Grainger., Nor need the driver, Aethiop authoriz'd,

Thence more inhuman, crack his horrid whip;
From such dire sounds the indignant Muse averts
Het virgin-ear, where musick loves to dwell:
'Tis malice now, 'tis wantonness of power
To lash the laughing, labouring, singing throng.

What cannot song? all nature feels its power :
The hind's blithe whistle, as thro' stubborn soils
He drives the shining share; more than the goad,
His tardy steers impells. The Muse hath feen,
When health danc'd frolic in her youthful veins
And vacant gambols wing d the laughing hours;
The Mule hath seen on Annan's pastoral hills.
Of theft and I laughter erst the fell retreat,
But now the shepherd's beit- beloved walk.
Hath seen the shepherd, with his sylvan pipe,
Lead on his flock o'er crags, thro' bogs, and

streams,
A tedious journey; yet not weary they,
Drawn by the enchantment of his artless song.
What cannot musick! When 'brown Ceres asks
The reaper's sickle; what like magic found,
Puff'd from fonorous bellows by the squeeze
Of tuneful artist, can the rage difarm
Of the swart dog-star, and make harvest light?

1

Mason.

M a so n.

iaron.

Eben fo sehr, als sich die englische Nation in den neus ern Zeiten durch den edelsten und grdßten Geschmack in der Gartenkunft auszeichnet, unterscheidet sie fich auch durch den vorzüglichen Werth mancher ihrer prosaischen und poes tischen Schriften über diese Stunft. Unter den lettern ift das aus vier Büchern bestehende Gedicht, The English Garden, von dem noch lebendent, auch in andern Gattungen sehr glücklichen Dichter, William Miason, M. A. Nach der neuesten vollfåndigern Ausgabe, mit dem ausführlichen Stummentar und Anmerkungen von Dr. Burgb, hat es Hr. Henzler im ersten Hande seiner Poetical Library abdrucken laffen, und es wird hier daher an nachstehender kurzen Pros be genug seyn. Das erste Buch enthält die allgemeinen Grundfåge der Sartenkunst, welche mit den Regeln der Schönheit in der Landschaftsmahierei die nåmlichen sind, wos", bei zugleich das Zwedlose der franzdfischen und niederländis fdhen Manier im Gartenbau gezeigt wird. Im zweiten Bus che wird der Hauptgegenstand praktischer behandelt, und die Vertheilung des Plans zu einem reizenden Garten, im englis schen Geschmack, einzeln gergliedert; den Schluß dieses Buchs macht die, hier mitgetheilte, aus dem Curtius bea kannte Geschichte des sidonischen Stönigs Ubdolonimus. Das dritte Such betrifft die Berichsnerung der Garten durch Waffer und Gehsiz; und das vierte die fünftlichen Verzierungen von architektonischer, und andrer, zum Theil fehlerhafter, Art. Auch hier ist eine , ziemlich lange, rührende Erz&hlung ein: gewebt. Bei aller Anerkennung der mannichfaltigen Schina heiten dieses Sedichts, wünschten die englischen Stunstrichs ter doch einflimmig, daß der Verf. lieber den Reim, als die Teimlosen Jamben, oder blankverse, gewählt haben méchte; und seine Erklärung war ihnen nicht ganz befriedigend, daß ihm diese freiere Versart für einen Gegenstand, der selbst so viel Freiheit und Rannichfaltigkeit fodert, und für die Schilderung zwangloser Natur, die schicklidiße gedünkt babe.

THE ENGLISH GARDEN.

B. II. v. 448. S.

Miaron.

Pride of the year, purpureal spring! attend
And in the cheek of these sweet innocents
Behold your beauties picturd, as the cloud
That weeps its moment from thy fapphire heav'n
They frown with causeless forrow; as the beam
Gilding that cloud, with caufeless mirth they

smile
Stay, pitying Time! prolong their venal bliss.
Alas! ere we can note it in our song,
Comes manhood's feverish suminer, chilld full

foon
By cold autumnal care, till wintry age
Sinks in the frore severity of death.

Ah! who, when such life's momentary

dream,
Would mix in hireling lenates, ftrenuous there
To crush the venal Hydra, whose fell crests
Rise with recruited venom froin the wound!
Who, for fo vain a conflict, would forego
Thy sylvan haunts, celestial folitude!
Where self-improvement, crownd with felf-con-

tent,

Await to bless thy votary? Nurtur'd thus.
In tranquil groves, list’ning to Nature's voice,
That preach'd from whispering trees, and babbling

brooks
A leflon seldom learnt in Reason's school,
The wife Sidonian liv'd: and, tho' the pest
Of lawless tyranny around him rag'd;
Tho' Strato, great alone in Persia's gold.
Uncall’d, unhallow'd by the people's choice,
Usurp'd the throne of his brave ancestors,
Yet was his foul all peace; a garden's care
His only thought, its charms his only pride.

But Tiarort.

But now the conquering arms of Macedon
Had humbled Persia. Now Phoenicia's realm
Receives the son of Ammon; at whose frown
Her tributary kirigs, or quit their thrones.
Or at his sinile retain; and Sidon, now
Freed from her tyrant, points the Victor's step
To where her rightful sov'reign, doubly dear
By birth and virtue, prun'd his garden grove.
'Twas at that early hour, when now the sun
Behind majestic Lebanon's dark veil,
Hid his ascending fplendor; yet thro'each
Her cedar-vested fides, his flaunting beams
Shot to the, strand, and purpled all the main,
Where Commerce faw her Sidon's freighted wealth,
With languid streamers, and with folded fails,
Float in a lake of gold. The wind was hul hd,
And to the beach, each flowly-lifted wave,
Creeping with silver curl just kist the fliore,
And slept in filence. At this tranquil hour
Did Sidon's fenate, and the Grecian host,
Led by the conqueror of the world, approach
The secret glade that veil'd the man of toil.

Now near the mountain's foot the chief ar.

rivd
Where, round that glade, a pointed aloe screen,
Entwin'd with myrtle, met intangled brakes
That bar'd all entrance, save at one low gate
Whofe time disjointed arch with ivy chain'd
Bad stoop the warrior train. A pathway brown
Led thro' the pass, meeting a fretful brook,
And wandering near its channel, while it leapt
O'er many a rocky fragment, where rude Art
Had eas'd perchange, but not prescrib’d its way.

Clofe was the vale and shady; yet ere long
Its forest fides retiring, left a lawn
Of ample circuit, where the widening stream
Now o'er its pebbled channel nimbly tript
In many a lucid mazę. From the flower'd verge

of

Niason. , Of this clear rill now stray'd the devious path,

Amid ambrosial tufts where spicy plants,
Weeping their perfum'd tears of myrrh and

nard,
Stood crown'd with sharon's rose; or where,

apart,
The patriarch Palm his load of sugar'a dates
Shower'd plenteous; where the Fig, of standard

strength,
And rich Pomegranate, wrapt in dulcet pulp
Their racy feeds; or where the Citron's bough
Bent with its load of golden fruit mature.
Meanwhile the lawn beneath the scatter'd shade
Spread its serene extent; a stately file
Of circling Cypress mark'd the distant bound.

Now, to the left, the path ascending pierc'd
A smaller fylvan theatre, yet deck'd
With more majestic foliage. Cedars here,
Coeval with the sky-crown-d mountain's felf
Spread wide their giant arms; whence from a rock,
Craggy and black, that seem'd its fountain head,
The stream fell headlong; yet still higher rose,
Ev'n in th' eternal snows of Lebanon,
That hallow'd spring; thence, in the porous earth,
Long while ingulph'd , its crystal weight here

forcod
Its way to light and freedom. Down it dash'd;
A bed of native marble

pure

receiv'd
The new-born Naiad, and repos'd her wave,
Till with o'er - flowing pride it skim'd the lawn.

Fronting this lake there rose a solemn grot,
O'er which an ancient vine luxuriant fung
Its purple clusters, and beneath its roof
An unhewn altar. Rich Sabaea gums
That altar pil'd, and there with torch of pine
The venerable Sage, now first descry'd,
The fragrant incense kindled. Age had shed
That dust of silver o'er his fable locks,