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From shepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove,
Forsake mankind, and all the world-but love!
I know thee, Love! on foreign Mountains bred,
Wolves gave thee suck, and savage Tigers fed.
Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn,
Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born!
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay!
Farewell, ye woods! adieu the light of day!
One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains,
No more, ye hills, no more resound my strains!

Thus sung the shepherds till th' approach of night,
The skies yet blushing with departing light',
When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade,
And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.

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To the Memory of Mrs. TEMPEST3.


HYRSIS, the music of that murm'ring spring,


Is not so mournful as the strains you sing.

Nor rivers winding thro' the vales below,
So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow.
Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces lie,
The moon, serene in glory, mounts the sky,
While silent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Oh sing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praise!

There is a little inaccuracy here; the first line makes the time after sunset; the second, before. Warburton.

2 This was the poet's favourite pastoral. Warburton.

3 Mrs Tempest.] This lady was of an ancient family in Yorkshire, and particularly admired by the author's friend Mr Walsh, who, having celebrated her in a pastoral elegy, desired his friend to do the same, as appears from one of his letters, dated Sept. 9, 1706: 'Your last eclogue


being on the same subject with mine on Mrs Tempest's death, I should take it very kindly in you to give it a little turn as if it were to the memory of the same lady.' Her death having happened on the night of the great storm in 1703, gave a propriety to this eclogue, which in its general turn alludes to it. The scene of the pastoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight. P. [Walsh's elegy is that entitled 'Delia; an insignificant piece.]


Behold the groves that shine with silver frost,
Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure lost.
Here shall I try the sweet Alexis' strain,
That call'd the list'ning Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving song.


So may kind rains their vital moisture yield,
And swell the future harvest of the field.
Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
And said; "Ye shepherds, sing around my grave!
Sing, while beside the shaded tomb I mourn,
And with fresh bays her rural shrine adorn."


Ye gentle Muses, leave your crystal spring,
Let Nymphs and Sylvans cypress garlands bring;
Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide,
And break your bows, as when Adonis died;
And with your golden darts, now useless grown,
Inscribe a verse on this relenting stone:
"Let_nature_change, let heav'n and earth deplore,
Fair Daphne's dead, and love is now no more!"
'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay,
See gloomy clouds obscure the cheerful day!
Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear,
Their faded honours scatter'd on her bier.
See, where on earth the flow'ry glories lie,
With her they flourish'd, and with her they die.
Ah what avail the beauties nature wore?
Fair Daphne's dead, and beauty is no more!
For her the flocks refuse their verdant food,

Nor thirsty heifers seek the gliding flood.
The silver swans her hapless fate bemoan,

In notes more sad than when they sing their own;
In hollow caves sweet Echo1 silent lies,
Silent, or only to her name replies;

Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore,
Now Daphne's dead, and pleasure is no more!
No grateful dews descend from ev'ning skies,
Nor morning odours from the flow'rs arise;
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield.
The balmy Zephyrs, silent since her death,
Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath2;
Th' industrious bees neglect their golden store;
Fair Daphne's dead, and sweetness is no more!

'This expression of sweet Echo is taken from Comus; as is another expression, loose traces, Third Past. v. 62.' Warton.

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2 'I wish that his fondness had not overlooked a line in which the zephyrs are made to lament in silence.' Johnson.

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall list'ning in mid air suspend their wings;
No more the birds shall imitate her lays,
Or hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays:
No more the streams their murmur shall forbear,
A sweeter music than their own to hear,
But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore,
Fair Daphne's dead, and music is no more!
Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze,
And told in sighs to all the trembling trees;
The trembling trees, in ev'ry plain and wood,
Her fate remurmur to the silver flood;
The silver flood, so lately calm, appears




Swell'd with new passion, and o'erflows with tears;

The winds and trees and floods her death deplore,
Daphne, our grief! our glory now no more!

But see! where Daphne wond'ring mounts on high
Above the clouds, above the starry sky1!
Eternal beauties grace the shining scene,
Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green!
There while you rest in Amaranthine bow'rs,
Or from those meads select unfading flow'rs,
Behold us kindly, who your name implore,
Daphne, our Goddess, and our grief no more!




How all things listen, while thy Muse complains!
Such silence waits on Philomela's strains,

To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb shall bleed,

In some still ev'ning, when the whisp'ring breeze
Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.


If teeming ewes increase my fleecy breed.

Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise shall live!

While plants their shade, or flow'rs their odours give,


But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews,


Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse;

Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay,

Time conquers all, and we must Time obey.

Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams and groves,
Adieu, ye shepherd's rural lays and loves;
Adieu, my flocks, farewell ye sylvan crew,
Daphne, farewell, and all the world adieu2!


[Warton naturally compares the 'same beautiful change of circumstances' in Spenser's November (S. K.) and Milton's Lycidas, from line 165.]

2 These four last lines allude to the several subjects of the four Pastorals, and to the several scenes of them, particularized before in each. P.

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'Prima Syracosio dignata est ludere versu, Nostra nec erubuit sylvas habitare Thalia.' This is the general exordium and opening of the Pastorals, in imitation of the 6th of Virgil, which some have therefore not improbably thought to have been the first originally. In the beginnings of the other three Pastorals, he imitates expressly those which now stand first of the three chief poets in this kind, Spenser, Virgil, Theocritus. 'A Shepherd's Boy (he seeks no better name)'— 'Beneath the shade a spreading beech displays,''Thyrsis, the musick of that murm'ring spring,'are manifestly imitations of

-'A Shepherd's Boy (no better do him call)' -'Tityre, tu patulæ recubans sub tegmine fagi' — Αδύ τι τὸ ψιθύρισμα καὶ ὁ πίτυς, αἰπόλε,τήνα. P.

Ver. 35, 36,

'Lenta quibus torno facili superaddita vitis, Diffusos hedera vestit pallente corymbos.' Virg. P.

Ver. 38. The various seasons.] The subject of these Pastorals engraven on the bowl is not without its propriety. The shepherd's hesitation

Ver. 8. And Jove consented.]

at the name of the Zodiac, imitates that in Virgil. 'Et quis fuit alter,

Descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orbem? P. Ver. 41. Then sing by turns.] Literally from Virgil,

'Alternis dicetis, amant alterna Camænæ: Et nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos, Nunc frondent sylvæ, nunc formosissimus annus.'

Ver 47. A milk-white bull.] Virg. 'Pascite taurum,


'Qui cornu petat, et pedibus jam spargat arenam.' Ver. 58. She runs, but hopes.] Imitation of Virgil,

'Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella,

Et fugit ad salices, sed se cupit ante videri. Ρ. Ver. 69. All nature mourns.] Virg. 'Aret ager, vitio moriens sitit aeris herba, &c. Phyllidis adventu nostræ nemus omne virebit.' P. Ver. 90. The two riddles are in imitation of those in Virg. Ecl. iii. 'Dic quibus in terris inscripti nomina Regum Nascantur flores, et Phillida solus habeto.' P.


'Jupiter et læto descendet plurimus imbri.' Virg. P. Ecl. ii.
Ver. 15.
Nor to the deaf I sing.]
'Non canimus surdis, respondent omnia sylvæ.'
Virg. P.

Ver. 23. Where stray ye Muses, etc.]
'Quæ nemora, aut qui vos saltus habuere, puellæ
Naiades, indigno cum Gallus amore periret?
Nam neque Parnassi vobis juga, nam neque Pindi
Ulla moram fecere, neque Aonia Aganippe.'
Virg. out of Theocr. P.
Ver. 27. Virgil again from the Cyclops of

'nuper me in littore vidi

Cum placidum ventis staret mare, non ego Daphnim,

Judice te, metuam, si nunquam fallat imago.' P.

Ver. 40. bequeath'd in death; etc.] Virg. 'Est mihi disparibus septem compacta cicutis Fistula, Damotas dono mihi quam dedit olim, Et dixit moriens, te nunc habet ista secundum.' P. Ver. 60. Descending gods have found Elysium here.]

-'Habitarunt di quoque sylvas'-- Virg. 'Et formosus oves ad flumina pavit Adonis.' Idem. P.

Ver. 80. And winds shall waft, etc.] 'Partem aliquam, venti, divum referatis ad aures! Virg. P.

Ver. 88. Ye gods! etc.]

'Me tamen urit amor, quis enim modus adsit amori?' Idem. P.

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Mala ferant quercus, narcisso floreat alnus, Pinguia corticibus sudent electra myricæ.' Virg. Ecl. viii.


Ver. 52.

'An qui amant, ipsi sibi somnia fingunt? Virg. Ecl. v. P.

Ver. 82. Or what ill eyes.]

'Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos.' P. Ver. 89. Nunc scio quid sit Amor: duris in cotibus illum,' etc. P. This from Virgil is much inferior to the passage in Theocritus, whence it Ecl. v. P. is taken, Warton.

Ver. 43, etc.] 'Quale sopor fessis in gramine, quale per æstum Dulcis aquæ saliente sitim restinguere rivo.'

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́N reading several passages of the Prophet Isaiah, which foretell the coming of Christ and the felicities attending it, I could not but observe a remarkable parity between many of the thoughts, and those in the Pollio of Virgil. This will not seem surprising, when we reflect, that the Eclogue was taken from a Sibylline prophecy on the same subject. One may judge that Virgil did not copy it line by line, but made use of such ideas as best agreed with the nature of pastoral poetry, and disposed them in that manner which served most to beautify his piece. I have endeavoured the same in this imitation of him, though without admitting any thing of my own; since it was written with this particular view, that the reader, by comparing the several thoughts, might see how far the images and descriptions of the Prophet are superior to those of the Poet. But as I fear I have prejudiced them by my management, I shall subjoin the passages of Isaiah, and those of Virgil, under the same disadvantage of a literal translation. P.

[Dr Johnson, who translated this poem into Latin verse as a college exercise, in his Life of Pope observes, "That the Messiah excels the Pollio is no great praise, if it be considered from what original the improvements are derived.' Many may, however, be indisposed to agree with the assumption for which so triumphant an explanation is found in the above remark. Whilst it is by no means improbable (see Merivale's Romans under the Empire, ch. XXVII, referred to by Conington) that 'Virgil was acquainted with the prophetic portions of the Jewish Scriptures, if not directly, at least through the medium of the so-called Sibylline oracles,' these references are in the Roman poet after all only ornaments of an offering distinctly intended to celebrate by anticipation the birth of a Roman child. Pope these ornaments become the subject-matter of the poem, which is thus merely the paraphrase of an authoritative prophecy on the same subject.]


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