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Stretch'd on the lawn his * second hope survey,
At once the chaser and at once the prey,
Lo Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart,
Bleeds in the forest, like a wounded hart.
Succeeding Monarchs heard the subjects cries,
Nor saw displeas'd the peaceful cottage rise.
Then gath'ring flocks on unknown mountains fed,
O'er fandy wilds were yellow harvests spread;
The forests wonder'd at th' unusual grain,
And secret transport touch'd the conscious swain.
Fair Liberty, Britannia's Goddess, rears
Her chearful head, and leads the golden years.
Ye vig'rous swains ! while youth ferments your And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood,
[blood. Now range the hills, the thickest woods befet, Wind the shrill horn, or spread the waving net. When milder autumn sumıner's heat succeeds, And in the new-lhorn field the partridge feeds, Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds, Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd grounds, But when the tainted gales the game betray, Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey;
* William Rufus, fecond son of William the Conqueror.
Secure they trust th' unfaithful field, beset,
Till hov'ring o'er 'em-sweeps the swelling net.
Thus (if small things we may with great compare)
When Albion sends her eager fons to war,
Pleas'd, in the Gen'rals fight, the host lie down
Sudden, before fome unsuspecting town,
The captive race, one instant makes our prize,
And high in air Britannia's standard flies.
See! from the brake the whirring pheafant springs,
And mounts exulting on triumphant wings.
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Ah! what avail his gloffy, varying dies,
His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes,
The vivid green his shining plumes unfold,
His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold?
Nor yet, when moist Arsturus clouds the sky, The woods and fields their pleasing toils deny: To plains with well-bred beagles we repair, And trace the mazes of the circling hare. (Beasts taught by us, their fellow-beasts pursue, And learn of man each other to undo.) With daught'ring guns th'unweary'd fowler roves, When frosts have whiten'd all the naked groves;
Where doves in flocks the leaflefs trees o'erlade,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'rey glade.
He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye;
Strait a short thunder breaks the frozen sky.
Oft', as in airy rings they skim the heath,
The clam'rous plovers feel the leaden death:
Oft', as the mounting larks their notes prepare,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air.
In genial spring, beneath the quiv'ring shade,
Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead,
The patient filher takes his filent.ftand,
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand;
With looks unmov'd, he hopes the scaly breed,
And eyes the dancing cork, and bending reed.
Our plenteous streams a various race fupply;
The bright-ey'd perch with fins of Tyrian die,
The silver eel in shining volumes rollid,
The yellow carp, in scales bedrop'd with gold,
Swift trouts, diversify'd with crimson stains,
And pykes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car;
The youth ruth eager to the sylvan war;
Swarm 'o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround,
Rowze the fleet hart, and chear the op’ning hound.
Th’impatient courser pants in ev'ry vein,
And pawing, seems to beat the distant plain;
Hills, vales, and floods appear already crofs'd,
And e're he starts, a thousand steps are loft.
See! the bold youth ftrain up the threat’ning fteep,
Rush thro” the thickets, down the vallies sweep,
Hang o'er their coursers heads with eager speed,
And earth rolls back beneath the flying fteed.
Let old Arcadia boaft her ample plain,
Th' immortal huntrefs, and her virgin-train,
Nor envy, Windfor! since thy fhades have seen
As bright a Goddess, and as chaste a Queen ;'
Whose care, like hers, protects the sylvan reign,
The earth's fair light, and empress of the main.
Here, as old bards have sung, Diana stray'd,
Bath'd in the springs, or sought the cooling shade;
Here arm'd with filver bows, in early dawn,
Her buskin'd Virgins trac'd the dewy lawn.
Above the rest a rural nymph was fam'd,
Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona nam'd,
(Lodona's fate, in long oblivion caft,
The Muse shäll fing, and what the fings shall last ;)
Scarce could the Goddess from her nymph be known,
But by the crescent and the golden zone:
She scorn'd the praise of beauty, and the care ;
A belt her waste, á fillet binds her hair,
A painted quiver on her shoulder sounds,
And with her dart the flying deer the wounds.
It chanc'd, as eager of the chace the maid
Beyond the foreft's verdant limits stray'd,
Pan law and lov'd, and burning with desire
Pursu'd her flight, her flight increas'd his fire.
Not half fo swift the trembling doves can fly,
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky;
Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves,
When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling doves;
As from the God she flew with furious pace,
Or as the God, more furious, urg'd the chace.
Now fainting, finking, pale, the nymph appears ;
Now close behind his sounding steps the hears;
And now his shadow reach'd her as she run,
(His shadow lengthen’d by the setting fun)
And now his shorter breath, with sultry air,
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on father Thames she calls for aid,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathless, thus she pray'd, nor pray'd in vain;
" Ah Cynthia! ah -tho banish'd from thy train,