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,
Reluctantly I bid thee: for my soul

Holds dear an antient oak, nothing more dear;
It is an antient friend. Stay then thine hand;
And try by saplings tall, discreetly plac'd
Before, between, behind, in scatter'd groups,
To break the obdurate line. So mayst thou save'
A chosen few; and yet, alas, but few

Of these, the old protectors of the plain.
Yet shall these few give to thy opening lawn
That shadowy pomp, which only they can give :
For parted now, in patriarchal pride,

Each tree becomes the father of a tribe;

And, o'er the stripling foliage, rising round,
Towers with parental dignity supreme.
Book i. 1. 333.

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
N'entendent plus le Barde et ses affreux cantiques;
Un délire plus doux habite vos déserts;

Et vos antres encore nous instruisent en vers.
Vous inspirez les miens, ombres majestueuses!
Souffrez donc qu'aujourd'hui mes mains respec-

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 :
Là, de quelques rayons égayant ce séjour,
Formez un doux combat de la nuit et du jour.
Plus loin, marquant le sol de leurs feuilles légères,
Quelques arbres épars jouerent dans les clairières,
Et flottant l'un vers l'autre, et n'osant se toucher,
Paroîtront à la fois se fuir et se chercher.
Ainsi le bois par vous perd sa rudesse austère:
Mais n'en détruisez pas le grave caractère.
De détails trop fréquens, d'objets minutieux,
N'allez pas découper son ensemble à nos yeux.

Qu'il soit un, simple et grand, et que votre art lui

laisse,

Avec toute sa pompe, un peu de sa rudesse.
Montrez ces troncs brisés; je veux de noirs torrens
Dans les creux des ravins suivre les flots errans.
Du tems, des eaux, de l'air n'effacez point la trace,
De ces rochers pendans respectez la menace,
Et qu'enfin dans ces lieux empreints de majesté
Tout respire une mâle et sauvage beauté.

Chant 2.

Hail holy haunts! no more your vaults among
The wild-eyed bard resounds his hideous song;
Now 'mid your caves a milder spirit dwells,
And inspiration breathes from all your cells;
Majestic groves! you now exalt his strain,
Whose hands shall ne'er your sacred gloom profane,
From you with reverence he'll learn to trace
The strong expression that your shades may grace.
Unnumber'd aspects may the forest own;
Here the thick trunks the gloomy bow'rs imbrown.
There glances thro' the shade a smiling ray,
And doubtful darkness strives with glimm'ring day.
A shower of silv'ry light there strews the ground,
While the leaves fling a trembling shade around.
Now waving trees with sportive summits meet,
Now from each other coyly they retreat.

Thus shall the forest lose its frown severe,
But, ah! its solemn sacred gloom revere !
Let no weak parts the mighty whole destroy,
Nor the tir'd eyes with idle objects cloy.
Let it be one; a plain majestic scene;

And Nature grand and wild at once be seen!
Let time-worn trunks there frown, their thund'ring

roar

Thro' the rent rocks let headlong torrents pour;
Of time, the storms, and floods each scar retain;
Respect those rocks whose horrors threat the plain;
And o'er the whole in all his savage pow'r,

Still let the bold majestic Genius low'r !
Such is the simple grandeur Nature loves,
And ever true to Nature, Taste approves.

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