WINTER:

THE FOURTH PASTORAL,

OR

DAPHNE.

TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. TEMPEST.

LYCIDA S.

THYRSIS, the mufic of that murm'ring spring
Is not fo mournful as the ftrains you fing;
Nor rivers winding through the vales below,
So fweetly warble, or fo fmoothly flow.

now

REMARKS.

WINTER.] This was the Poet's favourite Paftoral.

Mrs. Tempeft.] This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkfhire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh*, who having celebrated her in a Paftoral Elegy, defired his friend to do the fame, as appears from one of his Letters, dated

IMITATIONS.

Sept

VER. 1. Thirfis, the mufic, &c.] Adú T, &c. Theocr. Id. i.

*On lately reading Mr. Walsh's Preface to Dryden's tranflation of Virgil's Eclogues, I was convinced he had a greater share of learning than he is ufually allowed to poffefs. His strictures on the French language and manners, and on Fontenelle's affected and unnatural Eclogues, as well as on his vain attempt to depreciate the Ancients, are very folid and judicious. To what he has faid of Virgil may be added, that one of the most natural ftrokes in all his Eclogues, is the fhepherd's reckoning his years by the fucceffion of his loves;

Poftquam nos Amaryllis habet

This paftoral chronology is much in character.

Now fleeping flocks on their foft fleeces lie,
The moon, ferene in glory, mounts the sky,
While filent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Oh fing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praise!

THYRS IS,

Behold the groves that shine with filver frost,
Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure loft.
Here fhall I try the sweet Alexis' strain,

That call'd the lift'ning Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving fong.

So

LYCIDA S.

may kind rains their vital moisture yield, And fwell the future harvest of the field.

Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
And faid, "Ye fhepherds fing around my grave!"
Sing, while befide the shaded tomb I mourn,
And with fresh bays her rural fhrine adorn.

5

10

15

20

Ye

REMARKS.

Sept. 9, 1706. "Your laft Eclogue being on the fame fubjec with mine, on Mrs. Tempeft'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 fame lady." Her death having happened on the night of the great ftorm in 1703, gave a propriety to this Eclogue, which in its general turn alludes to it. The scene of the Paftoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight.

POPE.

I do not find any lines that allude to the great ftorm of which the Poet speaks.

VER. 13. Thames heard, &c.]

WARTON.

IMITATIONS.

"Audiit Eurotas, juffitque edifcere lauros."

Virg. P.

THYRSIS.

Ye gentle Mufes, leave your crystal spring, Let Nymphs and Sylvans cypress garlands bring, Ye weeping Loves, the ftream with myrtles hide, And break your bows, as when Adonis dy'd ; And with your golden darts, now ufelefs grown, 25 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 obfcure the chearful day!

30

Now

VARIATIONS.

VER. 29. Originally thus in the MS.

'Tis done, and nature chang'd fince you are gone;
Behold the clouds have put their Mourning on.

REMARK S,

WARBURTON,

VER. 21. Let Nymphs and Sylvans, &c.] This line recalls a pathetic little ballad, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Maid's Tragedy; Lay a garland on my hearfe

Of the difmal yew,

Maidens, willow branches bear,

Say I died true.

My love was falfe, but I was true,

From my hour of birth:

Upon my buried body lie

Softly, gentle earth!

VER. 31. Now hung with pearls, Sc.]

"And hung a pearl in every cowfiip's ear."

Mid-fummer Night's Dream.-STEVENS

IMITATIONS.

VER, 23, 24, 25

"Inducite fontibus umbras

Et tumulum facite, et tumulo fuperaddite carmen."

P.

Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear,
Their faded honours fcatter'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,
The thirsty heifers fhun the gliding flood,
The filver fwans her haplefs fate bemoan,

In notes more fad than when they fing their own;
In hollow caves fweet Echo filent lies,
Silent, or only to her name replies;

Her name with pleasure once she taught the fhore,
Now Daphne's dead and pleasure is no more!

No grateful dews defcend from ev'ning skies,

Nor morning odours from the flow'rs arise;

35

41

45

No

REMARKS.

VER. 41. Sweet Echo] This expreffion of fweet Echo is taken from Comus; as is another expreffion, loofe traces, Third Past. v. 62. And he recommends these poems in high terms to Sir W. Trumball (fee the Letters) fo early as the year 1704.

VE. 41. In hollow caves fweet Echo filent lies]

WARTON.

"The cave where echo lies " Romeo and Juliet. STEVENS, Sweet Echo, fweetest nymph, that liv'dst unseen.

Oh if thou have,

Hid them in fome flow'ry cave,

Αχω δ' εν πέτρησιν οδύρεται, οττι σιωπη,

Κεκετι μιμείται τα σα χείλεα.

COMUS.

Compare Mofchus's beautiful Epitaphium Bionis. "Echo mourns amid the rocks, that he must now be filent, nor ever imitate again thy lips."

1

No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield.
The balmy Zephyrs, filent fince her death,
Lament the ceafing of a sweeter breath;

Th' industrious bees neglect their golden ftore!
Fair Daphne's dead, and fweetness is no more!

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne fings,
Shall lift'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 murmurs fhall forbear,
A fweeter mufic 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 fighs to all the trembling trees;

55

ба

The trembling trees, in ev'ry plain and wood,

Her fate remurmur to the filver flood;

The filver flood, fo lately calm, appears

65

Swell'd with new paffion, and o'erflows with tears;
The winds, and trees, and floods, her death deplore,
Daphne, our grief! our glory now no more!

But

REMARKS.

VER. 54. Here the circumstances of the lark fufpending its wings in mid-air, is highly beautiful, because the image is distinct, and there is a veri-fimilitudo in it, which is not the cafe where a waterfall is made to be fufpended by the power of Mufic.

VER. 61. &c. Her fate is whispered] All this is very poor, and unworthy Pope. First, the breeze whispers the death of Daphne to the trees; then the trees inform the flood of it; then the flood

"o'erflows