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On a FAN of the Author's defign, in which was painted the ftory of CEPHALUS and PROCRIS, with the Motto, AURA VENI,

OME, gentle Air! th' Eolian fhepherd faid,
While Procris panted in the secret shade;
Come, gentle Air! the fairer Delia cries,
While at her feet her fwain expiring lies.

Lo the glad gales o'er all her beauties stray,
Breathe on her lips, and in her bosom play!
In Delia's hand this toy is fatal found,

Nor could that fabled dart more furely wound:
Both gifts destructive to the givers prove;

Alike both lovers fall by thofe they love.
Yet guiltless too this bright destroyer lives,

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At random wounds, nor knows the wound the gives: She views the story with attentive eyes,

And pities Procris, while her lover dies.

IN the following love-verses is a strain of fenfibility which the reader will be pleased, I suppose, to fee, being now first published from a manuscript of Mr. Gray:

"With beauty, with pleasure, furrounded, to languish,

To weep without knowing the cause of my anguish;
To ftart from fhort flumbers, and wish for the morning,
To close my dull eyes when I fee it returning;
Sighs fudden and frequent, looks ever dejected,

Words that steal from my tongue by no meaning connected;
Ah fay, fellow swains, how these symptoms befell me?
They fmile, but reply not; fure Delia will tell me."




IN the imitation of Cowley, in two pieces, on a Garden, and on Weeping, Pope has properly enough, in conformity to his original, extorted fome moral, or darted forth fome witticism on every object he mentions. It is not enough to fay, that the laurels fheltered the fountain from the heat of the day; but this idea muft be accompanied with a conceit :


Daphne, now a tree, as once a maid,

Still from Apollo vindicates her fhade."

The flowers that grow on the water-fide could not be fufficiently defcribed without faying, that

The pale Narciffus on the bank, in vain
Transformed, gazes on himself again."

In the lines on a Lady Weeping, you might expect a touching picture of beauty in diftrefs; you will be disappointed. Wit, on the prefent occafion, is to be preferred to tenderness; the babe in her eye is faid to refemble Phaeton fo much,

"That heav'n the threat'ned world to fpare,

Thought fit to drown him in her tears;
Elfe might th' ambitious nymph afpire
To set, like him, the world on fire.”

Let not this ftrained affectation of ftriving to be witty upon all occafions be thought exaggerated, or a caricature of Cowley. It is painful to cenfure a writer of fo amiable a mind, fuch integrity of manners, and such a sweetness of temper. His fancy was brilliant, ftrong, and fprightly; but his tafte falfe and unclaffical, even though he had much learning. In his Latin compofitions, his fix books on plants, where the fubject might have led him to a contrary practice, he imitates Martial rather than Virgil, and has given us more epigrams than defcriptions. I do not remember to

have seen it enough observed, that Cowley had a most happy talent of imitating the easy manner of Horace's epiftolary writings; I must therefore insert a specimen of this his excellence':


Ergo iterum verfus ? dices. O Vane! quid ergo

Morbum ejurafti toties, tibi qui infidet altis,
Non evellendus, vi vel ratione, medullis?
Numne poetarum (merito dices) ut amantum
Derifum ridere deum perjuria cenfes ?

Parcius hæc, fodes, neve inclementibus urge
Infelicem hominem dictis; nam fata trahunt me

Magna reluctantem, et nequicquam in vincla minacem.

Helleborum fumpfi, fateor, pulchreque videbar

Purgatus morbi ; fed Luna potentior herbis

Infanire iterum jubet, et fibi vendicat ægrum."

There is another epiftle alfo, well worthy perufal, to his friend, Mat. Clifford, at the end of the fame volume. Pope, in one of his imitations of Horace, has exhibited the real character of Cowley with delicacy and candour:

"Who now reads Cowley? If he pleases yet,

His moral pleases, not his pointed wit;

Forgot his epic, nay Pindaric art,

But ftill I love the language of his heart."

His profe works give us the moft amiable idea both of his abilities and his heart. His Pindaric odes cannot be perused with common patience by a lover of antiquity. He that would fee Pindar's manner truly imitated, may read Mafters's noble and pathetic Ode on the Crucifixion; and he that wants to be convinced that these reflections on Cowley are not too severe, may read also his epigrammatic version of it:

« Η εκ οραας ὁλοπορφυρον

Στιλβοντ' 8 φλογε

Σιδονίης αλος, αλ

-λ αίματι σαζομενω

"Doft thou not fee thy prince in purple clad all o'er,

Not purple brought from the Sidonian fhore;

But made at home with richer gore?"

• Avory avobye

Πυλας οπωπων

Και πηγας βλεφάρων

Λυσαί, ψεκαζε, δενε γαιαν.”


"Open, oh! open wide the fountains of thine eyes,
And let them call

Their ftock of moisture forth where-e'er it lies,
For this will ask it all.

'Twould all, alas! too little be,

Though thy falt tears came from a fea.”

Cowley being early difgufted with the perplexities and vanities of a court life, had a ftrong defire to enjoy the milder pleasures of folitude and retirement; he therefore escaped from the tumults of London to a little house at Wandfworth; but finding that place too near the metropolis, he left it for Richmond, and at laft fettled at Chertsey. He feems to have thought that the fwains of Surry had the innocence of thofe of Sydney's Arcadia; but the perverfenefs and debauchery of his own workmen foon undeceived him, with whom, it is faid, he was fometimes fo provoked, as even to be betrayed into an oath. His income was about three hundred pounds a year. Towards the latter part of his life he shewed an averfion to the company of women, and would often leave the room if any happened to enter it whilft he was present, but still retained a fincere affection for Leonora. His death was occafioned by a fingular accident; he paid a vifit on foot with his friend Sprat to a gentleman in the neighbourhood of Chertsey, which they prolonged, and feafted too much, till midnight. On their return home they mistook their way, and were obliged to pafs the whole night expofed under a hedge, where Cowley caught a fevere cold, attended with a fever, that terminated in his death. All these particulars were communicated to me by Mr. Spence from his Anecdotes, who affured me he received them from Mr. Pope's own mouth. WARTON,




Mufe the flow'ry Treasures fing,
FAIN Would
And humble glories of the youthful Spring;
Where op'ning Roses breathing sweets diffuse,
And foft Carnations fhow'r their balmy dews;
Where Lilies smile in virgin robes of white,
The thin Undrefs of fuperficial Light,
And vary'd Tulips fhow fo dazzling gay,
Blufhing in bright diverfities of day.
Each painted flowret in the lake below

Surveys its beauties, whence its beauties grow;
And pale Narciffus on the bank, in vain
Transformed, gazes on himself again.
Here aged trees Cathedral Walks compofe,
And mount the Hill in venerable rows:

There the green Infants in their beds are laid,
The Garden's Hope, and its expected fhade.
Here Orange-trees with blooms and pendants shine,
And vernal honours to their autumn join,
Exceed their promise in the ripen'd store,
Yet in the rifing bloffom promise more:
There in bright drops the crystal Fountains play,
By Laurels fhielded from the piercing day:





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