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And as a hero, whom his baser foes

In troops surround, now these assails, now those,
Tho' prodigal of life, disdains to die

By common hands; but if he can descry
Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls,
And begs his fate, and then contented falls.
So when the King a mortal shaft lets fly
From his unerring hand, then glad to die,
Proud of the wound, to it resigns his blood,
And stains the crystal with a purple flood.
This a more innocent and happy chase
Than when of old, but in the self-same* place,
Fair Liberty pursu'd, and meant a prey
To lawless pow'r, here turn'd, and stood at bay;
When in that remedy all hope was plac'd
Which was, or should have been at least, the last.
Here was that Charter seal'd wherein the crown
All marks of arbitrary power lays down :
Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear,
The happier style of king and subject bear :
Happy when both to the same centre move,
When kings give liberty and subjects love.
Therefore not long in force this Charter stood:
Wanting that seal, it must be seal'd in blood..

* Runny Mead, where the Magna Charta was first sealed.

The subjects arm'd, the more their princes gave,
Th' advantage only took the more to crave:
Till kings, by giving, gave themselves away,
And ev❜n that power that should deny betray.
Who gives constrain'd, but his own fear reviles,
Not thank'd, but scorn'd; nor are they gifts, but
spoils.'

Thus kings, by grasping more than they could hold,
First made their subjects by oppression bold;

And popular sway, by forcing kings to give
More than was fit for subjects to receive,
Ran to the same extremes; and one excess
Made both, by striving to be greater, less.
When a calm river, rais'd with sudden rains,
Or snows dissolv'd, o'erflows th' adjoining plains,
The husbandmen with high raised banks secure
Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure;
But if with bays and dams they strive to force
His channel to a new or narrow course,
No longer then within his banks he dwells,
First to a torrent, then a deluge, swells;
Stronger and fiercer by restraint, he roars,

And knows no bound, but makes his pow'r his shores.

WINDSOR FOREST.

[POPE.]

Inscribed to Lord Lansdown.

1713.

Non injussa cano: Te nostræ, Vare, myricæ,
Te Nemus omne canet; nec Phœbo gratior ulla est,
Quam sibi quæ Vari præscripsit pagina nomen.

THY
HY forest, Windsor! and thy green retreats,
At once the Monarch's and the Muses' seats,
Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan maids!
Unlock your springs, and open all your shades.
Granville commands; your aid, O Muses, bring!
What Muse for Granville can refuse to sing?

The groves of Eden, vanish'd now so long,
Live in description, and look green in song:
These, were my breast inspir'd with equal flame,
Like them in beauty, should be like in fame.
Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water seem to strive again;
Not chaos-like, together crush'd and bruis'd,
But, as the world, harmoniously confus'd;

Virg

Where order in variety we see,

And where, tho' all things differ, all agree.
Here waving groves a chequer'd scene display,
And part admit, and part exclude the day;
As some coy nymph her lover's warm address,
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress.
There, interspers'd in lawns and op'ning glades,
Thin trees arise, that shun each other's shades.
Here in full light the russet plains extend;
There, wrapt in clouds, the blueish hills ascend.
Ev'n the wild heath displays her purple dyes,
And 'midst, the desert fruitful fields arise,

That, crown'd with tufted trees and springing corn,
Like verdant isles, the sable waste adorn.
Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber, or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms commanded which those trees adorn.
Not proud Olympus yields a nobler sight,
Though Gods assembled grace his tow'ring height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here,
Where, in their blessings, all those Gods appear.
See Pan with flocks; with fruits Pomona crown'd;
Here blushing Flora paints th' enamell'd ground;
Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand;

Rich industry sits smiling on the plains,
And peace and plenty tell, a Stuart reigns

Not thus the land appear'd in ages past, A dreary desert, and a gloomy waste, To savage beasts and savage laws a prey, And kings more furious and severe than they; Who claim'd the skies, dispeopled air and floods; The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods:

Cities laid waste, they storm'd the dens and caves,
(For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves.)
What could be free, when lawless beasts obey'd
And ev❜n the elements a tyrant sway'd?

In vain kind seasons swell'd the teeming grain,
Soft show'rs distill'd, and suns grew warm in vain :
The swain with tears his frustrate labour yields,

And famish'd dies amidst his ripen'd fields..
What wonder then, a beast or subject slain
Were equal crimes in a despotic reign?
Both doom'd alike, for sportive tyrants bled;
But while the subject starv'd, the beast was fed.
Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began,
A mighty hunter, and his prey was man :
Our haughty Norman boasts that barb'rous name,
And makes his trembling slaves the royal game.
The fields are ravish'd from th' industrious swains,
From men their cities, and from gods their fanes :

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