Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Subject propos'd. Invocation of May. Description of Her: Her Operations on Nature. Bounty recommended; in particular at this Season. Vernal Apostrophe. Love the ruling Passion in May. The Celebration of Venus her Birth-Day in this Month. Rural Retirement in Spring. Conclusion.

159

I

Ethereal Daughter of the lusty Spring,
And sweet Favonius, ever-gentle May!
Shall I, unblam'd, presume of Thee to sing,
And with thy living Colours gild my Lay?
Thy genial Spirit mantles in my Brain;
My Numbers languish in a softer Vein:
I pant, too emulous, to flow in Spenser's Strain.

II

Say, mild Aurora of the blooming Year,
With Storms when Winter blackens Nature's Face;
When whirling Winds the howling Forest tear,
And shake the solid Mountains from their Base:
Say, what refulgent Chambers of the Sky
Veil thy beloved Glories from the Eye,
For which the Nations pine, and Earth's fair Children die?

160

III

Where Leda's Twins, forth from their Diamond-Tow'r,
Alternate, o'er the Night their Beams divide;
In Light embosom'd, happy, and secure
From Winter-Rage, thou chusest to abide.
Blest Residence! For, there, as Poets tell,
The Power's of Poetry and Wisdom dwell;
Apollo wakes the Arts; the Muses strike the Shell.

IV

Certes o'er Rhedicyna's laurel'd Mead,
(For ever spread, ye Laurels, green and new!)
The Brother-Stars their gracious Nurture shed,
And secret Blessings of Poetic-Dew.
They bathe their Horses in the learned Flood,
With Flame recruited for th' æthereal Road;
And deem fair Isis' Swans fair as their Father-God.

161

V

No sooner April, trim'd with Girlands gay,
Rains Fragrance o'er the World, and kindly Showrs;
But, in the Eastern-Pride of Beauty, May,
To gladden Earth, forsakes her heav'nly Bow'rs,
Restoring Nature from her palsy'd State.
April, retire; ne longer, Nature, wait:
Soon may she issue from the Morning's golden Gate.

VI

Come, bounteous May! in Fulness of thy Might,
Lead, briskly, on the mirth-infusing Hours,
All-recent from the Bosom of Delight,
With Nectar, nurtur'd; and involv'd in Flow'rs:
By Spring's sweet Blush, by Nature's teeming Womb;
By Hebe's dimply Smile, by Flora's Bloom;
By Venus'-self (for Venus'-self demands thee) come!

VII

By the warm Sighs, in dewy Even-Tide,
Of melting Maidens, in the Wood-bind-groves,
To Pity loosen'd, soften'd down from Pride;
By billing Turtles, and by cooing Doves;

162

By the Youth's Plainings stealing on the Air,
(For Youths will plain, tho' yielding be the Fair)
Hither, to bless the Maidens and the Youths, repair.

VIII

With Dew bespangled, by the Hawthorn-buds,
With Freshness breathing, by the daisy'd Plains,
By the mix'd Music of the warbling Woods,
And jovial Roundelays of Nymphs and Swains;
In thy full Energy, and rich Array,
Delight of Earth and Heav'n! O blessed May!
From Heav'n descend to Earth: on Earth vouchsafe to stay.

IX

She comes!—A silken Camus, emral'd-green,
Gracefully loose, adown her Shoulder's flows,
(Fit to enfold the Limbs of Paphos' Queen)
And with the Labours of the Needle glows,
Purfled by Nature's Hand! The amorous Air
And musky-western Breezes, fast, repair,
Her Mantle proud to swell, and wanton with her Hair.

163

X

Her Hair (but rather Threads of Light it seems)
With the gay Honours of the Spring intwin'd,
Copious, unbound, in nectar'd Ringlets streams,
Floats glitt'ring on the Sun, and scents the Wind,
Love-sick with Odours!—Now to order roll'd,
It melts upon her Bosom's dainty Mould,
Or, curling round her Waste, disparts its wavy Gold.

XI

Young-circling Roses, blushing, round them throw
The sweet Abundance of their purple Rays,
And Lillies, dip'd in Fragrance, freshly blow,
With blended Beauties, in her Angel-Face.
The humid Radiance beaming from her Eyes
The Air and Seas illumes, the Earth and Skies;
And open, where she smiles, the Sweets of Paradise.

XII

On Zephyr's Wing the laughing Goddess view,
Distilling Balm. She cleaves the buxom Air,
Attended by the silver-footed Dew,
The Ravages of Winter to repair.

164

She gives her naked Bosom to the Gales,
Her naked Bosom down the Æther Sails;
Her Bosom breaths Delight; her Breath the Spring exhales.

XIII

All as the Phenix, in Arabian Skies,
New-burnish'd from his spicy Funeral Pyres,
At large, in roseal Undulation, flies;
His Plumage dazzles and the Gazer tires:
Around their King the plumy Nations wait,
Attend his Triumph, and augment his State:
He tow'ring, claps his Wings, and wins th' Æthereal Height.

XIV

So round this Phenix of the gawdy Year
A thousand, nay ten thousand Sports and Smiles,
Fluttering in Gold, along the Hemisphere,
Her Praises chaunt; her Praises Glad the Isles.

165

Conscious of her approach (to deck her Bow'rs)
Earth from her fruitful Lap and Bosom pours
A waste of springing Sweets, and voluntary Flow'rs.

XV

Narcissus fair, in snowy Velvet gown'd;
Ah foolish! still to love the Fountain-brim:
Sweet Hyacinth, by Phebus erst bemoan'd;
And Tulip, flaring in her powder'd Trim.
Whate're, Armida, in thy Gardens blew;
Whate're the Sun inhales, or sips the Dew;
Whate're compose the Chaplet on Ianthes' Brow.

166

XVI

He who undaz'd can wander o'er her Face,
May gain upon the Solar-blaze at Noon!—
What more than female Sweetness, and a Grace
Peculiar! save, Ianthe, thine alone,
Ineffable Effusion of the Day!
So very much the same, that Lovers say,
May is Ianthe; or the dear Ianthe, May.

XVII

So far as doth the Harbinger of Day
The lesser Lamps of Night in Sheen excell;
So far in Sweetness and in Beauty May
Above all other Months doth bear the Bell.
So far as May doth other Months exceed,
So far in Virtue and in Goodlihead,
Above all other Nymphs Ianthe bears the Meed.

XVIII

Welcome! as to a youthful Poet, Wine,
To fire his Fancy, and enlarge his Soul:
He weaves the Laurel-Chaplet with the Vine,
And grows Immortal as he drains the Bowl.

167

Welcome! as Beauty to the lovesick Swain,
For which he long had sigh'd, but sigh'd in Vain;
He darts into her Arms; quick-vanishes his Pain.

XIX

The drowzy Elements, arouz'd by thee,
Roll to harmonious Measures, active all!
Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, with feeling Glee,
Exult to celebrate thy Festival.
Fire Glows intenser; softer, blows the Air;
More smooth the Waters flow; Earth smiles more fair:
Earth, Water, Air and Fire, thy gladning impulse Share.

XX

What boundless Tides of Splendor o'er the Skies,
O'erflowing Brightness! stream their golden Rays!
Heav'ns Azure kindles with the varying Dies,
Reflects the Glory, and returns the Blaze.
Air whitens; wide the Tracts of Æther been
With Colours damask'd rich, and goodly Sheen,
And all above, is blue; and all below is green.

168

XXI

At thy approach, the wild Waves' loud uproar,
And foamy Surges of the mad'ning Main,
Forget to heave their Mountains to the Shore;
Diffus'd into the level of the Plain.
For thee, the Halcyon builds her Summer's-nest;
For thee, the Ocean smooths her troubled Breast,
Gay from thy placid Smiles, in thy own purple Drest.

XXII

Have ye not seen, in gentle Even-tide,
When Jupiter the Earth hath richly showr'd,
Striding the Clouds, a Bow dispredden-wide
As if with Light inwove, and gayly flowr'd
With bright Variety of blending Dies?
White, purple, yellow melt along the Skies,
Alternate Colours sink, alternate Colours rise.

XXIII

The Earths embroidery then have ye ey'd,
And smile of Blossoms, yellow, purple, white;
Their vernal-tinctur'd Leaves, luxurious, died
In Flora's Liv'ry, painted by the Light.

169

Lights' painted Children in the Breezes play,
Lay out their dewy Bosoms to the Ray,
Their soft Enamel spread, and beautify the Day.

XXIV

From the wide Altar of the foodful Earth
The Flow'rs, the Herbs, the Plants, their Incense roll;
The Orchards swell the Ruby-tinctur'd Birth;
The Vermil-gardens breath the spicy Soul.
Grateful to May, the Nectar-spirit flies,
The wafted Clouds of lavish'd Odours rise,
The Zephyr's balmy Burthen, worthy of the Skies.

XXV

The Bee, the golden Daughter of the Spring,
From Mead to Mead, in wanton Labour, roves,
And loads its little Thigh, or gilds its Wing
With all the Essence of the flushing Groves:
Extracts the aromatick Soul of Flow'rs,
And, humming in Delight, its waxen Bow'rs
Fills with the luscious Spoils, and lives Ambrosial-Hours.

170

XXVI

Touch'd by Thee, May, the Flocks and lusty Droves
That low in Pastures, or on Mountains bleat,
Revive their Frolicks and renew their Loves,
Stung to the Marrow with a generous Heat.
The stately Courser, bounding o'er the Plain,
Shakes to the Winds the Honours of his Mane,
(High-arch'd his Neck) and, snuffing, hopes the dappled Train.

XXVII

The aëreal Songsters sooth the list'ning Groves:
The mellow Thrush, the Ouzle sweetly shrill,
And little Linnet celebrate their Loves
In Hawthorn Valley, or on tufted Hill;
The soaring Lark, the lowly Nightingale,
A Thorn her Pillow, trills her doleful Tale,
And melancholy Musick dies along the Dale.

XXVIII

This gay Exuberance of gorgeous Spring,
The gilded Mountain, and the herbag'd Vale,
The Woods that blossom, and the Birds that sing,
The murmuring Fountain and the breathing Dale:

171

The Dale, the Fountains, Birds and Woods delight,
The Vales, the Mountains and the Spring invite,
Yet unadorn'd by May, no longer charm the Sight.

XXIX

When Nature laughs around, shall Man alone,
Thy Image, hang (ah me!) the sickly Head?
When Nature sings, shall Nature's Glory groan,
And languish for the Pittance poor of Bread!
O may the Man that shall his Image scorn,
Alive, be ground with Hunger, most forlorn,
Die unanell'd, and dead, by Dogs and Kites be torn.

XXX

Curs'd may He be (as if he were not so.)
Nay doubly curs'd be such a Breast of Steel,
Which never melted at Another's Woe,
Nor Tenderness of Bowels knew to feel.
His Heart is black as Hell, in flowing Store
Who hears the Needy crying at his Door,
Who hears Them cry, ne recks; but suffers them be Poor.

172

XXXI

But blest, O more than doubly blest be He!
Let Honour crown him and eternal Rest,
Whose Bosom, the sweet Fount of Charity,
Flows out to noursle Innocence distrest.
His Ear is open to the Widows cries,
His Hand the Orphan's Cheek of Sorrow drys;
Like Mercy's self he looks on Want with Pity's Eyes.

XXXII

In this blest Season, pregnant with Delight,
Ne may the boading Owl with Screeches wound
The solemn Silence of the quiet Night,
Ne croaking Raven, with unhallow'd Sound,
Ne damned Ghost affray with deadly Yell
The waking Lover, rais'd by mighty Spell,
To pale the Stars, till Hesper shine it back to Hell.

XXXIII

Ne Witches rifle Gibbets, by the Moon,
(With Horror winking, trembling all with with Fear)
Of many a clinking Chain, and canker'd Bone:
Nor Imp in visionary Shape appear,

173

To blast the thriving Verdure of the Plain;
Ne let Hobgoblin, ne the Ponk, profane
With shadowy Glare the Light, and mad the bursting Brain.

XXXIV

Yet Fairy-Elves (so ancient Custom's will)
The green-gown'd Fairy Elves, by starry Sheen,
May gambol or in Valley or on Hill,
And leave their Footsteps on the circled Green.
Full lightly trip it, dapper Mab, around;
Full featly, Ob'ron, Thou, o'er Grass-turf bound:
Mab brushes off no Dew-drops, Ob'ron prints no ground.

XXXV

Ne bloody Rumours violate the Ear,
Of City's sack'd, and Kingdoms desolate,
With Plague or Sword, with pestilence or War;
Ne rueful Murder stain thy æra-date;

174

Ne shameless Calumny, for fell Despight,
The foulest Fiend that e'er blasphem'd the Light,
At lovely Lady rail, nor grin at courteous Knight.

XXXVI

Ne Wailing in our Streets nor Fields be heard,
Ne Voice of Misery assault the Heart;
Ne Fatherless from Table be debar'd;
Ne piteous Tear from Eye of Sorrow start;
But Plenty, pour thy self into the Bowl
Of Bounty-head; may never Want controul
That Good, Good-Honest Man, who feeds the famish'd Soul.

XXXVIII

Now let the Trumpet's martial Thunders sleep;
The Viol wake alone, and tender Flute:
The Phrygian Lyre with sprightly Fingers sweep,
And, Erato, dissolve the Lydian-lute.
Yet Clio frets, and burns, with honest Pain,
To rouze and animate the martial Strain,
While British Banners flame o'er many a purpled Plain.

175

XXXVIII

The Trumpet sleeps, but soon for Thee shall wake,
Illustrious Chief! to sound thy mighty Name,
(Snatch'd from the Malice of Lethean-lake)
Triumphant-swelling from the Mouth of Fame.
Mean while, disdain not (so the Virgins pray)
This Rosy-Crown, with Myrtle wove and Bay;
(Too humble Crown I ween:) the Offering of May.

XXXIX

And while the Virgins hail Thee with their Voice,
Heaping thy crowded Way with Greens and Flow'rs,
And in the Fondness of their Heart rejoice
To sooth, with Dance and Song, thy gentler Hours;
Indulge the Season, and with sweet Repair
Embay thy Limbs, the vernal Beauties share:
Then blaze in Arms again, renew'd for future War.

XL

Britannia's happy Isle derives from May
The choicest Blessings Liberty bestows:
When Royal Charles (for ever hail the Day!)
In Mercy triumph'd o'er ignoble Foes.

176

Restor'd with him, the Arts the drooping Head
Gayly again uprear'd; the Muses Shade
With fresher Honours bloom'd, in greener Trim array'd.

XLI

And Thou, the goodliest Blossom of our Isles!
Great Frederick's and His Augusta's Joy,
Thy native Month approv'd with Infant-smiles,
Sweet as the smiling May, Imperial Boy!
Britannia hopes Thee for her future Lord,
Lov'd as thy Parents, only not ador'd!
Whene're a George is born, Charles is again Restor'd.

XLII

O may his Father's Pant for finer Fame,
And boundless Bountyhead to Humankind;
His Grandsires Glory, and his Uncles Name,
Renown'd in War! inflame his ardent Mind:
So Arts shall flourish 'neath His equal Sway,
So Arms the Hostile Nations wide affray;
The Laurel, Victory; Apollo, wear the Bay.

177

XLIII

Through kind Infusion of celestial Pow'r,
The dullard-Earth May quick'neth with Delight:
Full suddenly the Seeds of Joy recure
Elastick Spring, and Force within empight.
If senseless Elements invigorate prove
By genial May, and heavy Matter move,
Shall Shepherdesses cease, shall Shepherds fail to love?

XLIV

Ye Shepherdesses, in a goodly Round,
Purpled with Health, as in the Greenwood-Shade,
Incontinent ye thump the echoing Ground
And defftly lead the Dance along the Glade;
(O may no Show'rs your Merry-makes affray!)
Hail at the op'ning, at the closing Day,
All hail, ye Bonnibels, to your own Season, May.

178

XLIV

Nor ye absent yourselves, ye Shepherd-Swains,
But lend to Dance and Song the liberal May,
And while in jocund Ranks you beat the Plains,
Your Flocks shall nibble and your Lambkins play,
Frisking in Glee. To May your Girlands bring,
And ever and anon her Praises sing:
The Woods shall echo May, with May the Vallies ring.

XLV

Your May-pole deck with flow'ry Coronal;
Sprinkle the flow'ry Coronal with Wine;
And in the nimble-footed Galliard, all,
Shepherds and Shepherdesses, lively, join.
Hither from Village sweet and Hamlet fair,
From bordering Cot and distant Glenne repair:
Let Youth indulge its Sport, to Eld bequeath its Care.

XLVI

Ye wanton Dryads and light-tripping Fawns,
Ye jolly Satyrs, full of Lustyhead,
And ye that haunt the Hills, the Brooks, the Lawns;
O come with rural Chaplets gay dispread:

179

With Heel so nimble wear the springing Grass,
To shrilling Bagpipe, or to tinkling Brass;
Or foot it to the Reed: Pan pipes himself apace.

XLVII

In this soft Season, when Creation smil'd,
A quivering Splendor on the Ocean hung,
And from the fruitful Froth, his fairest Child,
The Queen of Bliss and Beauty, Venus sprung.
The Dolphins gambol o'er the wat'ry Way,
Carrol the Naids, while the Triton's play,
And all the sea-green Sisters bless the Holy-day.

XLVIII

In Honour of her natal-Month the Queen
Of Bliss and Beauty, consecrates her Hours,
Fresh as her Cheek, and as her Brow serene,
To buxom Ladies, and their Paramours.
Love tips with golden Alchimy his Dart;
With rapt'rous Anguish, with an honey'd Smart
Eye languishes on Eye, and Heart dissolves on Heart.

180

XLIX

A softly-swelling Hill, with Myrtles crown'd,
(Myrtles to Venus Algates sacred been)
Hight Acidale, the fairest Spot on Ground,
For ever fragrant and for ever green,
O'erlooks the Windings of a shady Vale,
By Beauty form'd for amorous Regale.
Was ever Hill so sweet, as sweetest Acidale?

L

All down the Sides, the Sides profuse of Flow'rs,
An hundred Rills, in shining Mazes, flow
Through mossy Grotto's Amaranthine Bow'rs,
And form a laughing Flood in Vale below:
Where oft their Limbs the Loves and Graces bay
(When Summer sheds insufferable Day)
And sport, and dive, and flounce in Wantonness of Play.

LI

No Noise o'ercomes the Silence of the Shades,
Save short-breath'd Vows, the dear Excess of Joy;
Or harmless Giggle of the Youths and Maids,
Who yield Obeysance to the Cyprian Boy:

181

Or Lute, soft-sighing in the passing Gale;
Or Fountain, gurgling down the sacred Vale,
Or Hymn to Beauty's Queen, or Lover's tender Tale.

LII

Here Venus revels, here maintains her Court
In light Festivity and gladsome Game:
The Young and Gay, in frolick Troops resort,
Withouten Censure and withouten Blame.
In Pleasure steep'd, and dancing in Delight,
Night steals upon the Day, the Day, on Night:
Each Knight, his Lady loves; each Lady loves her Knight.

LIII

Where lives the Man (if such a Man there be)
In idle Wilderness or Desart drear,
To Beauty's sacred Pow'r an Enemy?
Let foul Fiends harrow him; I'll drop no Tear.
I deem that Carl, by Beauty's Pow'r unmov'd,
Hated of Heav'n, of none but Hell approv'd.
O may he never love, O never be belov'd!

182

LIV

Hard is his Heart, unmelted by Thee, May!
Unconscious of Love's nectar-tickling Sting,
And, unrelenting, cold to Beauty's Ray;
Beauty the Mother and the Child of Spring!
Beauty and Wit declare the Sexes even;
Beauty, to Woman, Wit to Man is given;
Neither the Slime of Earth, but each the Fire of Heav'n.

LV

Alliance sweet! let Beauty, Wit approve,
As Flow'rs to Sunshine ope the ready Breast:
Wit Beauty Loves, and nothing else can love:
The best alone is grateful to the best.
Perfection has no other Parallel!
Can Light, with Darkness; Doves with Ravens dwell?
As soon, perdie, shall Heav'n Communion hold with Hell.

LVI

I sing to you, who love alone for Love:
For Gold the beauteous Fools (O Fools besure!)
Can win; tho' brighter Wit shall never move:
But Folly is to Wit the certain Cure.

183

Curs'd be the Men, (or be they young or old)
Curs'd be the Women, who themselves have sold
To the detested Bed for Lucre base of Gold.

LVII

Not Julia such: she higher Honour deem'd
To languish in the Sulmo-Poet's Arms,
Than, by the Potentates of Earth esteem'd,
To give to Scepters and to Crowns her Charms.
Not Laura such: in sweet Vauclusa's Vale
She list'ned to her Petrarch's amorous Tale.
But did poor Colin Clout o'er Rosalind prevail?

LVIII

Howe'er that be; in Acidalian Shade,
Embracing Julia, Ovid melts the Day:
No Dreams of Banishment his Loves invade;
Encircled in Eternity of May.

184

Here Petrarch with his Laura, soft reclin'd
On Violets, gives Sorrow to the Wind:
And Colin Clout pipes to the yielding Rosalind.

LIX

Pipe on, thou sweetest of the th' Arcadian-Train,
That e'er with tuneful Breath inform'd the Quill:
Pipe on, of Lovers the most loving Swain!
Of Bliss and Melody O take thy Fill.
Ne envy I, if dear Ianthe smile,
Tho' low my Numbers, and tho' rude my Stile;
Ne quit for Acidale, fair Albion's happy Isle.

LX

Come then, Ianthe! milder than the Spring,
And grateful as the rosy Mouth of May,
O come; the Birds the Hymn of Nature sing,
Inchanting-wild, from every Bush and Spray:

185

Swell the green Gemms and teem along the Vine,
A fragrant Promise of the future Wine,
The Spirits to exalt, the Genius to refine!

LXI

Let us our Steps direct where Father-Thames.
In silver Windings draws his humid Train,
And pours, where'er he rolls his Naval-stream,
Pomp on the City, Plenty o'er the Plain.
Or by the Banks of Isis shall we stray,
(Ah why so long from Isis Banks away!)
Where thousand Damsels dance, and thousand Shepherds play.

LXII

Or chuse you rather Theron's calm Retreat,
Embosom'd, Surry, in thy verdant Vale,
At once the Muses and the Graces Seat!
There gently listen to my faithful Tale.
Along the dew-bright Parterres let us rove,
Or taste the Odours of the Mazy-Grove:
Hark how the Turtles coo: I languish too with Love.

186

LXIII

Amid the Pleasaunce of Arcadian Scenes,
Love steals his silent Arrows on my Breast;
Nor Falls of Water, nor enamel'd Greens,
Can sooth my Anguish, or invite to Rest.
You, dear Ianthe, you alone impart
Balm to my Wounds, and Cordial to my Smart:
The Apple of my Eye, the Life-blood of my Heart.

LXIV

With Line of Silk, with Hook of barbed Steel,
Beneath this Oaken Umbrage let us lay,
And from the Water's Crystal-bosom steal
Upon the grassy Bank the finny Prey:
The Perch, with Purple speckled manifold;
The Eel, in silver Labyrinth self-roll'd,
And Carp, all-burnish'd o'er with Drops of scaly Gold.

LXV

Or shall the Meads invite, with Iris-hues
And Nature's Pencil gay-diversify'd,
(For now the Sun has lick'd away the Dews)
Fair-flushing and bedeck'd like Virgin-bride?

187

Thither, (for they invite us) we'll repair,
Collect and weave (whate'er is sweet and fair)
A Posy for thy Breast, a Garland for thy Hair.

XLVI

Fair is the Lilly, clad in balmy Snow;
Sweet is the Rose, of Spring the smiling Eye;
Nipt by the Winds, their Heads the Lillies bow;
Cropt by the Hand, the Roses fade and dye.
Tho' now in Pride of Youth and Beauty drest,
O think, Ianthe, cruel Time lays waste
The Roses of the Cheek, the Lillies of the Breast.

LXVII

Weep not; but, rather taught by this, improve
The present Freshness of thy springing Prime:
Bestow thy Graces on the God of Love,
Too precious for the wither'd Arms of Time.
In chaste Endearments, innocently gay,
Ianthe! now, now love thy Spring away;
Ere cold October-blasts despoil the Bloom of May.

188

LXVIII

Now up the Chalky Mazes of yon Hill,
With grateful Diligence, we wind our Way;
What op'ning Scenes our ravish'd Senses fill,
And, wide, their rural Luxury display!
Woods, Dales, and Flocks, and Herds, and Cots and Spires,
Villa's of learned Clerks, and gentle Squires;
The Villa of a Friend the Eye-sight never tires.

LXIX

If er'e to Thee and Venus, May, I strung
The gladsome Lyre, when Livelood swell'd my Veins,
And Eden's Nymphs and Isis Damsels sung
In tender Elegy, and Pastoral-strains;
Collect and shed thyself on Theron's Bowr's,
O green his Gardens, O perfume his Flow'rs,
O bless his Morning-walks and sooth his Ev'ning-hours.

189

LXX

Long, Theron, with thy Annabell enjoy
The Walks of Nature, still to Virtue kind,
For sacred solitude can never cloy;
The Wisdom of an uncorrupted Mind!
O very long may Hymen's golden Chain
To Earth confine you and the Rural-reign;
Then soar, at length, to Heaven! nor pray, O Muse, in vain.

LXXI

Wherer'e the Muses haunt, or Poets muse,
In solitary Silence sweetly tir'd,
Unloose thy Bosom, May! thy Stores effuse,
Thy vernal Stores, by Poets most desir'd,
Of living Fountain, of the Wood-bind-shade,
Of Philomela, warbling from the Glade.
Thy Bounty, in his Verse, shall certes be repay'd.

LXXII

On Twit'nam-Bow'rs (Aonian-Twit'nam-Bow'rs!)
Thy softest Plenitude of Beauties shed,
Thick as the Winter-Stars, or Summer-Flow'rs;
Albè the tuneful Master (ah!) be dead.

190

To Colin next He taught my Youth to sing,
My Reed to warble, to resound my String:
The King of Shepherd's He, of Poet's He the King.

LXXIII

Hail, happy Scenes, where Joy wou'd chuse to dwell;
Hail, golden Days, which Saturn deems his own;
Hail Musick, which the Muses scant excell;
Hail Flowrets, not unworthy Venus'-crown.
Ye Linnets, Larks, ye Thrushes, Nightingales;
Ye Hills, ye Plains, ye Groves, ye Streams, ye Gales,
Ye ever-happy Scenes! all you, your Poet hails.

LXXIV

All-hail to thee, O May! the Crown of all!
The Recompence and Glory of my Song:
Ne small the Recompence, ne Glory small,
If gentle Ladies, and the Tuneful-Throng,
With Lovers-Myrtle, and with Poet's-Bay
Fairly bedight, approve the simple Lay,
And think on Thomalin whene'er they hail Thee, May!

Castor and Pollux.

The Gemini are supposed to preside over learned men. See Pontanus in his beautiful Poem call'd Urania. Lib. 2. De Geminis.

Surely, certainly. Ibid. ------ Rhedicyna, &c. Oxford.

Jupiter deceiv'd Leda in the Shape of a Swan as She was bathing herself in the River Euretas.

Garlands.

Nor.

Songs.

A light Gown.

Flowrish'd with a Needle.

Pliny tells us. Lib. 11. That the Phenix is about the Bigness of an Eagle: The Feathers round the Neck shining like Gold, the Body of a purple Colour, the Tail blue with Feathers resembling Roses. See Claudian's fine Poem on that Subject and Marcellus Donatus, who has a short Dissertation on the Phenix in his Observations on Tacitus. Annal. Lib. 6. Westley on Job, and Sr. Tho. Brown's Vulgar Errors.

A beautiful Youth who, beholding his Face in a Fountain, fell in Love with himself, and pining away was chang'd into a Flow'r which bears his Name. See Ovid. Metamorph. Lib. 3.

Belov'd and turned into a Flow'r by Apollo. See the Story in Ovid. Met. Lib. 10. There is likewise a curious Dialogue in Lucian betwixt Mercury and Apollo on this Subject. Servius in his Notes on Virgil's second Bucolick takes the Hyacinth to be the Vaccinium of the Latines, bearing some Similitude with the Name.

Formerly: long ago.

See Tasso's Il Goffredo. Canto 16.

Undazzled.

Brightness. Shining.

Beauty.

Prize.

Spread.

Blackbird.

Without a funeral Knell.

Nor is concern'd.

To nurse.

Nor.

Affright.

The Lemuria, or Rites sacred to the Lemures, were celebrated by the Romans in May. See Ovid. Fast. 1. 5. &c. They imagined the Lemures (in English, Fairies) to be like Ghosts of deceased Persons: but our traditional Accounts are very different in Respect to the Nature of Fairies. Shake-spear's Midsummers Night's Dream, Drayton's Fairy Tale, and a celebrated Old Ballad, are Master-pieces in their Kind.

Brightness.

Nimbly.

Nor.

Recover.

Placed, fixed.

Finely.

Pretty Women.

A Country Hamlet.

Old Age.

Vigour.

Ever.

Bathe.

Destroy.

A Clown.

An old Word for asserting any Thing.

Spenser.

These three celebrated Poets and Lovers were all of them unhappy in their Amours. Ovid was banish'd on Account of his Passion for Julia. Death deprived Petrarch of his beloved Laura very early; as he himself tells us in his Account of his own Life: These are his Words. Amore acerrimo, sed unico & honesto, in Adolescentia laboravi, & diutius laborassem, nisi jam tepescentem ignem mors acerba, sed utilis, extinxisset. See his Works, Basil, Fol. Tom. 1. Yet others say, she married another Person; which is scarce probable; since Petrarch lamented her Death for ten Years afterwards, as appears from Sonetto 313, with a most uncommon Ardour of Passion. Thomasinus in his curious Book, called Petrarcha Redivivus, has given us two Prints of Laura, with an Account of her Family, their Loves, and his sweet Retirement in Vavcluse. As for Spenser, we may conclude that his Love for Rosalinda proved unsuccessful from his pathetical Complaints, in several of his Poems, of her Cruelty. The Author, therefore, thought it only a poetical Kind of Justice to reward them in this imaginary Retreat of Lovers, for the Misfortunes they really suffer'd here, on Account of their Passion.

Liveliness.

Stella; five Amores: Elegiarum Tres Libri. Written in the Year 1736.

Six Pastorals: written in the Year 1734.

Altho'.

Scarcely.

Adorn'd.