The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires,
And savage howlings fill the sacred quires.
Aw'd by his Nobles, by his Commons curst,
Th' Oppressor rul'd tyrannic where he durst,
Stretch'd o'er the Poor and Church his iron rod, 75
And serv'd alike his Vassals and his God.
Whom ev'n the Saxon spar'd, and bloody Dane,
The wanton victims of his sport remain.
But see, the man, who spacious regions gave
A waste for beasts, himself deny'd a grave!

NOTES.

80

Ver. 74.] A fine remain of ancient art and ancient customs, a piece of tapestry, said to be the work of Queen Matilda, is annually exhibited in the cathedral church of Bayeux, in Normandy, representing the expedition of William the Conqueror, and containing a most minute picture of every part of that event, from his landing in England to the battle of Hastings. An engraving of it is given in the tenth volume of the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres. Warton.

Ver. 80.] In St. Foix's entertaining historical Essays on Paris, it is related, p. 95, tom. 5, that just as the body of William I. was going to be put into the grave, a voice cried aloud, "I forbid his interment. When William was only Duke of Normandy, he seized this piece of Land from my father, on which he built this abbey of St. Stephen, without making me a recompence, which I now demand." Prince Henry, who was present, called out the man, who was only a common farrier, and agreed to give him an hundred crowns for this burial-place. Except the former conquest of England by the Saxons, (says Hume, vol. 1.) who were induced, by peculiar circumstances, to proceed even to the extermination of the natives, it would be difficult to find in all history, a revolution

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 72. And wolves with howling fill, &c.]

The author thought this an error, wolves not being common in England at the time of the Conqueror.

P.

Stretch'd on the lawn his second hope survey,
At once the chaser, and at once the prey:
Lo Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart,
Bleeds in the forest like a wounded hart.
Succeeding monarchs heard the subjects' cries, 85
Nor saw displeas'd the peaceful cottage rise:
Then gath'ring flocks on unknown mountains fed,
O'er sandy wilds were yellow harvests spread,
The forest wonder'd at th' unusual grain,

And secret transports touch'd the conscious swain.

NOTES.

a revolution more destructive, or attended with a more complete subjection of the ancient inhabitants. Warton.

The circumstance of William's laying waste so much territory is very doubtful. I believe the fact can be disproved. Bowles. Ver. 81. second hope.] Richard, second son of William the Conqueror. Warburton.

Ver. 83.] The moment Walter Tyrrel had shot him, without speaking of the accident, he instantly hastened to the sea-shore and embarked for France, and from thence hurried to Jerusalem to do penance for his involuntary crime. The body of Rufus was found in the forest by a countryman, whose family are still said to be living near the spot, and was buried, without any pomp, before the altar of Winchester cathedral, where the monument still remains. Though the Monkish historians, who hated him, may perhaps have exaggerated his vices, yet he seems really to have been a violent, prodigal, proud, perfidious, ungenerous, and tyrannical prince. There was however something of magnificence in his building the Tower, Westminster-hall, and London-bridge. Warton.

The oak, under which Rufus was shot, was standing till within these few years.

IMITATIONS.

Bowles.

Ver. 89. "Miraturque novas frondes et non sua poma." Virg.

Fair Liberty, Britannia's Goddess, rears,

Her chearful head, and leads the golden years.
Ye vig'rous swains! while youth ferments your
blood,

And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood,
Now range the hills, the gameful woods beset, 95
Wind the shrill horn, or spread the waving net.
When milder autumn summer's heat succeeds,
And in the new-shorn field the partridge feeds,
Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds,
Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd grounds;
But when the tainted gales the game betray,
Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey;
Secure they trust th' unfaithful field beset,
'Till hov'ring o'er them sweeps the swelling net.
Thus (if small things we may with great compare)
When Albion sends her eager sons to war,
Some thoughtless Town, with ease and plenty blest,
Near, and more near, the closing lines invest;

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 91.

O may no more a foreign master's rage,
With wrongs yet legal, curse a future age!

Still spread, fair Liberty! thy heav'nly wings,

Breathe plenty on the fields, and fragrance on the springs. P. Ver. 97.

When yellow autumn summer's heat succeeds,

And into wine the purple harvest bleeds,'
The partridge feeding in the new-shorn fields,

Both morning sports and ev'ning pleasures yields.

1 Perhaps the Author thought it not allowable to describe the season by a circumstance not proper to our climate, the vintage.

P.

Sudden they seize th' amaz'd, defenceless prize,
And high in air Britannia's standard flies.

110

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant

springs,

And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Ah! what avail his glossy, varying dyes,
His purple crest, and scarlet-circled eyes,

115

The vivid green his shining plumes unfold,
His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold?
Nor yet, when moist Arcturus clouds the sky,
The woods and fields their pleasing toils deny. 120
To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair,
And trace the mazes of the circling hare:
(Beasts, urg'd by us, their fellow-beasts pursue,
And learn of man each other to undo.)

With slaught'ring guns th' unweary'd fowler roves,
When frosts have whiten'd all the naked groves;
Where doves in flocks the leafless trees o'ershade,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'ry glade.

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 107. It stood thus in the first Editions:

Pleas'd in the Gen'ral's sight, the host lie down
Sudden before some unsuspecting town;

The young, the old, one instant makes our prize,

And o'er their captive heads Britannia's standard flies. Ver. 126. O'er rustling leaves around the naked groves. This is a better line.

Warton.

IMITATIONS.

Ver. 115.

66

nec te tua plurima, Pantheu, Labentem pietas, vel Apollinis insula texit."

Virg. Warburton.

He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye;
Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: 130
Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath,

The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death:
Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

In genial spring, beneath the quiv'ring shade,
Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead,
The patient fisher takes his silent stand,

Intent, his angle trembling in his hand:
With looks unmov'd, he hopes the scaly breed,
And eyes the dancing cork, and bending reed. 140
Our plenteous streams a various race supply,
The bright-ey'd perch with fins of Tyrian dye,
The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd,
The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with gold,
Swift trouts, diversify'd with crimson stains, 145
And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.

Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car:
The youth rush eager to the sylvan war,
Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround,
Rouze the fleet hart, and cheer the opening hound.
Th' impatient courser pants in ev'ry vein,

And pawing, seems to beat the distant plain :

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 129. The fowler lifts his levell'd tube on high.

IMITATIONS.

P.

Ver. 134. "Præcipites alta vitam sub nube relinquunt." Virg. Ver. 151. Th' impatient courser, &c.] Translated from Statius, "Stare adeo miserum est, pereunt vestigia mille

Ante fugam, absentemque ferit gravis ungula campum." These lines Mr. Dryden, in his preface to his translation of Fres

noy's