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TO HIS GRACE

THOMAS, DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

MY LORD,

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HE honours of your ancient and illuftrious family, which that noble writer, Algernon Sidney, places among the firft in thefe kingdoms for prerogative of birth, the titles which you have long worn with... distinguished luftre, and the high ftation which you have many years filled, and now fill, in the government, give your Grace a juft preheminence in the community;' but they are excellencies of a more exalted kind to which this tribute of my respect is paid. Your early zeal in the cause of liberty, which manifested itself at the close of a late reign, when the worst of schemes were promoted against this nation by the worst of men, the affociation (of which I had the honour to be an humble member) into which you then entered, with fome others, eminent for their birth, fortune, and knowledge, for fecuring the fucceffion of the house of Hanover to the throne of these kingdoms, your taste of useful and polite literature, and the encouragement which you have been always ready to give to it, your friendly regard to, and connection with, that univerfity which has been the nurfe of the greatest states, men, heroes, philofophers, and poets, of English growth, and the open liberality of your heart on all laudable

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laudable occafions, must give you a place in the affections of all Englishmen who know the interest of their native country and to thofe virtues, more than to the private friendship with which your Grace has long honoured me, I make this offering of the few poetical Pieces which were the produce of my leisure, but fome of my most pleasant, hours: your Grace will be able to diftinguish those which have been printed before, from those which now make their first appearance: and I number among the felicities of my days this opportunity of approaching you with fomething perhaps not unworthy your acceptance; and I have the honour to be,

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PASTORAL POEM S.

* Nostra nec erubuit fylvas habitare Thalia.”

VIRG. Ecl. 6.

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PREFACE.

T is fomewhat ftrange to conceive, in an age fo addicted to the Mufes, how Paftoral Poetry comes to be never fo much as thought upon; confidering efpecially, that it is of the greatest antiquity, and hath ever been accounted the foremost, antong the fmaller poems, in dignity. Virgil and Spenfer made ufe of it as a prelude to Epic Poetry: but, I fear, the innocency of the fubject makes it fo little inviting.

There is no kind of Poem, if happily executed, but gives delight; and herein may the Paftoral boaft after a peculiar manner: for, as in Painting, fo in Poetry, the country affords not only the moft delightful scenes and profpects, but likewife the moft pleafing images of life.

Gaffendus (I remember) obferves, that Peireskius was a great lover of mufic, especially the melody of birds: because their simple strains have less of paffion

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and violence, but more of a fedate and quiet harmonyz and, therefore, do they rather befriend contemplation. In like manner, the Pastoral Song gives a fweet and gentle compofure to the mind; whereas the Epic and Tragic Poems, by the vehemency of their emotions, raife the fpirits into a ferment.

To view a fair stately palace, strikes us indeed with admiration, and fwells the foul with notions of grandeur: but when I fee a little country-dwelling, advantageoufly fituated amidst a beauteful variety of hills, meadows, fields, woods, and rivulets, I feel an unfpeakable fort of fatisfaction, and cannot forbear wishing my kinder fortune would place .. .me in fuch a sweet re

tirement.

Theocritus, Virgil, and Spenfer, are the only Poets who feem to have hit upon the true nature of Paftoral Compofitions: fo that it will be fufficient praise for me, if I have not altogether failed in my attempt.

THE

THE FIRST PASTORAL.

IF

L'OBBIN.

we, O Dorfet, quit the city-throng,
To meditate in fhades the rural fong,
By your cominand, be present: and, O bring
The Mufe along! The Mufe to you shall fing:
Her influence, Buckhurst, let me there obtain,
And I forgive the fam'd Sicilian Swain.

Begin. In unluxurious times of yore,
When flocks and herds were no inglorious ftore,
Lobbin, a fhepherd-boy, one evening fair,
As weftern winds had cool'd the fultry air,
His number'd sheep within the fold now pent,
Thus plain'd him of his dreary difcontent;
Beneath a hoary poplar's whispering boughs,
He, folitary, fat to breathe his vows,
Venting the tender anguish of his heart,
As paffion taught, in accents free of art:
And little did he hope, while, night by night,
His fighs were lavish'd thus on Lucy bright.

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« Ah, well-a-day! how long must I endure This pining pain? Or who shall speed my cure? 20 Fond love.no cure will have, feek no repofe, "Delights in grief, nor any measure knows : "And now the moon begins in clouds to rife; The brightening stars increase within the skies; 24. "The

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