O'er all the plains, the ftreams, and woods around, The pleasing lays of sweetest Bards refound; And listening River-Gods neglect their urns. A double wreath of laurel binds their brow, Hill; Old Chaucer from th' Elyfian Fields looks down, And fees at length a genius like his own; Charm'd with his lays, which reach the shades below, Fair Rofamonda intermits her woe, Forgets the anguifh of an injur'd foul, The great benefactor to All-fouls College. N. Apollo fmiles on Magd'len's peaceful bowers, Perfumes the air, and paints the grot with flowers, Where Yalden learn'd to gain the myrtle crown, Applauded man! for weightier trusts design'd, So Latian Fields will ceafe to boast thy praise, "Shall, in the fmooth defcription, murmur New beauties fhall adorn our fylvan scene, * Letter from Italy, by Mr. Addison. T. The Phyfic-garden at Oxford. This hint was happily taken-up in 1713 by Dr. Evans. See Select Collection, 1780, vol. III. p. 145. N. Apollo Apollo here fhould plenteously impart, Can-break his arrows, and can blunt his teeth. There fam'd Achilles learns to live again, And looks yet angry in the mimic scene; Here artful birds, which blooming arbours fhew, Seem to fly higher, whilst they upwards grow, From the fame leaves both arms and warriors ‚****; rise, And every bough a different charm fupplies. So when our world the great Creator made, And, unadorn'd, the fluggish chaos laid, Horror and Beauty own'd their fire the fame, And Form itself from Parent Matter came, That lumpish mass alone was fource of all, a *And Bards and Themes had one original. In vain the groves demand my longer ftay, The gentle Ifis wafts the Mufe away. MA With ease the river guides her wandering stream, thrown, And made the various bleffings all our own! Nor crowns, nor globes, the pageantry of state, Upon our humble, easy flumbers wait; Nor aught that is Ambition's lofty theme Disturbs our fleep, and gilds the gaudy dream. Touch'd by no ills which vex th' unhappy great, We only read the changes in the state, Triumphant Marlborough's arms at diftance hear, And learn from Fame the rough events of war; With pointed rhymes the Gallic tyrant pierce, And make the cannon thunder in our verse. See how the matchlefs youth their hours improve, And in the glorious way to knowledge movet Eager for fame, prevent the rifing fun, Not tender years their bold attempts restrain, Some learn the mighty deeds of ages gone, And, by the lives of heroes, form their own; Now view the Granique choak'd with heaps of flain, And warring worlds on the Pharfalian plain; And bid fome long-loft empire rear its ancient head. Others, to whom perfuafive arts belong (Words in their looks, and mufic on their tongue), Inftructed by the wit of Greece and Rome, |