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While lab'ring oxen, spent with toil and heat,
In their loofe traces from the field retreat :
While curling fmoaks from village-tops are seen,
And the fleet shades glide o'er the dusky green.
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! 65
Beneath yon' poplar oft we past the day:

Oft' on the rind I carv'd her am'rous vows,
While fhe with garlands hung the bending boughs ;
The garlands fade, the vows are worn away;
So dies her love, and fo my hopes decay.

70

Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strain! Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain, Now golden fruits on loaded branches fhine, And grateful clusters fwell with floods of wine; Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove; Juft Gods! fhall all things yield returns but love? Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! Thy flocks are left a prey❞—

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The fhepherds cry,
Ah! what avails it me, the flocks to keep,

Who lost my heart while I preferv'd my sheep.

75

80

Pan

REMARKS.

VER. 68. While fhe with garlands hung the bending bows:] This line forcibly recalls the beautiful defcription of the "Poor Ophelia."

There with fantastic garlands did she come,
Of crow-flow'rs, nettles, daifies, and long-purples;
There on the pendant weeds, her coronet weeds,
Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke.

STEVENS.

Pan came, and afk'd, what magic caus'd

my fmart, Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart? What eyes but hers, alas, have pow'r to move! And is there magic but what dwells in love!

84

90

Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strains! I'll fly from fhepherds, flocks, and flow'ry plains, From fhepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forfake mankind, and all the world—but love! I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred, Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage tigers fed. Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born! Refound, ye hills refound my mournful lay! Farewel, ye woods, adieu the light of day! One leap from yonder cliff fhall end my pains, No more, ye hills, no more refound my strains! Thus fung the fhepherds till th' approach of night, The skies yet blushing with departing light,

REMARKS.

95

When

VER. 82. dart?] It should be darted; the present tense is used for the fake of the rhyme.

WARTON.

VER. 97. Thus fung] Among the multitude of English Poets who wrote Paftorals, Fairfax, to whom our Verfification is thought to be so much indebted, ought to be mentioned. He wrote ten

IMITATIONS,

VER. 82. Or what ill eyes]

or

P.

"Nefcio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos.” VER. 89. "Nunc fcio quid fit Amor : duris in cotibus illum,”

&c.

P.

This from Virgil is much inferior to the paffage in Theocritus, from whence it is taken. WARTON.

3

When falling dews with fpangles deck'd the glade, And the low fun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.

REMARKS.

100

or twelve Eclogues after the acceffion of James I. They were like thofe of Mantuan and Spenfer, allegorical, and alluded to the manners and characters of the times, and contained many fatyrical ftrokes against the King and his Court. They were loft in the fire that confumed the Banquetting Houfe at Whitehall; but it is faid that Mr. W. Fairfax, his fon, recovered them from his father's papers; the fourth of them was published by Mrs. Cooper in the Mufes Library, 1737. WARTON.

I wonder Dr. Warton fhould have omitted Browne's Britannia's Paftorals, an almoft forgotten work, but containing fome images of rural beauty which Milton did not disdain fometimes to See T. Warton's edition of Milton's fmaller poems, copy. page 53.

VER. 98. 100.] There is a little inaccuracy here; the first line makes the time after fun-fet; the fecond, before.

WARBURTON.

WINTER:

THE FOURTH PASTORAL,

OR

DAPHNE.

TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. TEMPEST.

LYCIDAS.

THYRSIS, the mufic of that murmʼring spring
Is not fo mournful as the ftrains you fing;
Nor rivers winding through the vales below,
So fweetly warble, or so smoothly flow.

now

REMARKS.

WINTER.] This was the Poet's favourite Paftoral.

Mrs. Tempeft.] This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkfhire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh*, who having celebrated her in a Paftoral Elegy, defired his friend to do the fame, as appears from one of his Letters, dated Sept.

IMITATIONS.

VER. 1. Thirfis, the mufic, &c.] Adu T, &c. Theocr. Id. i.

* On lately reading Mr. Walsh's Preface to Dryden's tranflation of Virgil's Eclogues, I was convinced he had a greater fhare of learning than he is ufually allowed to poffefs. His strictures on the French language and manners, and on Fontenelle's affected and unnatural Eclogues, as well as on his vain attempt to depreciate the Ancients, are very folid and judicious. To what he has faid of Virgil may be added, that one of the most natural ftrokes in all his Eclogues, is the fhepherd's reckoning his years by the fucceffion of his loves;

Poftquam nos Amaryllis habetThis paftoral chronology is much in character.

Now fleeping flocks on their foft fleeces lie,
The moon, ferene in glory, mounts the sky,
While filent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Oh fing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praise !

THYRSIS.

Behold the groves that fhine with filver froft,
Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure loft.
Here fhall I try the sweet Alexis' strain,

That call'd the lift'ning Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving fong.

LYCID A S.

So
may kind rains their vital moisture yield,
And fwell the future harvest of the field.

Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
And faid, "Ye fhepherds fing around my grave!"
Sing, while befide the fhaded tomb I mourn,
And with fresh bays her rural fhrine adorn.

5

10

15

20

Ye

REMARKS.

Sept. 9, 1706. "Your laft Eclogue being on the fame fubject with mine, on Mrs. Tempest's death, I should take it very kindly in you to give it a little turn, as if it were to the memory of the fame lady." Her death having happened on the night of the great storm in 1703, gave a propriety to this Eclogue, which in its general turn alludes to it. The scene of the Paftoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight. POPE.

I do not find any lines that allude to the great storm of which the Poet speaks.

VER. 13. Thames heard, &c.]

WARTON.

IMITATIONS.

"Audiit Eurotas, juffitque edifcere lauros."

Virg. P.

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