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The Strings obey his Touch, and various move,
The low'r anfw'ring ftill to those above,
His reftlefs Fingers traverse to and fro,
And in Pursuit of Harmony they go;

Now, lightly fkimming, o'er the Strings they pafs,
Like Winds that gently brush the plying Grafs,
And melting Airs arife at their Command:
And now, laborious, with a weighty Hand
He finks into the Cords with folemn Pace,
And gives the fwelling Tones a manly Grace :
Then, intricate he blends agreeing Sounds,
While Mufick thro' the trembling Harp abounds.
The double Sounds the Nightingale perplex,
And pos'd, fhe does her troubled Spirit vex.
She warbles diffident, 'twixt Hope and Fear,
And hits imperfect Accents here and there.
Then Colin play'd again, and playing fung:
She, with the fatal Love of Glory ftung,
Hears all in Pain; her Heart begins to fwell;
In piteous Notes fhe fighs, in Notes that tell
Her bitter Anguifh. He, ftill finging, plies
His limber Joints: Her Sorrows higher rife.
How fhall the bear a Conq'ror, who before
No equal, thro' the Grove, in Mufick bore?
She droops, and hangs her flagging Wings, and moans,
And fetches from her Breaft melodious Groans.
Opprefs'd with Grief at laft, too great too quell,
Down breathlefs on the guilty Harp fhe fell,

Mr. Pope's Paftorals, being but four, afford not fo much Room for Criticifm as the others do, Guarini's Paftoral being near Seven Thousand Lines; but we venture to say, that those four of Mr. Pope's are without any Fault almoft, and were efteemed by the Author as the most perfect of his Works. In few Words, they were wrote in his first Manner, a

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fmooth,

fmooth, foft Harmony in the Numbers, and a la bour'd Correctness in the Stile. That this is true, we appeal to the following Lines spoken by the defpairing Shepherd Egon, in the third Paftoral:

Refound, ye Hills, refound my mournful Strains! I'll fly from Shepherd's Flocks to flow'ry Plains. From Shepherds Flocks and Plains I may remove, Forfake Mankind, and all the World-but Love! I know thee, Love! wild as the raging Main, More fell than Tygers on the Lybian Plain : Thou wert from Etna's burning Entrails torn, Got by fierce Whirlwinds, and in Thunder born! Refound, ye Hills, refound my mournful Lay! Farewell ye Woods, adieu the Light of Day!

All Mr. Pope's Paftoral Verfes are very serious and folemn, whereas Mr. Gay (with whom this Difcourse of Pastoral began, and with whom it shall end) has a great Deal of Comic Defcription in his; he has many very pretty quick Turns, that are fure to make the Reader fmile, which was his natural Genius. The laft Day of his Shepherd's Week he calls THE FLIGHTS; where Bowzybee, drunk and afleep under a Hedge, being wak'd by the Crowd of Lads and Laffes, begins to fing, they making a Circle round him :

Of Nature's Laws his Carrols first begun, Why the grave Owl can never face the Sun. For Owls, as Swains obferve, deteft the Light, And only fing and feek their Prey by Night. How Turnips hide their fwelling Heads below, And how the clofing Colworts upwards grow;

fiow Will-a-wifp ifleads night-faring Clowns, O'er Hills, and finking Bogs, and pathlefs Downs.

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Of Stars he told that shoot with fhining Trail,
And of the Glow-worm's Light that gilds his Tail.
He fung where Wood-cocks in the Summer feed,
And in what Climates they renew their Breed;
Some think to northern Coasts their Flight they tend,
Or to the Moon in midnight Hours afcend.
Where Swallows in the Winter's Seafon keep,
And how the drowsy Bat and Dormouse fleep.
How Nature does the Puppy's Eyelid clofe,
Till the bright Sun has nine Times fet and rofe.
For Huntsmen by their long Experience find,
That Puppies ftill nine rolling Suns are blind.

Now he goes on, and fings of Fairs and Shows,
For ftill new Fairs before his Eyes arofe.
How Pedlars Stalls with glitt'ring Toys are laid,
The various Fairings of the Country Maid.
Long filken Laces hang upon the Twine,
And Rows of Pins and Amber Bracelets fhine;
How the tight Lafs, Knives, Combs and Sciffars fpy's,
And looks on Thimbles with defiring Eyes.

Of Lott'ries next with tuneful Note he told,
Where filver Spoons are won and Rings of Gold.
The Lads and Laffes trudge the Street along,

And all the Fair is crouded in his Song.

His Carrols ceas'd: The lift'ning Maids and Swains Seem ftill to hear fome foft imperfect Strains. Sudden he rofe; and as he reels along

Swears Kiffes fweet should well reward his Song.
The Damfels laughing fly: the giddy Clown
Again upon a Wheat-fheaf drops adown;

The Pow'r that guards the drunk, his Sleep attends, 'Till, ruddy, like his Face, the Sun defcends.

Thus have we (till under the Correction of abler Pens) by Examples from fix very great Writers of Paftorals, fhown that Sort of poetical Compofition

to

to confift of the finest Descriptions of the Paffions, of Landikape, Actions of the moft graceful and mòving Kind, and inferior to no other Kind of Poetry whatever.

This Digreffion was made on the Mention of Mr. Gay in the Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, which, though it mentions Mr. Gay with Praife, is not very full of that Sort of Addrefs: It was indeed defign'd a Satyr, and Sporus, who in the first Edition was call'd Paris, and is in real Life the fame as Lord Fanny, lies under a most unmerciful Lafh; Mr. Pope, whenever he takes this Gentleman in Hand, feems to have a particular Delight in touching him to the very Quick; nay, he has turn'd the Fineness of his Perfon to what Disadvantage he could, for my Lord had a very par tiular Softness, and a Clearness of Complexion ufual to few Men, infomuch that when he was married, it occafioned a Ballad, Part of which was:

For Venus had never feen bedded

So perfect a Beau and a Belle,

As when H--r--y the handsome was married
To the beautiful Molly Le P--ll.

But the first Bloom of his Youth was worn off; before Mr. Pope had any Thing fatirical to fay of him, the Occafion he took, was from my Lord's Behaviour after he became a Courtier, when it was imagin'd he said fomething of Difadvantage to Mr. Pope to the late Queen, and to a certain Duke, of whom we have before fpoke, befides his Epiftle to a Doctor of Divinity, where he dropt an Allufion to fcandalous Reports made of Mr. Pope, farther intimating, that he was a Mechanick, fome faid a Hatter, fome a Farmer, nay, a Bankrupt, which latter falfe Character this Nobleman (if fuch a Reflection could be thought to come from a Nobleman) gave

into. Mr. Pope never wrote Replies to Curl's, to his, or other Pamphlets, but in a few Lines, occafionally as he wrote, generally anfwered the fame End: He begins this cutting Piece of Satire with a Threat:

Let Sporus tremble What? that Thing of Silk,'
Sports, that mere white Curd of Afs's Milk?
"Satire or Senfe alas! can Sporus feel?
"Who breaks a Butterfly upon a Wheel?"
Yet let me flap this Bug with gilded Wings,
This painted Child of Dirt, that flinks and ftings,
Whole Buzz the Witty and the Fair annoys,
Yet Wit ne'er tastes, nor Beauty ne'er enjoys:
So well-bred Spaniels civilly delight

In mumbling of the Game they dare not bite.
Eternal Smiles his Emptinefs betray,"

As fhallow Streams run dimpling all the Way.
Whether in florid Impotence he fpeaks,

And, as the Prompter breathes, the Puppet fqueaks,
Or at the Ear of Eve, familiar Toad,

Half Froth, half Venom, fpits himself abroad,
In Puns, or Politicks, or Tales, or Lies,

Or Spite, or Smut, or Rhymes, or Blafphemies.
His Wit all See-faw between that and this,
Now high, now low, now Mafter up, now Mifs,
And he himself one vile Antithefis.
Amphibious Thing! That acting either Part,
The trifling Head, or the corrupted Heart,
Fop at the Toilet, Flatt'rer at the Board,
Now trips a Lady, and now struts a Lord.
Eve's Temper thus the Rabbins have expreft,
A Cherub's Face, a Reptile all the reft,

Beauty that fhocks you, Parts that none will trust,
Wit that can creep, and Pride that licks the Duft.

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