Imágenes de páginas


An Epitaph.
Content, a Vision.


Pope. Sweetness, an Ode.

Conjugal Felicity.

Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady. Pope.
L' Allegro.

Il Penseroso.

The Mifer and Plutus,

A Sacred Lyric.
Ode to Innocence.


Anacreon. Hymn in the Oratorio of Abel.

162 164 171 174 177 179 182 188

194 197 200




Η Ε Α Σ Τ Η.



Now early shepherds o'er the meadows pass,
And print long footsteps on the glitt’ring grass ;
The cows, neglectful of their pasture, stand,
By turns obsequious to the milker's hand.

When Damon softly trod the shaven lawn,
Damon a youth from city cares withdrawn;
Long was the pleasing walk he wander'd through,
A cover'd arbour clos’d the distant view;
There rests the youth, and, while the feather'd throng
Raise their wild music, thus contrives a song.

Here, wafted o'er by mild Etesian air, Thou country Goddefs, beauteous Health! repair, Here let my breast through quiv’ring trees inhale Thy rosy blessings with the morning gale. What are the fields, or flow'rs, or all I fee: Ah! tasteless all, if not enjoy'd with thee.



Joy to my soul! I feel the goddess nigh,
The face of nature cheers as well as 1;
O'er the flat green refreshing breezes run,
The smiling daisies blow beneath the sun,
The brooks run purling down with silver waves,
The planted lanes rejoice with dancing leaves,
The chirping birds from all the compass rove
To tempt the tuneful echoes of the grove:
High funny summits, deeply shaded dales,
Thick mossy banks, and fow'ry winding vales,
With various prospects gratify the fight,
And scatter fix'd attention in delight.

Çome, country Goddess, come, nor thou fuffice,
But bring thy mountain fister, Exercise :
Call’d by thy lovely voice, she turns her pace,
Her winding horn proclaims the finish'd chace;
She mounts the rocks, The ikims the level plain,
Dogs, hawks and horses, 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 these are helps to pleasure join'd with thee.

Let sloth lie soft'ning 'till high noon in down, Or-lolling fan her in the sultry town, Unnery'd with rest; and turn her own disease, Or foster others in luxurious ease: I mount the courser, call the deep-mouth'd bounds, The fox unkennell’d flies to covert grounds;

I lead where stags through tangled thickets tread,
And Thake the saplings with their branching head;
I make the falcons wing their airy way,
And foar to seize, or stooping strike their prey;
To snare 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 strength and pleasure rise from ev'ry change.
Here beauteous Health for all the year remain,
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again,

Oh come, thou Goddess of my rural song!
And bring thy daughter, calm Content, along;
Dame of thy ruddy cheek and laughing eye,
From whose bright presence clouds of sorrow fly:
For her I mow my walks, I plat my bow'rs,
Clip my low hedges, and support my flow'rs;
To welcome her, this summer-seat I drest,
And here I court her when the comes to rest;
When the from exercise to learned ease
Shall change again, and teach the change to please.

Now friends conversing my soft hours refine,
And Tully's Tufculum revives in mine:
Now to grave books I bid the mind retreat,
And such as make me rather good than great.
Or o'er the works of easy fancy rove,
Where Autes and innocence amuse the grove:
The native bard that on Sicilian plains
First sung the lowly manners of the swains;

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