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In the elear azure gleam the flocks are feen,
And floating forefits paint the waves with green ;
Thro' the fair seene roll flow the ling’ring freams.
Then foaming pour along, and rush into the Thames.

Thou, 100, great father of the British floods !
With joyful pride survey'l our lofty woods ;
Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours, rear,
And future navies on thy shores appear :
Not Neptune's self from all her ftreams receives
A wealthier tribute than to thine he gives.
No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear,
No lake fo gentle, and no spring fo clear ;
Nor Po so swells the fabling Poet's lays,
While led along the skies his current strays,
As thine, which vifits Windsor's fam'd abodes,
To grace the mansion of our earthly Gods ;
Nor all his stars above a luftre fhew
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below ;
Where Jove, subdued by mortal passion fill,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.

Happy the man whom this bright Court approves,
His fou'reign favours, and his country loves :
Happy, next him, who to these shades retires,
Whom Nature charms, and whom the Muse inspires;
Whom humbler jays of home-felt quiet please,
Successive study, exercile, and ease.
He gathers health froin herbs the forest yields,
And of their fragrant phyfic fpoils the fields ;

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With chemic arts exalts the min'ral pow'rs,'
And draws the aromatic fouls of low'rs: ::
Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high ;
O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye ;
of ancient writ unlocks the learned flore,
Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'ers!!
Or wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood,
Attends the duties of the wife and good,
T'obferve a mean, be to himself a friend, A minh
To follow nature, and regard his end :: 5 :: w3
Or looks on heaven with more than mortal eye; *:: 93
Bids his free foul expatiate in the skies, poor, 26 ás und
Amid her kindred stars familiar roam, ili s tisz?
Survey the region, and confess her home kw.com
Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd'; 15)..
Thus Atticus, and Trumbal thus, retir'da Sell

Ye sacred Nine! that all my foul poffefs,
Whose
raptures

fire

me, and whose visions bless." Bear me, oh bear me to sequeker'd scenes, The bow'ry mazes, and surrounding greens ; To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye Muses sport on Cooper's Hill (On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths thall grow, While lafts the mountain, or while Thames fall flow). I seem thro? consecrated walks to rove, · I hear soft music die along the grove : Led by the found, I roam from shade to sbade, By godlike poets venerable made :

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Here his firft lays majectic Denham sung :
There the last numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue.
O early lost! what tears the river shed,

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When the sad pomp along his banks was led ! :sm wong
His drooping fwans on ev'ry notc'expire,
And on his willows húng each Mufe's tyre."

Since fate relentless stopp'd their heavenly voice,
No more the forelts ring, or groves rejoice ;
Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley Atrung
His living harp, and lofty Denham sung !
But hark! the groves rejoice, the forest rings!
Are these revivid ? or is it Granville fings?
'Tis yours, my Lord, to bless our foft retreats,
And call the Muses to their ancient seats; m'?
To paint anew the flow'ry fýlvan scenes, no gisa
To crown the forests with immortal

greens,
Make Windfor hills in lofty numbers rises
And lift her turrets nearer to the skies';
To sing those honours you deferve to wear,
And add new luftre to her filver star.
Here noble Surrey felt the facted rage,
Surrey, the Granville of a former

age :
Matchless his pen, victorious was his fance,
Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance :
In the same shades the Cupids tun'd' kis'lyre,
To the same notes, of love, and soft defire';

: , Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow, ...I Then fill?d the groves, as hcavenly Mira now." veio

''Oh

Oh would thou sing what heroes Windsor bore;
What kings first breath'd upon her winding shore ;
Orraise old warriors, whose ador'd remains
In weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains :
With Edward's acts adorn the thining page,
Stretch his long triumphs down thro' ev'ry age.
Draw monarchs chain'd, and Crelli's glorious field,
The lilies blazing on the regal fhield :
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,
Still in thy fong-thould vanquilh'd France appear,
And bleed for ever under Britain's fpear.

Let fofter strains ill-fated Henry mourn,
And palms eternal flourish round his urn,
Here o'er the Martyr King the marble weeps,
And, fast beside him, once-fear'd Edward fleeps :
Whom not th' extended Albion could contain,
From old Belerium to the northern main,
The grave unites ; where e'en the

great

find rest. And blended lie th' oppressor and th' opprest !

Make sacred Charles's tomb for ever known, fObscure the place, and uninscrib'd the stone). Oh fact accurs'd! what tears has Albion shed! Heavens! what new wounds! and how her old have bled! She saw her sons with purple deaths expire, Her facred domes involv'd in rolling fire, A dreadful series of intelline wars, Inglorious triumphs, and dishoneft scars.

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At length great Anna faid— Lei discord cease!'
She said, the world obey'd, and all was peace!
In that blest moment from his

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bed Old father Thames advanc'd his rev’rend head; His tresses dropp’d with dews, and o'er the stream His shining horns diffus'd a golden gleam : Gravid on his urn appear’d the moon, that guides His swelling waters and alternate tides ; The figur'd streams in waves of silver rolld, And on their banks Augusta rose in gold ; Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood, Who swell with tributary urns his flood! First, the fam’dáuthors of his ancient name, The winding Isis, and the fruitful Thame; X The Kennet swift, for silver eels renown’d; The Loddon flow, with verdant alders crown'd; Cole, whose clear Itreams his flow'ry islands lave ; And chalky Wey, that rolls á milky wave: The blue, transparent Vandalis appears ; The gulphy Lee his sedgy treffes rears ; And fullen Mole, that hides his diving flood; And silent Darent, 'stain’d with Danish blood.

High in the midit, upon his urn reclin'd, His sea-green mantle waving with the wind, The God appear'd': 'he túrn d his azure eyes Where Windsor's domes and pompoús turrets rise ! Then bow'd and spoke; the winds forget to roar, And the hush'd waves glide softly to the shore. Vol. VI. 22.

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Hail,

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