Have pair'd for centuries, and heard the strains Of SIDNEYS, nay, perchance, of SURRY's reed, pauses, as he might justly do, with deep reluctance over the sentence, and partially rescinds it, indeed, in the following beautiful lines, whose resemblance to the terminating couplets of the quotation from De Lille, cannot but be considered as very striking. The English bard, after lamenting the failure of every other plan to break the formal line, calls for the axe, yet adds as he does it, Trust me, tho' I bid thee strike, Holds dear an antient oak, nothing more dear; Of these, the old protectors of the plain. Each tree becomes the father of a tribe; And, o'er the stripling foliage, rising round, Having adduced this specimen of the manner in which our anonymous translator has kept pace with the didactic spirit of his author, I now hasten with renewed pleasure to resume that series of quotations whose object is to prove with what occasional felicity the more vigorous and imaginative parts of the French poem have been sustained. The passage, indeed, which I am about to produce is (with the exception of two or three comparatively weak lines) one of that number which, in my opinion, has not only rivalled, but surpassed the original in the energy of its versification, and the poetical tone of its expression. The Gallic bard has been giving directions for the formation of groups, and he then proceeds to shew, how far even woods and forests can be indebted to the judicious interference of art, employed, as it may be, to diversify their aspects and to soften their more rugged features, without, at the same time, breaking in upon the unity and simple grandeur of their scenery. The subject opens with a forcible and highly-animated apostrophe. Bois augustes, salut! Vos voûtes poétiques Et vos antres encore nous instruisent en vers. tueuses Viennent vous embellir, mais sans vous profaner; C'est de vous que je veux apprendre à vous orner. Les bois peuvent s'offrir sous des aspects sans nombre: Ici des troncs pressés rembruniront leur ombre : Qu'il soit un, simple et grand, et que votre art lui laisse, Avec toute sa pompe, un peu de sa rudesse. Chant 2. Hail holy haunts! no more your vaults among Thus shall the forest lose its frown severe, And Nature grand and wild at once be seen! roar Thro' the rent rocks let headlong torrents pour; Still let the bold majestic Genius low'r ! Shortly after this passage the author makes a transition to the wanton havoc and desolation which luxury and extravagance have so frequently and so extensively wrought amongst the groves and woods of a once rich and picturesque domain, unmindful of the tardy operations of time, and forgetting that neither wealth nor power can anticipate the work of nature, and revive at will the violated shade. He more particularly points his invective against the |