves the Good he does.
Nor are his Bleffings to his Banks confin'd,
But free, and common, as the Sea or Wind;
When he to boaft, or to difperle his Stores
Full of the Tributes of his grateful Shores,
Vifits the World, and in his flying Tow'rs
Brings home to us,
and makes both Indies
ours;
Denham. Finds Wealth where 'tis, bestows it where it wants,
Cities in Defarts, Woods in Cities plants.
So that to us no thing, no place is strange,
While his fair Bofom is the World's Exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy Stream
My great Example, as it is my Theme!
Though deep, yet clear; tho gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without Rage, without o'erflowing full!
Heav'n her Eridanus no more fhall boaft,
Whole Fame in thine, like leffer Currents loft;
Thy nobler Streams fhall vifit Jove's Abodes,
To fhine among the *) Stars, and bath the Gods,
Here Nature, whether more intent to please
Us or her felf, with ftrange Varieties,
(For Things of Wonder give no less Delight
To the wife Maker's, than Beholder's Sight.
Tho' thefe Delights from fev' al Caufes move;
For fo our Children, thus our Friends we love)
Wifely fhe knew, the Harmony of Things.
As well as that of Sounds, from Difcord fprings.
Such was the Difcord, which did firft difperfe
Form, Order, Beauty through the Univerfe;
While Drynefs Moisture, Coldness Heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts.
While the fteep horrid Roughness of the Wood
Strives with the gentle Calmnefs of the Flood,
Such huge Extreams when Nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence Delight.
The Stream is fo tranfparent, pure, and clear,
That had the Self-enamour'd **) Youth gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had not been,
While he the Bottom, not his Face had feen.
But his proud Head the airy Mountain hides
Among the Clouds; his Shoulders and his Sides
A fhady Mantle cloaths; his curled Brows
From on the gentle Stream, which calmly flows;
While Winds and Storms his lofty Forehead beat:
The common Fate of all that's high or great.
*) The Foreft. **) Narciffus.
Low at his Foot a spacious Plain is plac'd,
Between the Mountain and the Stream embrac'd:
Which hade and fhelter from the Hill derives,
While the kind River Wealth and Beaty gives;
And in the Mixture of all these appears
Variety, which all the reft indears.
This Scene had fome bold Greek, or British Bard
Beheld of old, what Stories had we heard
Of Fairies, Satyrs, and the Nymphs their Dames,
Their Feafts, their Revels and their am'rous Flames?
'Tis ftill the fame, altho' their airy Shape
All but a quick Poetick fight efcape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their Courts,
And thither all the horned host resorts
To graze the ranker Mead, that noble Herd,
On whofe fublime and fhady Fronts is rear'd
Nature's great Mafter piece; to fhew how foon
Great Things are made, but fooner are undone.
Here have I feen the King, when great Affairs
Gave leave to flacken, and unbend his Cares,
Attended to the Chafe by all the Flow'r
Of Youth, whofe Hopes a nobler Prey devour?
Pleasure with Praife, and Danger they would buy,
And wifh a Foe that would not only flie.
The Stag now confcious of his fatal Growth,
At once indulgent to his Fear and Sloth,
To fome dark Covert his Retreat had made,
Where nor Man's Eye, nor Heaven's fhould invade
His foft Repofe; when th' unexpected found
Of Dogs, and Men, his wakeful Ear does wound:
Rouz'd with the Noife, he icarce believes his Ear,
Willing to think th' Illufions of his Fear
Had giv'n this false Alarm, but straight his View
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true. .
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the Wood befet;
All Inftruments, all Arts of Ruin met;
He calls to mind his Strength, and then his Speed,
His winged Heels, and then his armed Head;
With thefe t' avoid, with that his Fate to meet:
But Fear prevails, and bids him trust his Feet.
Denham. So faft he fties, that his reviewing Eye
Has loft the Chafers, and his Ear the Cry;
Exulting, 'till he finds their nobler Senfe
Their difproportion'd Speed does recompenfe;
Then curfes his confpiring Feer, whofe Scent
Betrays that Safety which their Swiftness lent.
Then tries his Friends; among the bafer Herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd,
His Safety feeks: The Herd, unkindly wife,
Or chafes him from thence, or from him flies,
Like a declining Statesman, left forlorn
To his Friends Pity, and Purfuers fcorn,
With Shame remembers, while himself was one
Of the fame Herd, himfelf the fame had done.
Thence to the Coverts, and the confcious Groves,
The Scenes of his paft Triumphs, and his Loves;
Sadly furveying where he rang'd alone
Prince of the Soyl, and all the Herd his own;
And like a bold Knight Errant did proclaim
Combat to all, and bore away the Dame;
And taught the Woods to eccho to the Stream
His dreadful Challenge, and his clashing Beam.
Yet faintly now declines the fatal Strife;
So much his Love was dearer than his Life.
Now ev'ry Leaf, and ev'ry moving Breath
Prefents a Foe, and ev'ry Foe a Death.
Weary'd, forfaken, and purfu'd, at laft
All Safety in defpair of Safety plac'd,
Courage he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear
All their Affaults, fince 'tis in vain to fear.
And now too late he wif hes for the Fight
That Strength he wafted in ignoble Flight:
But when he fees the eager Chale renew'd,
Himself by Dogs, the Dogs by Men purfu'd:
He ftraight revokes his bold Refolve, and more
Repents his Courage, than his Fear before;
Finds that uncertain Ways unfafest are,
And Doubt a greater Mifchief than Despair
Then to the Stream, when neither Friends, nor
Nor Speed, nor Art avail, he fhapes his Courfe;
Thinks not their Rage fo defperate t' aflay
An Element more merciless than they.
But fearlefs they pursue, nor can the Flood
Quench their dire Thirft; alas, they thirst for
Blood.
So tow'rds a Ship the Oar fin'd Gallies ply,
Which wanting Sea to ride, or Wind to fly,
Stands but to fall reveng d on those that dare
Tempt the last Fury of extream Despair.
So fares the Stag, among th' enraged Hounds
Repels their Force, and Wounds returns Wounds.
And as a Hero, whom his bafer Foes
In Troops furround, now thefe affails, now those,
Though prodigal of Life, disdains to die
By common Hands; but if he can defcry.
Some nobler Foe approach, to him he calls,
And begs his Fate, and then contented falls.
So when the King a mortal Shaft lets flie
From his unerring Hand, then glad to die,
Proud of the Wound, to it refigns his Blood,
And ftains the Crystal with a Purple Flood.
This a more innocent, and happy Chafe,
Than when of old, but in the self fame place,
Fair Liberty purfu'd, *) and meant a Prey
To lawless Power, here turn'd, and stood at bay.
When in that Remedy all Hope was plac'd
Which was, or should have been at least, the last.
Here was that **) Charter feal'd, wherein the Crown
All Marks of Arbitrary Pow'r lays down:
Tyrant and Slave, thofe Names of Hate and Fear,
The happier Stile of King and Subject bear:
Happy, when both to the fame Center move,
When Kings give Liberty, and Subjects Love.
Therefore not long in force this Charter stood;
Wanting that Seal, it must be feal'd in Blood.
*) Runny Mead, where that great Charter was first seal
**) Magna Charta.
Beisp..Samml. 3. B. ́ ̄
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