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DAPHNE. Take all, and ease me of the pain.
Shall I return-orvo?
Charms yet unknown surround me;
Yet, Love, thou ne'er shalt wound me,
No more alarm my breast. When I was a maiden of twenty,
Then let me haste to go And my charms and my lovers were plenty,
Ah no, my heart replies Ah! why did I ever say non
In tender heaving sighsNow the swains, though I court them, all-fly me, Ye Powers restore my rest. I sigh, but no lover comes nigh me;
APOL. O do not go Ye virgins, be waru'd by my woe!
DAPHI. Dost thou not know,
I'm of Diana's train?
Thy love forbear-
APOL. Thy scorn forbear
DAPH. I must not hcar: Dost thou repent thou once wert wise?
APOL. O stay and hear; Tender hearts to every passion
DAPH. Thy love ? is vain. Still thcir freedom would betray,
APOL. Thy flight But how całm is inclination,
[Erit Daphne pursued by Apollo. When our reason, bears the sway! Swains themselves, while they pursue us,
SCENE CHANGES TO
Re-enter Daphne, looking back as affrighted. If we grow too fond, they fly.
He comes—the swift pursuer comes- where Yet might I see one courting swain,
Shall I escape his piercing sight, Though but to slight him once again!
Where hide me from the god of light?
Ah! 'tis in vain-he's here.
(Daphne runs to the side of the river, and as 'Tis well to leave them at threescore.
she sings the following air is transformed Hasto then, and at th' appointed place,
into a laurel-tree.) See if the nymphs expect me for the chase.
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
Let some sudden change invade me, (A symphony of intruments is heard, whilst Apollo Fix me rooted on thy shore.
descends in the chariot of the Sun; a crown of Cease, Apollo, to persuade me,
I am Daphne now no more.
[Apollo enters at the latter end of the ait, What sounds celestial strike my ear!
and is met by Peneus. ] Why does the golden source of light
APOLLO. Pour out new day?--how wondrous bright !
O fatal flight!-O curst disdain! Some god descends to human sight;
O Peneus, how shall we our loss deplore;
The trembling branches yet her shape retain ! Daphne, on Phæbus fix thy eye,
Though Daphne lives a nymph no more, With meaner shapes deceiv'd no more!
She lives, fair verdant plant, in thee: Know, I thy beauteous form adore:
Henceforth be thou Apollo's tree, Wilt thou a god, a god that loves thee, ily?
And hear what honours to thy leaves remain. (Apollo strikes his lyre, and Daphne tums back
No thunder e'er shall blast thy boughs, as surprised at the sound.]
Preserv'd to grace Apollo's brows,
Kings, victors, poets, to adorn; Fairest mortal! stay and hear,
Oft in Britannia's isle thy prosperous green Tum thee, leave thy trembling fear!
Shall on the heads of her great chiefs be seen, Cannot Love with Music join'd
And by a Nassau, and a George, be worn.
Still Peneus, with a father's care,
Shall feed thee from his flowing urn Hark how the river-shores prolong
With verdure ever fresh and fair,
Nor this thy destin'd change shall mourn.
CHORUS, OR DUETTO OP APOLLO AND PENEUS, And seem my secret soul to know
Nature alone can love inspire, DAPA. (aside.) Alas! my rash, my fatal vow!
Art is vain to move desir'. APOL. Wilt thou alone unmov'd remain?
If Nature once the fair incline,
To their own passion thry resigns (As Daphne is going out, she stops and sings Nature alone can love inspire, the following air.
Art is vain to move desire.
THE SOCIETY OF
Nor yet, O Fame, dost thou display
All the triumphs of this day; FOR THE BIRTI-DAY OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE
More wonders yet arise to sight:
See! o'er these rites what mighty power presides, PRINCESS OF WALES,
Behold, to thee his early steps he guides;
Henceforth, when to the listening Universe
Thou numberist o'er my princes of renown,
The second hope of Britain's crown,
And tell of Cressy's well-fought plain,
Thy golden trumpet sound again!
The brave Augustus shall renew thy strain, ESTABLISHED IN HONOUR OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS's And Oudenarda's fight immortalize the verse. BIRTH DAY, AND OF TIIE PRINCIPALITY OF WALES.
AIR, WITH A HARP. Salve lata dies ! meliorque revertere semper,
Heavenly Muses ! tune your lyres,
Grace the hero's glorious namo.
Every breast, with joy abounding,
Seems to share the hero's flame.
O thou, with every virtue orown'd,
Britannia's father, and her king renown'd!
Thus in thy offspring greatly blest,
While, through th' extended royal line,
Thou seest thy propagated lustre shine,
What secret raptures fill thy breast !
When, in the diamond, with full blaze,
He views his own paternal rays,
And all his bright reflected day.
Hail, source of blessings to our isle!
While gioomy clouds shall take their flight, The goddess of immortal Fame
Shot through by thy victorious light,
To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
And, with thy trumpet's swelling sound,
To all Britannia's realms around, To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day !
The double festival proclaim.
The goddess of immortal Fame
Shall, with her trumpet's swelling sound,
To all Britannia's realms around
The double festival proclaim.
O'er Cambria's distant hilis let the loud notes reAnd with new beams adorn thy azure skies!
bound! Though on her virtues I should ever dwell,
Each British soul be rais'd, and every eye be gay!
Detraction from her presence flies;
EXTRACT OF A LETTER
MR. HUGHES TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR
"Tous little pocm was vrit by the acciden: Happy isle! such gifts possessing !
of having Horace for my companion in a confineBritain, ever own the blessing!
inent by sickness, and fancying I had discovered Carolina's charms are thine,
a new sense of one of his odus, for which I have
found your lordship’s great indulgence and parti- , Whether the Muse vouchsafe t inspire ality to me, the best exposition.
My breast with the celestial fire; “ Perhaps we never read with that attention, as Whether my verse be fill’d with flame, when we think we have found something applicable Or I deserve a poet's name, to ourselves. I am now grown fond enough of Let Fame be silent; only tell this sense to believe it the true one, and have drawn | That generous Cowper loves me well. two or three learned friends (to whom I have men- Through Britain's realms I shall be known tioned it) into my opinion.
" The ode, your lordship will see, is that in By Cowper's merit, not my own. which Horace feigns himself turned into a swan.
And when the tomb my dust shall hide, It passes (for aught I know universally) for a com
Stripp'd of a mortal's little pride, pliment on himself, and a mere enthusiastic rant
Vain pomp be spar'd, and every tear; of the poet in his own praise, like his Exegi mo
Let but some stone this sculpture bear: Dumentum, &c. I confess, I had often slightly
“ Here lies his clay, to earth consign'd, read it in that view, and have found every one í To whom great Cowper once was kind.” hare lately asked, deceived by the same opinion, which I cannot but think spoils the ode, and sinks it to nothing; I had almost said, turns the swan into a goose.
WHAT IS MAN? * The grammarians seem to have fallen into this mistake, by wholly overlooking the reason of his O son of man! O creature of a day! rapture, viz. its being addressed to Mæcenas; and Proud of vain wisdom, with false greatness gay! have prefaced it with this, and the like general lleir of thy father's vice, to whose bad store inscriptions—Vaticinatur carminum suorum im- Thy guilty days are spent in adding more ; mortalitatem, &c. which I think is not the sub- Thou propagated folly!--what in thee jert.
Could Heaven's Supreme, could perfect Wisdom see, “I am very happy in the occasion which showed To fix one glance of his regarding eye? it me in a quite different sense from what I had Why art thou chose the favourite of the sky? ever apprehended, till I had the honour to be While angels wonder at the mercy known, known to your lordship; I am sure a much more
And scarce the wretch himself the debt immense avantageous one to the poet, as well as more just
will own! to his great patron. If I have exceeded the liberty ef an imitator, in pursuing the same hint further, to make it less doubtful, yet his favourers will for
BOILEAU, give me, when I own, I have not on this occasion so much thought of emulating his poetry, as of rivaling his pride, by the ambition of being known POURQUOI ces elephans, ces armes, ce bagage, as, my lord,
Et ces vaisseaux tout prests à quitter le rivage ? your lordship's most obliged,
Disoit au roi Pyrrhus, un sage confident,
J. HUGHES. Je vais, lui dit ce prince, à Rome où l'on m'apelle
Quoi faire? L'assieger. L'enterprise est fort belle,
Et digne seulement d'Alexandre ou de vous,
Mais quand nous l'aurons prise, eh bien, que ferons-
Sans doute, ils sont à nous : est-ce tout ? La Sicile
Delà nous tend les bras, & bien-tost sans effort
En demeurés-vous là ? Dés que nous l'aurons prise, IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XX, Il ne faut qu'un bon vent & Carthage est conquise : I've rais'd, transported, chang'd all o'er!
Les chemins sont ouverts: qui peut nous arrester? Prepar'd, a towering swan, to soar
Je vous entens, seigneur, nous allons tout dompter ! Aloft: see, see the down arise,
Nous allons traverser les sables de Lybie; And clothe my back, and plume my thighs !
Asservir en passant l’Egypte, l'Arabie; My wings shoot forth, now will I try
Courir delà le Gange en de nouveaux païs; Nex tracks, and boldly mount the sky;
Faire trembler le Scythe aux bords du Tanais; Nor Envy, nor Ill-fortune's spite,
Et ranger sous nos loix tout ce vaste Hemisphere; Stall stop my course, or damp my flight.
Mais de retour enfin, que pretendez-vous faire?
Alors, cher Cincas, victorieux, contens, Shall I, obscure or disesteemid,
Nous pourrons rirc à l'aise, & prendre du bon temps. Of vulgar rank henceforth be deem'd ?
Hé, seigneur, des ce jo:ur, sans sortir de l'Fpire, Or rainly toil my name to save
Du matin jusqu'au soir qui vous défend de rire?
“What mean these clephants, arms, warlike store, No coumon wreath shall bind my brow.
And all these ships, prepar'd to leave the shore sro
DANS SA I. EPISTRE AU ROY.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
IN 1118 FIRST EPISTLE TO LEWIS XIV.
Thus Cyneas, faithful, old, experienc'd, wise, Begin, and Echo shall the song repeat ; Address'd king Pyrrhus ;--thus the king replies: While, skreen'd from August's feverish heat, “ 'Tis glory calls us hence; to Rome we go." Beneath this spreading elm I lie, “ For what?"_" To conquer.”—“Rome's a noble And view the yellow harvest far around, A prize for Alexander fit, or you:
[foe, The neighbouring fields with pienty crown'd, But, Rome reduc'd, what next, sir, will you do?”. And, over head, a fair unclouded sky. “ The rest of Italy my chains shall wear,"
The wood, the park's romantic scene, “ And is that all?"_" No, Sicily lies near;
The deer, that, innocent and gay, See how she stretches out her beauteous arms,
On the soft turf's perpetual green And tempts the victor with unguarded charms!
Pass all their lives in love and play, In Syracusa's port this fleet shall ride.”—
Are various objects of delight, “ 'Tis well-and there you will at last abide ?"
That sport with fancy, and invite “ No; that subdu'd, again'we'll hoist our sails,
Your aid, the pleasure to complete : And put to sea; and, blow but prosperous gales, Begin-and Echo shall the song repeat. Carthage must soon be ours, an casy prey,
Hark!--the kind inspiring powers The passage open : what obstructs our way?"
Answer from their secret bowers, “Then, sir, your vast design I understand,
Propitious to my call! To conquer all the earth, cross seas and land,
They join their choral voices all, O'er Afric's spacious wilds your reign extend,
To charm my solitary hours. Beneath your sword make proud Arabia bend;
“ Listen,” they cry, " thou pensive swain! Then seek remoter worlds, where Ganges pours
Though much the tuneful sisters love His swelling stream; beyond Hydaspes' shores,
The fields, the park, the shady grove: Through Iudian realms to carry dire alarms,
The fields, and park, and shady grove, And make the hardy Scythian dread your arms.
The tuneful sisters now disdain, But say—this wondrous race of glory ron,
And choose to soothe thee with a sweeter strain : When we return, say, what shall then be done?”
Molinda's praises shall our skill employ, " Then, pleas'd, my friend, we'll spend the joyful Molinda, Nature's pride, and every Muse's joy! day
The Muses triumph'd at her birth, In full delight, and laugh our cares away."
When, first descending from her parent Skies, “ And why not now? Alas! sir, need we roam
This star of beauty shot to Earth. For this so far, or quit our native home?
Love saw the fires that darted from her eyes, No—let us now each valued hour employ,
He saw, and smil'd—the winged boy Nor, for the future, lose the present joy,"
Gave early omens of her conquering fame,
And to his mother lisp'd her name,
“ Molinda!”—Nature's pride, and every Muse's jog, AV IMAGE OF PLEASURE,
Say, beauteous Asted! has thy honour'd shade
Ever receiv'd that lovely maid?
That'shining festal day of happiness !
For if the lovely maid was here, On this fair poplar bough I'll hang thee high,
April himself, though in so fair a dress While the gay fields all soft delights inspire,
He clothes the meads, though his delicious shower And not one cloud deforms the smiling sky.
Awake the blossoms and the breathing flowers, While whispering gales, that court the leaves and And new-create the fragrant year; flowers,
April himself, or brighter May, Play thro'thy strings, and gently make them sound, Assisted by the god of day, Luxurious l'il dissolve the flowing hours
Never made your grove so gay, In balmy slumbers on the carpet ground.
Or half so full of charms appear.
Whatever rural seat she now doth grace, But see--what sudden gloom obscures the air!
And shines a goddess of the plains, What falling showers, impetuous, change the day! Let's rise, my Lyre—Ah, Pleasure, false as fair! Imperial Love new triumphs there ordains,
Removes with her from place to place, How faithless are thy charms, how short thy stay!
With her he keeps his court, and where she liver
There circling Pleasure ever flows:
Friendship, and Arts, a well-selected store,
Good-humour, Wit, and Music's soft delight, Ye.Musas, that frequent these walks and shades,
The shorten'd minutes there beguile,
And sparkling Mirth, that never looks so bright, Which Howard's happy genius chose;
As when it lightens in Molinda's smile.
Thither, ye guardian powers (if such there are, Sweet amorous voluntaries sung!
Deputed from the sky O say, ye kind inspiring powers !
To watch o'er human-kind with friendly care), With what melodious strain
Tbither, ye gentle spirits, fly! Will you indulge my pensive vein,
If goodness, like your own, can move And charm my solitary hours?
Your constant zeal, your tenderest love,
IN IMITATION OF AN ODE IN CASIMIRE,
For ever wait on this accomplish'd fair! The watery world beheld, with pic.us'd surprise. Shield her from every ruder breath of air, O'er its wide waste new tracks of light arise; Nor let invading Sickness come
The winds were hush'd, the floods forgot to move, To blast those beauties in their bloom. And Nature own'd the auspicious queen of love. May no misguided choice, no hapless doom, Disturb the heaven of her fair life
Henceforth no more the Cyprinn isle be nam'd, With clouds of grief, or showers of melting tears;
Though for th' abode of that bright goddess fam'd; Iet harsh Unkindness, and ungenerous Strife,
Jamaica's happier groves, conceal'd so long Repining Discontent, and boding Fears,
Through ages past, are now the poets song. With every sbape of woe, be driven away,
The Graces there, and Virtues, fix their throne; Like ghosts prohibited the day.
Urania makes th' adopted land her own.
By brighter skies rais'd to a nobler birth,
At her approach, like courtiers doubly gay
To grace the pomp of some lov'd prince's day,
The gladden'd soil in all its plenty shines,
New spreads its branching palms, and new adorns While o'er the cloth thy happy pencil strays,
its pinçs; And the pleas'd eye its artful course surveys, With gifts prepares the shining guest to meet, Behold the magic power of shade and light ! And pours its verdant ofierings at her feet. A new creation opens to our sight.
As in the fields with pleasure she appears, Here tufted groves rise boldly to the sky,
Smiles on the labourers, and their labours cheers, There spacious lawns, more distant, charm the eye; / The luscious canes with sweeter juices ffow, The crystal lakes in borrow'd tinctures shine, The melons ripen, and the citrons blow, And misty hills the fair horizon join,
The golden orange takes a richer dye, Lost in the azure borders of the day,
And slaves forget their toil, while she is by. Like sounds remote, that die in air away.
Not Ceres' self more blessings could display, The peopled prospect various pleasure yields, When thro' the Earth she took her wandering way, Sherp grace the hills, and herds or swains the fields; | Far from her native coast, and all around Harmonious order o'er the whole presides, Diffus'd ripe harvests through the tecining ground. And Nature crowns the work, which Judgment
Mean while our drooping vales, deserted, mourn, guides.
Till happy years bring on her wish'd return;
Aud Britain shall again the world outshine.
So when, of late, our Sun was veil'd from sight.
In dark eclipse, and lost in sudden night,
A shivering cold each heart with horrour thrillid,
The birds forsook the skies, the herds the field; Doubtful to choose, and fearing still to err, When to thyself they would thyself prefer.
But when the conquering orb, with one bright ray, So when the rival gods at Athens strove,
Broke thro' the gloom, and reinthron’d the day,
The herds reviv'd, the birds renew'd their strains, By wondrous works, their power divine to prove, As Neptune's trident strook the teeming earth,
Unusual transports rais'd the cheerful swains, Here the proud horse upstarted to his birth;
And joy, returning, echo'd through the plaius And there, as Pallas bless'd the fruitful scene, The spreading olive rear'd its stately green; In dumb surprise the gazing crowds were lost, Nar knew on which to fix their wonder most.
SUPPLEMENT AND CONCLUSION
TO MR. MILTON'S INCOMPARABLE POEM,
IL PENSEROSO, OR THE PENSIVE MAN,
It seems necessary to quote the eight foregoing lines With speed obsequious, to a distant shore:
for the right understanding of it. A prize more rich than Spain's whole fleets could
“ And may, at last, my weary age From fam'd Peru, or Chili's golden coast! [boast There the glad natives, on the crowded strand,
Find out the peaceful hermitage, With wonder see the matchless stranger land;
The hairy gown, and mossy cell, Transplanted glories in her features smile,
Where I may sit, and rightly spell And a new dawn of beauty gilds their isle.
Of every star that Heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew;
WAS ALSO WRIT BY MR. HUGUES,