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NOTES AND OBSERVATIONS.

ON THE PASTORALS.

PASTORAL I. P. 61. Ver. 1.

First in these fields I try the fylvan strains,

Nor blush to sport on Windfor's blissful plains. Our Poet seems to have consulted Dryden's version of the place imitated here, Virg. Eçl. vi. Į.

I first transferr'd to Rome Sicilian strains :

Nor blusb'd the Doric Muse to dwell on Mantuan plains. Roscommon also, a terse, judicious, unaffected, and moral writer, juftly esteemed and celebrated by Pope, may be agreeably compared on this occasion :

I first of Romans stoop'd to rural strains,
Nor blush'd to dwell among Sicilian swains.

Ver. 5. Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play.
A beautiful paffage of this kind occurs in Paradise Regain'd, üi. 26.

Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek,
Where winds with reeds and ofiers whisp’ring play-

Ver. 7.

go :

too good for pow'r. A passage in Lụcan, viii. 493. is very apposite to this sentiment :

exeat aulâ,
Qui vult effe piys. Virtus et summa poteftas
Non coëunt.
He, who would spotless live, from courts must

No union power supreme and virtue know.
Ver. 23. Hear how the birds, on ev'ry bloomy spray,

With joyous music wake the dawning day!
Surry, in his Sonnet on Spring :
Somer is come, for every spray now springes.

Millon,

Millon, Paradise Regain’d, iv. 437. in most delicate strains of the
Doric Muse:

- the birds
Clear'd up their choiceft notes in bush and spray,

To gratulate the sweet return of morn.
And in his first sonnet, which Pope certainly had in view :

O! Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray

Warbleft at eve! Some lines in Broome's Paraphrafe of Job xxxix. on a congenial subject, will be acceptable to the reader, who delights in the fragrance

of these blossoms of the Muses :
By thy command does fair Aurora rise,
And gild with purple beams the blushing skies?
The warbling lark salutes her chearful ray,
And welcomes with his song the rising day.

Ver. 25. Why fit we mute, when early linnets fing;

When warbling Philomel falutes the spring ? He is indebted here to Waller's Chloris and Hylas; a passage, pointed out also by Mr. White;

Hylas, oh Hylas! wby fit we mute,
Now that each bird faluteth the spring ?

Ver. 35

where wanton ivy twines, And swelling clusters bend the curling vines. Dryden, in his State of Innocence, A& iii. Scene 1.

And creeping 'twixt 'em all, the mantling vine
Does round their trunks her purple clusters twine.

Ver. 37. Four figures rising from the work appear. So Dryden, Æn. viii. 830.

And Roman triumphs rising on the gold.

Ver. 62. And trees weep amber on the banks of Po. This sweet line is indebted, perhaps, to Milton, Par. Loft, iv. 248. Groves, whose rich trees wept

odorous gums

and balm. The classical reader will thank me for producing fome elegant verses of Marius Vi&or, an author but little known, from his de. fcription of Paradise :

quod

quod Medus redolet, vel crine soluto
Fragrat Achæmenius, quod molli dives amomo
Affyrius, meffifque rubens Mareotica nardo.
Quod Tartesliaci frutices, quod virga Sabai,
Quodque Palæstinus lacero flet vulnere ramus.

Ver. 73. All nature laughs; the groves are fresh and fair. It stood in the first edition, and, I think, as well :

All nature laughs; the groves fresh honours wear.
It is probable, that our author had in view some lines of the true
Doric delicacy and most unaffected tenderness ja Dryden's State
of Innocence, Act v. Scene 1. where Adam thus addresses Eve ;

What joy, without your fight, has earth in store ?
While you were absent, Eden was no more.
Winds murmur'd through the leaves your long delay,
And fountains o'er the pebbles chid your stay.
But, with your presence cheer'd, they cease to mourn,
And walks wear fresher green at your return.

PASTORAL II. P. 73.
Ver. 45. Oh! were I made, by some transforming pow'r,

The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r.
Romeo and Juliet :
I would I were thy bird.

STEEVENS. A similar wish occurs in Ovid, Met. viii. 51.

O! ego ter felix, fi pennis lapsa per auras Gnoffiaci poflim caftris infiftere regis. Oh! had I wings to glide along the air ! To his dear tent l’d fly, and settle there. CROXALL. Ver. 69. Here bees from blossoms fip the rofy dew. Milton, in his Penseroso :

And every herb, that hps the dew.

PASTORAL III. P. 82.
Ver. 30. Say, is not absence death to those who love?
This whole passage is imitated from Sir Philip Sydney's Arcadia,
Book iii. p: 712. 8vo edition :
Earth, brook, flow'rs, pipe, lamb, dove,

Say all, and I with them,
Absence is death, or worse, to them that love.

Ver. 37. Let op'ning roses knotted oaks adorn,

And liquid amber drop from every thorn. Bowles, in his translation of Theocritus, Idyll. v. affifted our bard:

On brambles now let violets be born,

And op’ning roses blush on every thorn. Ogilby's line at the original passage in Virgil, is very pleasing and melodious: And purest amber flow from

every tree.

Ver. 43. Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty swain,

Not balmy sleep to lab’rers faint with pain,
Not fhow'rs to larks, or sun-fhine to the bee,

Are half so charming as thy fight to me.
With these polished lines a paffage in Drummond's Wandering
Mules (pointed out also by Mr. Steevens) my be very agreeably
compared :

To virgins, flow'rs; to sun-burnt earth, the rain ;
To mariners, fair winds, amidit the main ;
Cool shades to pilgrims, whom hot glances burn,

Are not so pleating as thy blett return.
Ver. 89. I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred ;

Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage tigers fed. Not unlike Stafford's version of the original in Dryden's Milcellanies,

I know thee, Love! on mountains thou was bred,

And Thracian rocks thy infant fury fed.
The passage ran thus in our Poet's first edition :

I know thee, Love! wild as the raging main ;
More fell than tigers on the Lybian plain.

PASTORAL IV. P. 90.

Ver 39. The filver swans her hapless fate bemoan,

In notes more fad than when they fing their own. The hinc of this turn was derived from a verse in Philips's Pastorals, where the circumitances of the case render it ridiculous :

Ye brighter maids, faint emblems of my fair,
With looks cast down, and with disheveld hair,
In bitter anguish beat your breasts, and moan
Her death untimely as it were your own.

THE

THE MESSIAH. P. 105.

Ver. 5.

O thou my voice inspire, Who touchd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire ! Milton had already made the same allufion to Isaiah, vi. 7. at. the clofe of his Hymn on the Nativity:

And join thy voice unto the angel quire,

From out his sacred altar touch'd with hallow'd fire. Cowley also, David. i. 25. admits comparison :

Ev'n thou my brealt with such bleft rage inspire,

As mov'd the tuneful strings of David's lyre. But a noble passage in Millon's Reason of Church Government is still more appofite; By devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit, rs who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends « out his Seraphim, with the hallow'd fire of his altar, to touch " and purify the lips of whom he pleases."

Ver 22. Oh spring to light, auspicious babe! be born. This seems a palpable imitation of Callimachus, but where our Poet fell upon it, I cannot discover : Hymn. Del 214.

Γενεο, γεις , καρε" και ηπιό, εξιθι κολπα.

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the visual ray.

Ver. 39. He from thick films shall

purge Thus Milton, Par. Loft, iji. 620.

and th' air,
No where so clear, sharpen’d his visual ray

To objects distant far:
and in his Samson Agonistes, ver. 162.

For inward light alas !
Puts forth no visual beam.

Ver. 99. No more the rising sun shall gild the morn,

Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her filver horn. There is a general resemblance in these charming lines to the beginning of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and Sandys's excellent transla. tion there :

Nullus adhuc mundo præbebat lumina Titan,
Nec nova crescendo reparabat cornua Phæbe.

No

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