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But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie,
And liberty unbars her prison-door,
And, like a rushing torrent, out they fly;
And now the grassy cirque han cover'd o'er
With boilt'rous revel-rout and wild uproar ;
A thousand ways in wanton rings they run,
Heav'n fhield their short-liv'd pastimes, I implore !

For well may freedom, erst so dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladsome than the sun.

Enjoy, poor imps ! enjoy your sportive trade;
And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs,
For, when my bones in grass-green fods are laid ;
For never may ye taste more careless hours
· In nightly castles, or in ladies bow'rs.
O vain to seek delight in earthly thing!
But most in courts, where proud ambition tow'rs!

Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kesar or of king.

See in each sprite fome various bent appear!
These rudely carol most incondite lay;
Those fauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the stranger pafing on his way;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay ;
Some to the standing lake their courses bend,
With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play ;

Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,
In pastry kings and queens th' allotted mite to spend, :

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Here, as each season yields a diff'rent store,
Each season's stores in order ranged been ;
Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er,
Galling full sore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen;
And goose-b’rie clad in liv'ry red or green ;
And here, of lovely dye, the cath’rine pear,
Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween:

O may no wight e'er pennyless come there,
Left, smit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care!

See! cherries here, ère cherries yet abound,
With thread fo white in tempting pofies tyd,
Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round,
With pamper'd look draw little eyes aside;
And must be bought, though penury betide.
The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown,
And here, each season, do those cakes abide,

Whose honour'd names th' inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ille Salopia's praises known.

Admir'd Salopia! that, with venial pride,
Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambiant wave,
Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd,
Her daughters lovely, and her striplings brave :
Ah! midst the rest, may flow'rs adorn his grave,
Whose art did first these dulcet cates display !
A motive fair to learning's imps he gave,

Who chearless o'er her darkling region stray ;
Tiltreason's morn arise and light them on their way.

COOPER'S

COOPER's

HILL,

This poem, by Denham, though it may have been

exceeded by later attempts in description, yet deserves the highest applause, as it far surpasses all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very mas. terly.

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SUR

URE there are poets which did never dream

Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream
Of Helicon ; we, therefore, may suppose
Those made not poets, but the poets those.
And, as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So, where the muses and their train resort,
Parnassus stands; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnassus art to me.
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy auspicious height)
Through untrac'd ways and airy paths I fiy,
More boundless in my fancy than my eye ;
My eye, which, swift as thought, contra&s the space
That lies between, and first falutes the place
Crown'd with that sacred pile, so vast, so high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth, or sky,
Uncertain seems, and may be thought a proud
Aspiring mountain, or descending cloud;

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Paul's, the late theme of such a * muse, whose flight
Has bravely reach'd and foar'd above thy height:
Now shalt thou stand, tho' sword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal, more fierce than they, thy fall conspire ;
Secure, whilst thee the best of poets fings,
Preserv'd from ruin by the best of kings.
Under his proud survey the city lies,
And, like a mist, beneath a hill doth rise ;
Whose state and wealth, the business and the crowd,
Seems, at this distance, but a darker cloud :
And is, to him who rightly things esteems,
No other in effect than what it seems ;
Where, with like haste, tho: sev'ral ways they run,
Some to undo, and some to be undone ;
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the other's ruin, and increase ;
As rivers lost in seas, fome secret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be lost again.
Oh happiness of sweet retir'd content !
To be ai once secure, and innocent.
Windsor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with strength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itielf present
With such an easy and unforc'd ascent,
That no stupendious precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes ;
But such a rise, as doth at once invite
A pleasure, and a rev'rence from the fight.

. Mr. Waller.

Thy

Thy mighty master's emblem, in whose face
Sate meekness, heightend with majestic grace;
Such seems thy gentle height, made only proud
To be the basis of that pompous load,
Than which, a nobler weight no mountain bears,
But Atlas only, which supports the spheres.
When nature's hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wiser power than Chance ;
Mark'd out for such an use, as if 'twere meant
T' invite the builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when, what we chuse,
Folly or blindness only cou'd refuse.
A crown of such majestic tow'rs does grace
The gods great mother, when her heav'nly race
Do homage to her; yet she cannot boast,
Among that num'rous and celestial hoft,
More heroes than can Windsor ; nor doth Fame's
Immortal book record more noble names.
Not to look back so far, to whom this ille
Owes the first glory of so brave a pile,
Whether to Cæsar, Albanact, or Brute,
The British Arthur, or the Danish Knute,
(Tho' this, of old, no less contest did move,
Than when, for Homer's birth, fev'n cities ftrove)
(Like him in birth, thou hould't be like in fame,
As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame)
But whosoe'er it was, nature design'd
First a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount those sev'ral kings, to whom
It gave a cradle, or to whom a tomb,
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