NOTES AND OBSERVATIONS. Ver. 1. ON THE PASTORALS. PASTORAL I. P. 61. FIRST IRST in these fields I try the fylvan strains, Our Poet seems to have confulted Dryden's verfion of the place imitated here, Virg. Ecl. vi. 1. I first transferr'd to Rome Sicilian ftrains: Nor blufh'd the Doric Muse to dwell on Mantuan plains. Rofcommon alfo, a terfe, judicious, unaffected, and moral writer, justly esteemed and celebrated by Pope, may be agreeably compared on this occafion : I first of Romans ftoop'd to rural ftrains, Nor blush'd to dwell among Sicilian fwains. Ver. 5. Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play. A beautiful paffage of this kind occurs in Paradise Regain'd, ii. 26. Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, Where winds with reeds and ofiers whisp'ring play A paffage in Lucan, viii. 493. is very appofite to this fentiment: exeat aulâ, Qui vult effe pius. Virtus et fumma poteftas Non coëunt. He, who would spotlefs live, from courts must go : Ver. 23. Hear how the birds, on ev'ry bloomy spray, Surry, in his Sonnet on Spring: Somer is come, for every spray now springes. Millon, Milton, Paradife Regain'd, iv. 437. in moft delicate ftrains of the Doric Mufe: the birds Clear'd up their choiceft notes in bush and spray, To gratulate the fweet return of morn. And in his first fonnet, which Pope certainly had in view : O! Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray Warbleft at eve! Some lines in Broome's Paraphrafe of Job xxxix. on a congenial subject, will be acceptable to the reader, who delights in the fraof thefe bloffoms of the Mufes : grance By thy command does fair Aurora rise, And gild with purple beams the blushing skies? Ver. 25. Why fit we mute, when early linnets fing; He is indebted here to Waller's Chloris and Hylas; a paffage, pointed out alfo by Mr. White; Hylas, oh Hylas! why fit we mute, Now that each bird faluteth the fpring? Ver. 35. where wanton ivy twines, And fwelling clufters bend the curling vines. Dryden, in his State of Innocence, A& iii. Scene 1. And creeping 'twixt 'em all, the mantling vine Ver. 37. Four figures rifing from the work appear. And Roman triumphs rifing on the gold. Ver. 62. And trees weep amber on the banks of Po. This fweet line is indebted, perhaps, to Milton, Par. Loft, iv. 248, Groves, whofe rich trees wept odorous gums and balm. The claffical reader will thank me for producing fome elegant verfes of Marius Victor, an author but little known, from his defcription of Paradife : quod quod Medus redolet, vel crine foluto Ver. 73. All nature laughs; the groves are fresh and fair. It flood in the first edition, and, I think, as well : All nature laughs; the groves fresh honours wear. It is probable, that our author had in view fome lines of the true But, with your prefence cheer'd, they cease to mourn, PASTORAL II. P. 73. Ver. 45. Oh! were I made, by fome transforming pow'r, Romeo and Juliet: I would I were thy bird. A fimilar with occurs in Ovid, Met. viii. 51. O! ego ter felix, fi pennis lapfa per auras Ver. 69. Here bees from bloffoms fip the rofy dew. Milton, in his Penferofo: And every herb, that fips the dew. PASTORAL III. P. 82. STEEVENS. CROXALL. Ver. 30. Say, is not absence death to those who love? This whole paffage is imitated from Sir Philip Sydney's Arcadia, Book iii. p. 712. 8vo edition : Earth, brook, flow'rs, pipe, lamb, dove, Say all, and I with them, Abfence is death, or worse, to them that love. Ver. 37. Let op'ning roses knotted oaks adorn, And liquid amber drop from every thorn. Bowlas, in his tranflation of Theocritus, Idyll. v. affifted our bard: On brambles now let violets be born, And op'ning rofes blufh on every thorn. Ogilby's line at the original paffage in Virgil, is very pleasing and melodious: And pureft amber flow from every tree. Ver. 43. Not bubbling fountains to the thirfty fwain, Not fhow'rs to larks, or fun-fhine to the bee, With thefe polifhed lines a paffage in Drummond's Wandering Mufes (pointed out alfo by Mr. Steevens) may be very agreeably compared: To virgins, flow'rs; to fun-burnt earth, the rain; To mariners, fair winds, amidit the main; Ver. 9. I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred; I know thee, Love! on mountains thou waft bred, The paffage ran thus in our Poet's first edition: I know thee, Love! wild as the raging main; PASTORAL IV. P. 90. Ver 39. The filver fwans her hapless fate bemoan, In notes more fad than when they fing their own. The hint of this turn was derived from a verse in ́Philips's Paftorals, where the circumstances of the cafe render it ridiculous; Ye brighter maids, faint emblems of my fair, With looks caft down, and with dishevel'd hair, In bitter anguish beat your breasts, and moan Her death untimely as it were your own. THE |