The bleating sheep with my complaints agree,
They parch'd with heat, and I inflam'd by thee. 20
The sultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains,
While in thy heart eternal winter reigns.

Where stray ye, Muses, in what lawn or grove,
While your Alexis pines in hopeless love?
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
As in the crystal spring I view my face,
Fresh rising blushes paint the wat'ry glass;

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 27. Oft in the crystal spring I cast a view,
And equal'd Hylas, if the glass be true;
But since those graces meet my eyes no more,
I shun, &c.

REMARKS.

P.

25

Ver. 27. As in the] This is one of those passages in which Virgil, by too closely copying Theocritus, has violated propriety; and not attended to the different characters of Cyclops and Corydon. The sea, which is a proper looking-glass for the gigantic son of Neptune, who also constantly dwelt on the shore, was certainly not equally adapted to the face of the little Land-shepherd. The same may be said of the cheese and milk, and numerous herds of Polypheme, exactly suited to his Sicilian situation, and the rude and savage state of the speaker, whose character is admirably supported through the whole eleventh Idyllium of Theocritus.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 23. Where stray ye, Muses, &c.]

"Quæ nemora, aut qui vos saltus habuere, puellæ
Naïdes, indigno quum Gallus amore periret?

Nam

neque Parnasi vobis juga, nam neque Pindi Ulla moram fecere, neque Aonie Aganippe."

Virg. out of Theocr.

P.

Ver. 27. Virgil again, from the Cyclops of Theocritus,

"nuper me in litore vidi,

Quum placidum ventis staret mare; non ego Daphnin,
Judice te, metuam, si nunquam fallat imago."

P.

30

35

But since those graces please thy eyes no more,
I shun the fountains which I sought before.
Once I was skill'd in ev'ry herb that grew,
And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew;
Ah wretched shepherd, what avails thy art,
To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart!
Let other swains attend the rural care,
Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces sheer :
But nigh yon' mountain let me tune my lays,
Embrace my Love, and bind my brows with bays.
That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath
Inspir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death: 40
He said; Alexis, take this pipe, the same

That taught the groves my Rosalinda's name:

REMARKS.

Ver. 35, 36. care,] The only faulty rhymes, care and sheer, perhaps in these poems, where versification is in general so exact and correct.

Ver. 39. Colin] The name taken by Spenser in his Eclogues, where his mistress is celebrated under that of Rosalinda.

P.

Ver. 42. Rosalinda's] This is the lady with whom Spenser fell violently in love, as soon as he left Cambridge and went into the north; it is uncertain into what family, and in what capacity. Her name is an Anagram, and the letters of which it is composed will make out her true name; for Spenser (says the learned and ingenious Mr. Upton, his best Editor) is an Anagrammatist in many of his names: thus Algrind transposed is Archbishop Grindal; and Morrel is Bishop Elmer. He is supposed to hint at the cruelty and coquetry of his Rosalind in B. 6. of the Fairy Queen, in the character of Mirabella.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 40. bequeath'd in death, &c.] Virg. Ecl. ii.
"Est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutis
Fistula, Damotas dono mihi quam dedit olim,
Et dixit moriens, Te nunc habet ista secundum."

P.

But now the reeds shall hang on yonder tree,

For ever silent, since despis'd by thee.

Oh! were I made by some transforming pow'r 45
The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r!
Then might my voice thy list'ning ears employ,
And I those kisses he receives enjoy.

And yet my numbers please the rural throng,
Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the

song:

50.

The Nymphs forsaking ev'ry cave and spring,
Their early fruit, and milk-white turtles bring!
Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain,
On you their gifts are all bestow'd again.
For you the swains their fairest flow'rs design, 55
And in one garland all their beauties join;
Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compris'd in one.

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!
Descending Gods have found Elysium here.
In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd,
And chaste Diana haunts the forest-shade.
Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours,
When swains from sheering seek their nightly

bow'rs;

When weary reapers quit the sultry field,

60

65

And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 60. Descending Gods have found Elysium here.]

habitarunt Di quoque sylvas"-Virg.

"Et formosus oves ad flumina pavit Adonis." Idem.

P.

This harmless grove no lurking viper hides,
But in my breast the serpent Love abides.
Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew,
But your Alexis knows no sweets but you.
O deign to visit our forsaken seats,

70

The mossy fountains, and the green retreats!
Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade:
Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes. 76
O! how I long with you to pass my days,
Invoke the Muses, and resound your praise!
Your praise the birds shall chant in ev'ry grove,
And winds shall waft it to the pow'rs above.
But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain,
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call,
And headlong streams hang list'ning in their fall!

But see, the shepherds shun the noon-day heat, The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat,

80

86

Ver. 67, 68.] I think these two lines would not have passed without animadversion in any of our great schools.

Ver. 79, 80.

VARIATIONS,

Your praise the tuneful birds to heav'n shall bear,
And list'ning wolves grow milder as they hear.

So the verses were originally written. But the Author, young as he was, soon found the absurdity which Spenser himself overlooked, of introducing wolves into England. P.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 80. And winds shall waft, &c.]

"Partem aliquam, venti, divûm referatis ad aures !'

Virg. P.

To closer shades the panting flocks remove;
Ye Gods! and is there no relief for Love ?
But soon the sun with milder rays descends
To the cool ocean, where his journey ends :
On me love's fiercer flames for ever prey,
By night he scorches, as he burns by day.

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 91. Me love inflames, nor will his fires allay.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 88. Ye gods! &c.]

"Me tamen urit amor; quis enim modus adsit amori ?"

Idem. P.

90

P.

Virgil, in his Epic, attempted to paint those manners which he had never seen; and in his Pastora, those rustic manners which he was little acquainted with.