He rolls his fanguin'd eyes, his bofom heaves,
And darts with active rage along the waves.
Confus'd the monarch fees his hiffing foe,
And dives, to fhun the fable fates below.
Forgetful frog! the friend thy fhoulders bore,
Untkill'd in fwimming, floats remote from shore.
He grafps with fruitless hands to find relief,
Supinely falls, and grinds his teeth with grief;
Plunging he finks, and fruggling mounts again,
And finks, and frives, but ftrives with fate in
vain.

The weighty moisture clogs his hairy vest,
And thus the prince his dying rage exprest:

Nor thou, that fling'ft me flound'ring from thy
back,

Asfrom hard rocks rebounds the shattering wrack,
Nor thou fhalt 'fcape thy due, perfidious king!
Purfued by vengeance on the fwifteft wing!
At land thy ftrength could never equal mine,
At fea to conquer, and by craft, was thine.
But heaven has gods, and gods have fearching eyes:
Ye mice, ye mice, my great avengers rife!

This faid, he fighing gafp'd, and gasping dy'd,
His death the young Lychopynax efpy'd,
As on the flowery brink he pafs'd the day,
Bafk'd in the beams, and loiter'd life away.
Loud fhrieks the mouse, his fhricks the fhores
repeat;

The nibbling nation learn their heroe's fate :
Grief, difmal grief enfues; deep murmurs found,
And friller fury fills the deafen'd ground.
From lodge to lodge, the facred heralds run,
To fix their council with the rifing fun;
Where great Trexartas crown'd in glory reigns,
And winds his lengthening court beneath the
Plycarpax' father, father now no more! [plaius.
For poor Plycarpax lies remote from shore;
Supine he lies the filent waters stand,
And no kind billow wafts the dead to land!

BOOK II.

WHEN rofy-finger'd morn had ting'd the clouds, Around their monarch-moufe the nation crowds, Slow rofe the fovereign, heav'd his anxious breaft, And thus the council, fill'd with rage, addreft:

For loft Plycarpax much my foul endures, "Tis mine the private grief, the public yours. Three warlike fons adorn'd my nuptial bed, Three fons, alas, before their father dead! Our eldeft perifh'd by the ravening cat, As near my court the prince unheedful fat. Our next, an engine fraught with danger drew, The portal gap'd, the bait was hung in view, Dire arts affift the trap, the fates decoy, And men unpitying kill'd my gallant boy! The laft, his country's hope, his parent's pride, Plung'd in the lake by Phyfignathus dy'd; Roufe all to war, my friends! avenge the deed; And bleed that monarch, and his nation bleed.

His words in every breaft infpir'd alarms, And careful Mars fupply'd their hoft with arms. In verdant hulls defpoil'd of all their beans, The bufkir'd warriors ftalk'd along the plains:

Quills aptly bound their bracing corfelet made,
Fac'd with the plunder of a cat they flay'd:
The lamp's round bofs affords them ample fhield;
Large fhells of nuts their covering helmet yield;
And o'er the region, with reflected rays,
Tall groves of needles for their lances blaze,
Dreadful in arms the marching mice appear;
The wondering frogs perceive the tumult near,
Forfake the waters, thickening, form a ring,
And ask, and hearken, whence the noifes fpring.
When near the crowds, difclos'd to public view,
The valiant chief Embafichytros drew :
The facred herald's fceptre grac'd his hand,
And thus his word express'd his kings command:
Ye frogs! the mice, with vengeance fir'd, ad-
vance,

And deck'd in armour shake the fhining lance:
Their hapless prince by Phyfignathus flain,
Extends incumbent on the watery plain.
Then arm your hoft, the doubtful battle try :
Lead forth thofe frogs that have the foul to die.
The chief retires, the crowd the challenge
hear,

And proudly fwelling, yet perplex'd appear:
Much they refent, yet much their monarch blame,
Who, rifing, fpoke to clear his tainted fame :

O friends! I never forc'd the moufe to death, Nor faw the gasping of his latest breath. He, vain of youth, our art of fwimming try'd, And, ventrous, in the lake the wanton dy'd. To vengeance now by falfe appearance led, They point their anger at my guiltlefs head, But wage the rifing war by deep device, And turn its fury on the crafty mice. Your king directs the way; my thoughts, elate With hopes of conqueft form defigns of fate. Where high the banks their verdant furface heave And the fleep fides confine the fleeping wave, There, near the margin, clad in armour bright, Suftain the first impetuous fhocks of fight: Then, where the dancing feather joins the creft, Let cach brave frog his obvious mouse arreft; Each, ftrongly graffing, headlong plunge a foe, Till countless circles whirl the lake below; Down fink the mice in yielding waters drown'd; Loud flash the waters; and the fhores refound: The frogs triumphant tread the conquer'd plain, And raife their glorious trophies of the flain.

He fṛake no more, his prudent fcheme imparts Redoubling ardour to the oldest hearts. Green was the fuit his arning heroes chofe; Around their legs the greaves of mallows clofe; Green were the beets about their fhoulders laid, And green the colewort, which the target made, Form'd of the vary'd fhells the waters yield, Their gloffy helmets gliften'd o'er the field : And tapering fea-reeds for the polifh'd fpear, With upright order pierc'd the ambient air. Thus dreis'd for war, they take th' appointed

height,

Poife the long arms, and urge the promis'd fight.
But now, where Jove's irradiate fpires arife,
With ftars furrounded in ætherial fkies,
(A folemn council call'd) the brazen gates
Unbar; the gods affume their golden leats:

The fire fuperior leans, and points to fhow
What wondrous combats mortals wage below:
How ftrong, how large, the numerous heroes
fride,
[pride!
What length of lance they shake with warlike
What eager fire, their rapid march reveals!
So the fierce Centaurs ravag'd o'er the dales;
And to confirm'd, the daring Titans rofe,
Heap'd hills on hills, and bid the gods be foes,
This feen, the power his facred vifage rears;
He cafts a pitying fmile on worldly cares,
And asks what heavenly guardians take the lift,
Or who the mice, or who the frogs affist? -

Then thus to Pallas: If my daughter's mind
Have join'd the mice, why flays the still behind;
Drawn forth by favory teams they wind their
And fure attendance round thine altar pay, [way,
Where while the victims gratify their talte,
They fport to pleafe the goddefs of the feaft.

Thus fpake the Ruler of the fpacious skies. But thus, refolv'd, the blue-ey'd maid replies; In vain, my father! all their dangers plead, To fuch thy Pallas never grants her aid. My flowery wreaths they petulantly spoil, And rob my crystal lamps of feeding oil. (Ills following ills!) but what afflicts me more, My veil that idle race profanely tore. The web was curious, wrought with art divine; Relentless wretches! all the work was mine! Along the loom the purple warp I spread, Caft the light shoot, and croft the filver thread; In this their teeth a thousand breaches tear, The thousand breaches skilful hands repair, For which, vile earthly dunns thy daughter grieve (The gods, that ufe no coin, have none to give; And learning's goddess never lefs can owe, Neglected learning gains no wealth below). Nor let the frogs to win my fuccour fue, Thofe clamorous fools have loft my favour too: For late, when all the conflict ceas'd at night, When my stretch'd finews work'd with eager

fight,

When spent with glorious toil, I left the field,
And funk for flumber on my fwelling shield;
Lo from the deep, repelling fweet repofe,
With noify croakings half the nation rofe;
Devoid of reft, with aching brows I lay,
Till cocks proclaim'd the crimson dawn of day.
Let all, like me, from either host forbear,
Nor tempt the flying furies of the fpear;
Let heavenly blood (or what for blood may flow)
Adorn the conquest of a meaner foe.

Some daring moufe may meet the wondrous odds,
Though gods oppose, and brave the wounded gods.
O'er gilded clouds reclin'd, the danger view,
And be the wars of mortals fcenes for you.

So mov'd the blue-ey'd queen; her words perGreat Jove affented, and the rest obey'd. [suade,

BOOK III.

Now front to front the marching armies fhine, ilak ere they meet, and form the lengthening line:

The chiefs, confpicuous feen and heard afar,
Give the loud fignal to the rushing war;
Their dreadful trumpets deep-mouth'd hornets
found;

The founding charge remurmurs o'er the ground;
Ev'n Jove proclaims a field of horror nigh,
And rolls low thunder through the troubled fky.
Firft to the fight large Hypfiboas flew,
And brave Lychenor with a javelin flew.
The lucklefs warrior, fill'd with generous flame,
Stood foremost glittering in the post of fame;
When, in his liver ftruck, the javelin hung,
The moufe fell thundering, and the target rung;
Prone to the ground, he finks, his clofing eye,
And foil'd in duft his lovely treffes lie.

A fpear at Pelion Troglodytes caft;
The miflive fpear within the bofom past:
Death's fable thades the fainting frog furround,
And life's red tide runs ebbing from the wound.
Embafichytros felt Scutlæus' dart

Transfix, and quiver in his panting heart;
But great Artophagus aveng'd the flain,
And big Scutlaus tumbling loads the plain;
And Polyphonus dies, a frog renown'd
For boastful speech and turbulence of found;
Deep through the belly pierc'd, fupine he lay,
And breath'd his foul against the face of day.

The ftrong Lymnocharis, who view'd with irg
A victor triumph, and a friend expire;
With heaving arms a rocky fragment caught,
And fiercely flung where Troglodytes fought
(A warrior vers'd in arts, of fure retreat;
But arts in vain elude impending fate);
Full on his finewy neck the fragment fell,
And o'er his eye-lids clouds eternal dwell.
Lychenor (fecoud of the glorious name)
Striding advanc'd, and took no wandering aim;
Through all the frogs the fhining javelin flies,
And near the vanquish'd mouse the victor dies.

The dreadful stroke Crambophagus affrights,
Long bred to banquets, lefs inur'd to fights,
Heedlefs he runs, and ftumbles o'er the fteep,
And wildly floundering flathes up the deep;
Lychenor, following with a downward blow,
Reach'd in the lake his unrecover'd foc;
Gafping he rolls, a purple ftream of blood
Diftains the furface of the filver flood;
Through the wide wound the rushing entrails
throng,

And flow the breathlefs carcafe floats along.
Lymnifius good Tyroglyphus affails,
Prince of the mice that haunt the flowery vales,
Loft to the milky fares and rural feat,
He came to perifh on the bank of fate.

The dread Pternoglyphus demands the fight, Which tender Calaminthius fhuns by flight, Drops the green target, fpringing quits the foe, Glides through the lake, and fafely dives below. But dire Pternophagus divides his way

Through breaking ranks, and leads the dreadful

day.

No nibbling prince excell'd in fiercenefs more,
His parents fed him on the favage boar;
But where his lance the field with blood imbrucd,
Swift as he mov'd Hydrocharis purfued;

Till fallen in death he lies, a fhattering stone
Sounds on the neck, and crushes all the bone:
His blood pollutes the verdure of the plain,
And from his noftrils burfts the gushing brain.
Lycopinax with Borborocates fights,

A blameless frog, whom humbler life delights;
The fatal javelin unrelenting flies,
And darknefs feals the gentle croaker's eyes.

Incens'd Praffophagus, with fprightly bound,
Bears Cniffodiotes off the rifing ground,
Then drags him o'er the lake depriv'd of breath,
And, downward plunging, finks his foul to death.
But now the great Piycarpax fhines afar
(Scarse he fo great whose lofs provok'd the war);
Swift to revenge his fatal javelin fled,
And through the liver ftruck Pelufius dead;
His freckled corpfe before the victor fell,
His foul indignant fought the fhades of hell.

This faw Pelobates, and from the flood Heav'd with both hands a monstrous mass of mud; The cloud obfcene o'er all the hero flies, Difhonours his brown face, and blors his eyes. Enrag'd, and wildly fputtering, from the fhore A ftone, imme le cf fize, the warrior bore, A load for labouring earth, whofe bulk to raise Afks ten degeneratè mice of modern days. Full on the leg arrives the cushing wound: The frog, fupportiefs, wri hes upon the ground.

Thus flush'd, the victor wars with matchlefs Till loud Craugafides arrefts his course. [force, Hoarfe croaking threats precede! with fatal fpeed Deep through the belly ran the pointed reed, Then, ftrongly tugg'd, return'd imbrued with gore,

And on the pile his reeking entrails bore.

The lame Sitophagus, opprefs'd with pain, Creeps from the defperate dangers of the plain; And where the ditches rifing weeds fupply To fpread their lowly fhades beneath the sky, There lurks the filent moufe reliev'd from heat, And, lafe embower'd, avoids the chance of fate. But here Troxartas, Phyfignathus there, Whirl the dire furies of the pointed spear; But where the foot around its ankle plies, Troxartas wounds, and Phyfignathus flies, Haits to the pool, a fafe retreat to find, And trails a dangling length of leg behind. The mouse ftill urges, ftill the frog retires, And half in anguish of the flight expires.

Then pious ardour young Preffæus brings, Betwixt the fortunes of contending kings: Lank harmless frog with forces hardly grown, He darts the reed in combat not his own, Which, faintly tinkling on Troxartas' shield, Hangs at the point, and drops upon the field. Now nobly towering o'er the rest appears A gallant prince, that far tranfcends his years, Pride of his fire, and glory of his houte, And more a Mars in combat than a moufe: His action bold, robuft his ample frame, And Maridarpax his refounding name. The warrior, fingled from the fighting crowd, Boafts the dire honours of his arms aloud; Then frutting near the lake, with looks elate, To all its nations threats approaching fate:

And fuch his strength, the filver lakes around
Might roll their waters o'er unpeopled ground.
But powerful Jove, who fhews no less his grace
To frogs that perish, than to human race,
Felt foft compaffion rifing in his soul,
And shook his facred head, that shook the pole.
Then thus to all the gazing powers began

The fire of gods, and frogs, and mice, and man: What feas of blood I view! what worlds of flain!

An Iliad rifing from a day's campaign;
How fierce his javelin o'er the trembling lakes
The black-furr'd hero Meridarpax fhakes!
Unless fome favouring deity defcend,
Soon will the frogs loquacious empire end.
Let dreadful Pallas wing'd with pity fly,
And make her ægis blaze before his eye;
While Mars refulgent on his rattling car,
Arrefts his raging rival of the war.

He ceas'd, reclining with attentive head,
When thus the glorious god of combats said:
Nor Pallas, Jove though Pallas take the field,
With all the terrors of her hiffing fhield;
Nor Mars himself, though Mars in armour bright
Afcend his car, and wheel amidit the fight;
Not these can drive the desperate mouse afar,
Or change the fortunes of the bleeding war.
Let all go forth, all heaven in arms arise,
Or launch thy own red thunder from the skies,
Such ardent bolts as flew that wondrous day,
When heaps of Titans mix'd with mountains lay;
When all the giant race enormous fell,
And huge Enceladus was hurl'd to hell.

'Twas thus th' armipotent advis'd the gods, When from his throne the cloud-compeller nods, Deep-lengthening thunders run from pole to pole, Olympus trembles as the thunders roll.

Then fwift he whirls the brandish'd bolt around,
And headlong dars it at the distant ground;
The bolt discharg'd inwrap'd with lightning flies,
And rends its flaming paffage through the skies:
Then carth's inhabitants, the nibblers, thake,
And frogs, the dwellers in the waters, quake.
Yet ftili the mice advance their dread design,
And the last danger threats the croaking line;
Till Jove, that inly mourn'd the lofs they bore,
With ftrange affiftants fill'd the frighted shore.

Pour'd from the neighbouring ftrand, deform'd to view,

They march, a fudden unexpected crew!
Strong fuits of armour round their bodies clofe,
Which, like thick anvils, blunt the force of blows;
In wheeling marches torn oblique they go;
With harpy claws their limbs divide below;
Fell fheers the paffage to their mouth command;
From out the flesh their bones by nature stand;
Broad fpread their backs, their fhining shoulders

rife;

Unnumber'd joints distort their lengthen'd thighs;
With nervous cords their hands are firmly brac'd;
Their round black eye-bails in their bofom plac'd;
On eight long feet the wondrous warriors tread;
And either end alike fupplies a head.

Thete, mortal wits to call the crabs agree;
The gods have other names for things than we.

Now where the jointures from their loins depend,

The heroes tail with fevering grafps they rend. Here, short of feet, depriv'd the power to fly, There, without hands, upon the field they lie. Wrench'd from their holds, and scatter'd all around,

The bended lances heap the cumber'd ground.

| Helpless amazement, fear pursuing fear,
And mad confufion, through their hoft appear:
O'er the wild waste with headlong flight they go,
Or creep conceal'd in vaulted holes below.

But down Olympus to the western seas
Far-fhooting Phoebus drove with fainter rays;
And a whole war (fo Jove ordain'd) begun,
Was fought, and ceas'd, in one revolving fun.

To praife, yet ftill with due refpect to praise,
A bard triumphant in immortal bays,
The learn'd to fhew, the fenfible commend,
Yet ftill preserve the province of the friend,
What life, what vigour, must the lines require?
What mufic tune them? what affection fire?

O might thy genius in my bofom shine!
Thou fhould'ft not fail of numbers worthy thine,
The brighest ancients might at once agree
To fing within my lays, and fing of thee.
Horace himself would own thou dost excel
In candid arts to play the critic well.
Ovid himself might wish to fing the dame
Whom Windfor Foreft fees a gliding stream,
On filver feet, with annual ofier crown'd,
She runs for ever through poetic ground.

How flame the glories of Belinda's hair,
Made by thy mufe the envy of the fair!
Lefs fhone the treffes Ægypt's princefs wore,
Which fweet Callimachus fo fung before.
Here courtly treffes fet the world at odds,

Still flide thy waters foft among the trees,
Thy afpins quiver in a breathing breeze,
Smile all thy vallies in eternal spring,
Be hush'd, ye winds! while Pope and Virgil fing.
In English lays, and all fublimely great,
Thy Homer warms with all his ancient heat,
He fhines in council, thunders in the fight,
And flames with every fenfe of great delight.
Long has that poet reign'd, and long unknown,
Like monarchs fparkling on a diftant throne;
In all the majesty of Greece retir'd,

Himself unknown, his mighty name admir'd,
His language failing, wrapp'd him round with
night,

Thine, rais'd by thee, recalls the work to light.
So wealthy mines, that ages long before
Fed the large realms around with golden ore,
When choak'd by finking banks, no more appear,
And shepherds only fay, The mines were here!
Should fome rich youth (if nature warm his heart,
And all his projects ftand inform'd with art)

gods.

The new machines, in names of ridicule,
Mock the grave frenzy of the chemic fool.
But know, ye fair, a point conceal'd with art,
The fylphs and gnomes are but a woman's heart:
The graces ftand in fight; a fatyr train
Peep o'er their heads, and laugh behind the scene.
In Fame's fair temple, o'er the boldest wits
Infhrin'd on high ke facred Virgil fits,
And fits in measures, fuch as Virgil's mufe
To place thee near him might be fond to choose.
How might he tune th' alternate reed with thee,
Perhaps a Strephon thou, a Daphnis he,
While fome old Damon, o'er the vulgar wife,
Thinks he deferves, and thou deferv'ft, the prize.
Rapt with the thought, my fancy fecks the plains,
And turns me fhepherd while I hear the trains.
Indulgent nurfe of every tender gale,
Parent of flowerets, old Arcadia, hail!
Here in the cool my limb, at ease I spread,
Here let thy poplars whisper o'er my head,

The mines detected flame with gold again.
How vaft, how copious, are thy new defigns!
How every mufic varies in thy lines:
Still as I read, I feel my bofom beat,
And rife in raptures by another's heat.
Thus in the wood, when fummer drefs'd the days,
When Windfor lent us tuneful hours of ease,
Our ears the lark, the thuth, the turtle bleft;
And Philomela fweeteft o'er the reft:
The fhades refound with fong-O foftly tread!
While a whole teafon warbles round my head.

This to my friend-and when a friend infpires,
My filent harp its master's hand requires,
Shakes off the dust, and makes these rocks refound,
For fortune plac'd me in unfertile ground,
Far from the joys that with my foul agree,
From wit, from learning,—far, oh far from thee!
Here mofs-grown trees expand the fmalicft leaf,
Here half an acre's corn is half a fheaf,
Here hills with naked heads the tempett meet,
Rocks at their fide, and torrents at their feet,

Or lazy lakes, unconscious of a flood,
Whofe dull brown Naiads ever fleep in mud.

Yet here content can dwell, and learned eafe,
A friend delight me, and an author pleafe;
Ev'n here 1 fing, while Pope fupplies the theme,
Shew my own love, though not increase his fame.

A TRANSLATION

OF PART OF THE FIRST CANTO OF THE

RAPE OF THE LOCK,

INTO LEONINE VERSE,

After the Manner of the ancient Monks.

Er nunc dilectum fpeculum, pro more retectum,
Emicat in mensâ, quæ fplendet pyxide densâ :
Tum primum lymphâ, fe purgat candida nympha;
Janique fine mendâ, cœleftis imago videnda,
Nuda caput, bellos retinet, regit, implet, ocellos.
Hic ftupet explorans, feu cultus numen adorans.
Inferior claram Pythonia apparet ad aram,
Fortque tibi cautè, dicatque fuperbia! lautè,
Dona venufta; oris, quæ cunctis, plena laboris,
Excerpta explorat, dominamque deamque decorat.
Pyxide devot1, se pandit hic India tota,
Et tota ex iftâ tranfpirat Arabia cifta:
Testudo hic flecit, dum fe mea Lesbia pectit;
Atque elephas lentè, te pectit Lefbia dente;
Hunc maculis nôris, nivei jacet ille coloris.
Hic jacet et mundè, mundus muliebris abundè;
Spinula refplendens æris longo ordine pendens,
Pulvis fuavis odore, et epiftola fuavis amore.
In luit arma ergo, Veneris pulcherrima virgo;
Pulchrior in præfens tempus de tempore crefcens ;
Jam reparat rifus, jam furgit gratiâ visûs,
Jam promit cultu, mirac'la latentia vultu.
Pigmina jam mifcet, quo plus fua purpura glifcet,
Et geminans bellis fplendet magè fulgor ocellis.
Stant Lemures muti, Nymphæ intentique faluti,
Hic figit zonam, capiti, locat ille coronam,
Hac manicis formam, plicis dat et altera norniam;
Et tibi vel Betty, tibi vei nitidiffima Letry!
Gloria factorum temerè conceditur horum.

HEALTH. AN ECLOGUE.

Now early fhepherds o'er the meadow pafs,
And print long footsteps in the glittering grafs;
The cows neglectful of their pasture stand,
By turns obfequious to the milker's hand.

When Damon foftly trod the fhaven lawn,
Damon a youth from city cares withdrawn,
Long was the pleafing walk he wander'd through,
A cover'd arbour clos'd the distant view;
There refts the youth, and, while the feather'd
throng

Raife their wild mufic, thus contrives a fong.

Here, waited o'er by mild Etefian air, Thou country goddess, beauteous Health! repair; Here let my breast through quivering trees inhale Thy rofy bleffings with the morning gale.

What are the fields, or flowers, or all fee
Ah! taftelefs all, if not enjoy'd with, thee.

Joy to my foul! I feel the goddess nigh,
The face of nature cheers as well as I;
O'er the flat green refreshing breezes run,
The fmiling daizies blow beneath the fun,
The brooks run purling down with filver waves,
The planted lanes rejoice with dancing leaves,
The chirping birds from all the compafs rove
To tempt the tuneful echoes of the grove:
High funny fummits, deeply-fhaded dales, .
Thick moffy banks, and flowery winding vales,
With various profpect gratify the fight,
And fcatter fix'd attention in delight.

Come, country goddefs, come; nor thou fuffice, But bring thy mountain-fifter, Exercise. Call'd by thy lovely voice, fhe turns her pace, Her winding horn proclaims the finish'd chace; She mounts the rocks, the fkims the level plain, Dogs, hawks, and horfes, crowd her early train. Her hardy face repels the tanning wind, And lines and meshes loosely float behind. All these as means of toil the feeble fee, But thefe are helps to pleasure join'd with thee.

Let Sloth lie foftening till high noon in down,
Or lolling fan her in the fultry town,
Unnerv'd with reft; and turn her own difeafe,
Or fofter others in luxurious cafe:

I mount the courfer, call the deep-mouth'd hounds,
The fox unkennell'd flies to covert grounds;
I lead where ftags through tangled thickets tread,
And shake the faplings with their branching head;
I make the falcons wing their airy way,
And foar to feize, or flooping ftrike their prey;
To fnare the fish, I fix the luring bait;
To wound the fowl, I load the gun with fate.
'Tis thus through change of exercise I range,
And ftrength and pleasure rife from every change.
Here, beauteous Health, for all the year remain,
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus a-
Oh come, thou goddess of my rural fong, [gain.
And bring thy daughter, calm Content, along,
Dame of the ruddy cheek and laughing eye,
From whofe bright prefence clouds of forrow fly:
For her I mow my walks, I plat my bowers,
Clip my low hedges, and fupport my flowers;
To welcome her, this fummer-feat I dreft,
And here I court her when he comes to reft;
When the from exercife to learned cafe
Shall change again, and teach the change to please
Now friends converfing my foft hours refine,
And Tully's Tufculum revives in mine:
Now to grave books I bid the mind retreat,
And fuch as make me rather good than great;
Or o'er the works of eafy fancy rove,
Where flutes and innocence aniufe the grove :
The native bard, that on Sicilian plains
Firft fung the lowly manners of the fwains;
Or Maro's mufe, that in the fairest light
Paints rural profpes and the charms of fight;
Thefe foft aniufements bring content along,
And fancy, void of forrow, turns to fong.

Here, beauteous Health, for all the year re-
main;
[gain.
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus a*