a calendar to his Eclogues, is very beautiful, fince by this, befides that general moral of innocence and fimplicity, which is common to other authors of Paftoral, he has one peculiar to himself. He compares human life to the feveral feafons, and at once expofes to his readers a view of the great and little worlds, in their various changes and afpects. Yet the fcrupulous divifion of his Paftorals into months, has obliged him either to repeat the fame defcription, in other words, for three months together; or, when it was exhaufted before, entirely to omit it: whence it comes to pafs, that fome of his Eclogues (as the fixth, eighth, and tenth, for example) have nothing but their titles to diftinguish them. The reafon is evident, because the year has not that variety in it to furnish every month with a particular description, as it may every season.

Of the following Eclogues I shall only fay, that these four comprehend all the fubjects which the critics upon Theocritus and Virgil will allow to be fit for Pastoral; that they have as much variety of defcription, in refpect of the feveral feafons, as Spenfer's; that in order to add to this variety, the feveral times of the day are obferved, the rural employments in each feafon or time of the day, and the rural scenes or places proper to fuch employments, not with

A S

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TO A DISCOURSE ON PASTORAL POETRY.

out fome regard to the feveral ages of man, and the different paffions proper to each age.

But after all, if they have any merit, it is to be attributed to fome good old Authors, whofe works as I had leifure to study fo, I hope, I have not wanted care to imitate.

SPRING,

THE FIRST PASTORAL.

TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL,

FIRST in thefe fields I try the fylvan strains,

Nor blush to fport on Windfer's blif:ful plains:
Fair Thames! flow gently from thy facred spring,
While on thy banks Sicilian Muses sing;

Let vernal airs thro' trembling ofiers play,

And Albion's cliffs refound the rural lay.

You, that too wife for pride, too good for pow'r, Enjoy the glory to be great no more,

And carrying with you all the world can boast,
To all the world illuftriously are lost!
O let my Mufe her flender reed inspire,
Till in your native shades you tune the lyre!
So when the nightingale to reft removes
The thrush may chant to the forfaken groves;
But, charm'd to filence, liftens while she fings,
And all th' aerial audience clap their wings.

Soon as the flocks shook off the nightly dews, Two fwains, whom Love kept wakeful, and the Muse,

Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care,
Fresh as the morn, and as the season fair:
The dawn now blushing on the mountain's fide,
Thus Daphnis fpoke, and Strephon thus reply'd:

DAPNIS.

Hear how the birds, on ev'ry bloomy spray,
With joyous mufic wake the dawning day!
Why fit we mute when early linnets fing,
When warbling Philomel falutes the spring?
Whitfiy we fad when phosphor shines so clear,
And lavish nature paints the purple year?

STREPH O N.

Sing then, and Damon shall attend the ftrain,
While yon' flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain.
Here on green banks the blushing vi❜lets glow;
Here western winds on breathing roses blow.
I'll take yon' lamb, that near the fountain plays,
And from the brink his dancing shade furveys,

DAPHNI S.

And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines,
And fwelling cluflers bend the curling vines:
Four figures rising from the work, appear
The various feafons of the rolling year;
And what is that, which binds the radiant sky,
Where twelve bright figns in beauteous order lie?

DAMON.

Then fing by turns; by turns the Muses sing.
Now Lawtherns bloffem, now the dailies fpring;

Now leaves the trees, and flow'rs adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall ev'ry note rebound.

STREP HON.

Inspire me, Phoebus! in my Delia's praise,
With Waller's ftrains, or Granville's moving lays:
A milk-white bull shall at your altars ftand,
That threats a fight, and fpurns the rifing fand.

DAPHNI S.

O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize,
And make my tongue victorious as her

eyes; No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart ; Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart.

STREPH ON.

Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain,
Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager fwain;
But feigns a laugh, to see me search around,
And by that laugh the willing fair is found.

DAPHNI S.

The fprightly Sylvia trips along the green ;
She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen;
While a kind glance at her purfuer flies,
How much at variance are her feet and eyes!