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Amid the folitary wild,

Luxuriant gardens gaily fmil'd:

From fapphire rocks the fountains stream'd,
With golden fruit the branches beam'd;
Fair forms, in every wondrous wood,
Or lightly tripp'd, or folemn stood;

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"fecret Spell, the fantastic scene breaks up, and the difconfolate

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knight finds himself on a barren beath, or in a folitary foreft."
Spectator, No. 413. Akenfide of course imitated Addison.

V. 79. From sapphire rocks the fountains ftream'd,] Par. Loft,

iv. 237:

How from that faphir fount the crisped brooks

Ran nectar, &c.

V. 80. With golden fruit the branches beam'd;] See also below,

ver. 91:

Dun clouds obfcur'd the groves of gold,

Blue lightning fmote the blooming mold.

And compare Par. Loft, iv. 148:

Bloffoms, and fruits at once of golden hue.

And ver. 219:

-blooming ambrofial fruit

Of vegetable gold.

And 249:

Others whofe fruit burnifh'd with golden rind
Hung amiable.

In Comus, "Laden with blooming gold," ver. 394. See also Grave
of Arthur," In groves of golden bliss," ver. 110.

V. 81. Fair forms, in every wondrous wood,
Or lightly tripp'd, or folemn ftood ;]

From Par. Regained, ii. 353:

-diftant more

Under the trees now tripp'd, now folemn ftood
Nymphs of Diana's train, &c.

And oft, retreating from the view,
Betray'd, at diftance, beauties new:
While gleaming o'er the crisped bowers
Rich fpires arofe, and fparkling towers.
If bound on fervice new to go,
The mafter of the magic fhow,
His tranfitory charm withdrew,
Away th' illufive landscape flew :
Dun clouds obfcur'd the groves of gold,
Blue lightning fmote the blooming mold:

Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled fince
Of faery damfels.

V. 85.

the crifped bowers] Comus, ver. 984:

Along the crifped fhades and bowers.

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V. 90. Dun clouds] So the word is ufed by Shakfpere, in Lady Macbeth's awful invocation, to fignify exceffive gloominess:

-Come, thick night!

And pall thee in the dunneft fmoke of hell.

On which Dr. Johnson's remark in No. 168. of the Rambler is unaccountable. It is used in the same manner by Fairfax : The horrid darkness and the fhadows dun.

And by Milton:

In the dun air fublime. Par. Loft, iii. 72.

See Mr. Thyer's note.

Taff. ix. 62.

V. 92. Blue lightning fmote the blooming mold:] The word "smote" thus applied, as it has been several times by our poet, is Miltonic:

Both where the morning fun first warmly fmote

The open field. Par. Loft, iv. 244.

On which fee Mr. Thyer's note in Newton's edition, where it is referred to the Italians. Compare alfo Par. Loft, i. 297:

In vifionary glory rear'd,

The

gorgeous castle disappear'd;

And a bare heath's unfruitful plain
Ufurp'd the wifard's proud domain.

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-the torrid clime

Smote on him fore befides.

Fletcher in the Faithful Shepberdefs ufes the fame figure with a

different expreffion, Act iv.

When the hot fun beats on it.

O DE VIII.

MORNING.

THE AUTHOR CONFINED TO COLLEGE.

Scribimus inclufi.

PERS. Sat. I. ver. 13.

(Written in 1745, his 17th year. Published in 1750, in the

ONCE

Student.)

more the vernal fun's ambrofial beams The fields as with a purple robe adorn: Cherwell, thy fedgy banks and glift'ring streams

All laugh and fing at mild approach of morn; Thro' the deep groves I hear the chaunting birds, 5 And thro' the clover'd vale the various-lowing herds.

Up mounts the mower from his lowly thatch, Well pleas'd the progress of the spring to mark,

V. 5. Thro' the deep groves I hear the chaunting birds,] See the Faerie Queene, where "a pleasant grove" is described,

Therein the merry birds, of ev'ry sort,

Chaunted aloud their cheerful harmony. II. v. 31.

And Par. Reg. ii. 289:

Only in a bottom faw a pleasant grove,

With chant of tuneful birds refounding loud.

The fragrant breath of breezes pure to catch, And startle from her couch the early lark; 10 More genuine pleasure foothes his tranquil breast, Than high-thron'd kings can boast, in eastern glory dreft.

The penfive poet thro' the green-wood steals, Or treads the willow'd marge of murmuring brook;

Or climbs the steep ascent of airy hills;

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There fits him down beneath a branching oak, Whence various fcenes, and profpects wide below,

Still teach his musing mind with fancies high to glow.

But I nor with the day awake to blifs, (Inelegant to me fair Nature's face,

A blank the beauty of the morning is,

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And grief and darkness all for light and grace;)

Nor bright the fun, nor green the meads appear, Nor colour charms mine eye, nor melody mine

ear.

Me, void of elegance and manners mild, With leaden rod, ftern Discipline restrains;

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