WINDSOR FOREST. - OAKS.

THY forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats, At once the monarch's and the muse's seats, Invite my lays. Be present, sylvan maids! Unlock your springs, and open all your shades. Granville commands; - your aid, O muses, bring!— What muse for Granville can refuse to sing!

The groves of Eden, vanished now so long,
Live in description, and look green in song:
These, were my breast inspired with equal flame,
Like them in beauty, should be like in fame.
Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water, seem to strive again;
Not, chaos-like, together crushed and bruised,
But, as the world, harmoniously confused:
Where order in variety we see,

And where, though all things differ, all agree.
Here waving groves a checkered scene display,
And part admit and part exclude the day;
As some coy nymph her lover's warm address
Nor quite indulges, nor can quite repress:
There, interspersed in lawns and opening glades,
Thin trees arise that shun each other's shades:
Here, in full light the russet plains extend :
There, wrapt in clouds, the bluish hills ascend.
Even the wild heath displays her purple dyes;
And 'midst the desert fruitful fields arise,
That, crowned with tufted trees and fringing corn,
Like verdant isles, the sable waste adorn.
Let India boast her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber or the balmy tree,
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms commanded which those trees adorn.

OLYMPUS; PAN; POMONA; FLORA; CERES; INDUSTRY; PEACE PLENTY; THE STUART.

Not proud Olympus yields a nobler sight, Though gods assembled grace his towering height, Than what more humble mountains offer here, Where, in their blessings, all those gods appear. See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crowned; Here blushing Flora paints the enamelled ground; Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And, nodding, tempt the joyful reaper's hand; Rich industry sits smiling on the plains, And peace and plenty tell, a Stuart reigns.

WINDSOR FOREST UNDER THE SAVAGE WILLIAMS.

Not thus the land appeared in ages past,
A dreary desert, and a gloomy waste;
To savage beasts and savage laws a prey;

Who claimed the skies, dispeopled air and floods,
The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods:
Cities laid waste, they stormed the dens and caves —
For wiser brutes were backward to be slaves.
What could be free, when lawless beasts obeyed,
And even the elements a tyrant swayed?
In vain kind seasons swelled the teeming grain,
Soft showers distilled, and suns grew warm in vain ;
The swain with tears his frustrate labor yields,
And famished dies amidst his ripened fields.

TYRANNY OF WILLIAM I.; HE DEPOPULATED THE COUNTRY TO
MAKE THE NEW FOREST; TWO OF HIS SONS KILLED THERE.

What wonder, then, a beast or subject slain Were equal crimes in a despotic reign? Both, doomed alike, for sportive tyrants bled; But while the subject starved, the beast was fed. Proud Nimrod first the bloody chase began; A mighty hunter, and his prey was man : Our haughty Norman boasts that barbarous name, And makes his trembling slaves the royal game. The fields are ravished from the industrious swains; From men their cities, and from gods their fanes : 1 The levelled towns with weeds lie covered o'er; The hollow winds through naked temples roar; Round broken columns clasping ivy twined; O'er heaps of ruins stalked the stately hind; The fox obscene to gaping tombs retires; And savage howlings fill the sacred quires. Awed by his nobles, by his commons curst, The oppressor ruled tyrannic where he durst; Stretched o'er the poor and church his iron rod, And served alike his vassals and his God. Whom even the Saxon spared, and bloody Dane, The wanton victims of his sport remain. But see, the man who spacious regions gave A waste for beasts, himself denied a grave! Stretched on the lawn, his second hope survey, At once the chaser, and at once the prey : Lo! Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart, Bleeds in the forest, like a wounded hart.

GRADUAL CULTIVATION. LIBERTY.

Succeeding monarchs heard the subjects' cries, Nor saw displeased the peaceful cottage rise. Then gathering flocks on unknown mountains fed; O'er sandy wilds were yellow harvests spread;

1 William the Conqueror, though he had sixty-eight royal forests, laid waste a vast tract in Hampshire, filled with villages and churches, for the New Forest. Windsor Forest was a part of this. His sons Richard and Rufus were killed there while hunting.

The forests wondered at the unusual grain,
And secret transport touched the conscious swain.
Fair Liberty, Britannia's goddess, rears
Her cheerful head, and leads the golden years.

SNARING PARTRIDGES; SOLDIERS; PHEASANT.

Ye vigorous swains! while youth ferments your And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood, [blood, Now range the hills, the gameful woods beset, Wind the shrill horn, or spread the waving net When milder Autumn Summer's heat succeeds, And in the new-shorn field the partridge feeds, Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds, Panting with hope, he tries the furrowed grounds; But when the tainted gales the game betray, Couched close he lies, and meditates the prey: Secure, they trust the unfaithful field beset, Till, hovering o'er 'em, sweeps the swelling net. Thus (if small things we may with great compare) When Albion sends her eager sons to war, Some thoughtless town, with ease and plenty blest, Near and more near the closing lines invest; Sudden they seize the amazed, defenceless prize, And high in air Britannia's standard flies.

See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts, exulting, on triumphant wings: Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. Ah! what avails his glossy varying dyes, His purple crest, and scarlet circled eyes! The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold!

HUNTING THE HARE IN WINDSOR FOREST. THE FOWLER AND HIS GUN.

Nor yet, when moist Arcturus clouds the sky, The woods and fields their pleasing toils deny. To plains with well-breathed beagles we repair, And trace the mazes of the circling hareBeasts, urged by us, their fellow-beasts pursue, And learn of man each other to undo:With slaughtering guns the unwearied fowler roves, When frosts have whitened all the naked groves, Where doves in flocks the leafless trees o'ershade, And lonely woodcocks haunt the watery glade. He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye; Straight a short thunder breaks the frozen sky: Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamorous lapwings feel the leaden death: Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare, They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

WINDSOR FOREST IN SPRING. ANGLING.

In genial Spring, beneath the quivering shade, Where cooling vapors breathe along the mead, The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Intent, his angle trembling in his hand : With looks unmoved, he hopes the scaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed. Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch, with fins of Tyrian dye,

The silver eel, in shining volumes rolled,
The yellow carp, in scales bedropped with gold,
Swift trouts diversified with crimson stains,
And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains.

STAG-HUNTING IN WINDSOR FOREST.QUEEN ANSE.

Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car: The youth rush eager to the sylvan war, Swarm o'er the lawns, the forest walks surround, Rouse the fleet hart, and cheer the opening hound. The impatient courser pants in every vein, And, pawing, seems to beat the distant plain : Hills, vales, and floods appear already crossed, And, ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost. See the bold youth strain up the threatening steep, Rush through the thickets, down the valleys sweep. Hang o'er their coursers' heads with eager speed; And earth rolls back beneath the flying steed. Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain, The immortal huntress, and her virgin-train ; Nor envy, Windsor, since thy shades have seen As bright a goddess, and as chaste a queen : Whose care, like hers, protects the sylvan reign; The earth's fair light, and empress of the main.

DIANA IN WINDSOR FOREST; THE NYMPH LODONA AND GOD PAN.

Here too, 't is sung, of old Diana strayed, And Cynthus' top forsook for Windsor shade; Here was she seen o'er airy wastes to rove, Seek the clear spring, or haunt the pathless grove; Here, armed with silver bows, in early dawn, Her buskined virgins traced the dewy lawn.

Above the rest a rural nymph was famed,
Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona named
Lodona's fate, in long oblivion cast,

The Muse shall sing, and what she sings shall last.
Scarce could the goddess from her nymph be known,
But by the crescent, and the golden zone.
She scorned the praise of beauty, and the care;
A belt her waist, a fillet binds her hair:
A painted quiver on her shoulder sounds,
And with her dart the flying deer she wounds.
It chanced, as, eager of the chase, the maid
Beyond the forest's verdant limits strayed,
Pan saw and loved; and, burning with desire,
Pursued her flight; her flight increased his fire.

PURSUIT OF PAN; LODONA CHANGED INTO A COLD STREAM.
Not half so swift the trembling doves can fly,
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky;
Not half so swiftly the fierce eagle moves, [doves,
When through the clouds he drives the trembling
As from the god she flew with furious pace,
Or as the god, more furious, urged the chase.
Now fainting, sinking, pale, the nymph appears ;
Now, close behind, his sounding steps she hears;
And now his shadow reached her as she run,
His shadow lengthened by the setting sun;
And now his shorter breath, with sultry air,
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.

PRAISE OF THE RIVER THAMES.

Thou, too, great father of the British floods!
With joyful pride survey'st our lofty woods;
Where towering oaks their growing honors rear,
And future navies on thy shores appear,

Not Neptune's self from all her streams receives
A wealthier tribute than to thine he gives.
No seas so rich, so gay no banks appear,
No lake so gentle, and no spring so clear;
Nor Po so swells the fabling poet's lays,
While led along the skies his current strays,
As thine, which visits Windsor's famed abodes,
To grace the mansion of our earthly gods:
Nor all his stars above a lustre show,
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below;
Where Jove, subdued by mortal passion still,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.

THE BRITISH COURT.- RURAL COMPETENCE, STUDY AND QUIET. - THE HERBALIST, ASTRONOMER, SCHOLAR, SAGE.

Happy the man whom this bright court approves, His sovereign favors, and his country loves: Happy next him, who to these shades retires, Whom Nature charms, and whom the Muse inspires: Whom humble joys of home-felt quiet please, Successive study, exercise, and ease. He gathers health from herbs the forest yields, And of their fragrant physic spoils the fields: With chemic art exalts the mineral powers, And draws the aromatic souls of flowers: Now marks the course of rolling orbs on high, O'er figured worlds now travels with his eye; Of ancient writ unlocks the learned store, Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'er : Or wandering thoughtful in the silent wood,

Attends the duties of the wise and good,
To observe a mean, be to himself a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end;
Or looks on heaven with more than mortal eyes,
Bids his free soul expatiate in the skies,
Amid her kindred stars familiar roam,
Survey the region, and confess her home!
Such was the life great Scipio once admired;
Thus Atticus, and Trumbal thus, retired.

RURAL SCENES; COOPER'S HILL. — DENHAM. — COWLEY. Ye sacred Nine! that all my soul possess, Whose raptures fire me, and whose visions bless, Bear me, O bear me to sequestered scenes, The bowery mazes, and surrounding greens; To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill, Or where ye, Muses, sport on Cooper's Hill. On Cooper's Hill eternal wreaths shall grow, While lasts the mountain, or while Thames shall I seem through consecrated walks to rove, [flow. I hear soft music die along the grove:

Led by the sound, I roam from shade to shade,
By godlike poets venerable made :

Here his first lays majestic Denham sung;

There the last numbers flowed from Cowley's tongue.
O, early lost! what tears the river shed
When the sad pomp along his banks was led !
His drooping swans on every note expire,
And on his willows hung each Muse's lyre.

Since fate relentless stopped their heavenly voice,
No more the forests ring, or groves rejoice;
Who now shall charm the shades where Cowley strung
His living harp, and lofty Denham sung?

TRIBUTE TO GRANVILLE AND SURREY.

But, hark! the groves rejoice, the forest rings! Are these revived? or is it Granville sings? "T is yours, my lord, to bless our soft retreats, And call the Muses to their ancient seats; To paint anew the flowery sylvan scenes, To crown the forests with immortal greens, Make Windsor hills in lofty numbers rise, And lift her turrets nearer to the skies; To sing those honors you deserve to wear, And add new lustre to her silver star.

With Edward's acts adorn the shining page,
Stretch his long triumphs down through every age:
Draw monarchs chained, and Cressi's glorious field,
The lilies blazing on the regal shield:
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colors fall,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,

Still in thy song should vanquished France appear,
And bleed forever under Britain's spear.

Let softer strains ill-fated Henry mourn,

And palms eternal flourish round his urn.
Here o'er the Martyr King the marble weeps,
And fast, beside him, once-feared Edward sleeps:
Whom not the extended Albion could contain,
From old Belerium to the northern main,
The grave unites; where e'en the great find rest,
And blended lie the oppressor and the oppressed!
Make sacred Charles's tomb forever known
Obscure the place, and uninscribed the stone: -
O, fact accursed! what tears has Albion shed!
Heavens, what new wounds! - and how her old
have bled!

She saw her sons with purple deaths expire,
Her sacred domes involved in rolling fire,
A dreadful series of intestine wars,
Inglorious triumphs, and dishonest scars.

At length great Anna said, 'Let discord cease!'
She said, the world obeyed, and all was peace!

THE GLORIES Of queen anne'S REIGN. THAMES, ITS RIVERS ;
ISIS, KENNET, LODDON, COLE, WEY, VANDALIS, LEE, MOLE,
DARENT. THE THAMES PERSONIFIED.

In that blest moment, from his oozy bed, Old father Thames advanced his reverend head; His tresses dropped with dews, and o'er the stream His shining horns diffused a golden gleam : Graved on his urn appeared the moon, that guides His swelling waters and alternate tides; The figured streams in waves of silver rolled, And on her banks Augusta rose in gold; Around his throne the sea-born brothers stood, Who swelled with tributary urns his flood! First, the famed authors of his ancient name, The winding Isis and the fruitful Thame : The Kennet swift, for silver eels renowned; The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crowned; Cole, whose dark streams his flowery islands lave ; And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave: The blue, transparent Vandalis appears; The gulfy Lee his sedgy tresses rears; And sullen Mole that hides his diving flood; And silent Darent, stained with Danish blood. High in the midst, upon his urn reclined His sea-green mantle waving with the windThe god appeared he turned his azure eyes Where Windsor domes and pompous turrets rise! Then bowed, and spoke; the winds forgot to roar, And the hushed waves glide softly to the shore.

SPEECH OF FATHER THAMES; APOSTROPHE TO FEACE; BRITISH WARS; LONDON AND ITS BUILDINGS; THE ARTS.

Hail, sacred Peace! hail, long-expected days, That Thames's glory to the stars shall raise!

Though Tiber's streams immortal Rome behold, Though foaming Hermus swells with tides of gold,

From heaven itself though seven-fold Nilus flows,
And harvests on a hundred realms bestows;
These now no more shall be the Muses' themes,
Lost in my fame, as in the sea their streams.
Let Volga's banks with iron squadrons shine,
And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine;
Let barbarous Ganges arm a servile train ;
Be mine the blessings of a peaceful reign!
No more my sons shall dye with British blood
Red Iber's sands, or Ister's foaming flood:
Safe on my shore, each unmolested swain
Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain ;
The shady empire shall retain no trace
Of war or blood, but in the sylvan chase;
The trumpet sleep, while cheerful horns are blown,
And arms employed on birds and beasts alone.
Behold! the ascending villas on my side
Project long shadows o'er the crystal tide.
Behold! Augusta's glittering spires increase,
And temples rise, the beauteous works of peace.
I see, I see, where two fair cities bend
Their ample bow, a new Whitehall ascend!
There mighty nations shall inquire their doom,
The world's great oracle in times to come;
There kings shall sue, and suppliant states be seen
Once more to bend before a British queen.

WINDSOR-FOREST OAKS; SHIP-BUILDING; TRIUMPHS OF BRIT-
ISH NAVIGATION.

Thy trees, fair Windsor! now shall leave their
woods,

And half thy forests rush into the floods,
Bear Britain's thunder, and her cross display,
To the bright regions of the rising day :
Tempt icy seas, where scarce the waters roll,
Where clearer flames glow round the frozen pole :
Or under southern skies exalt their sails,
Led by new stars, and borne by spicy gales!
For me the balm shall bleed, and amber flow;
The coral redden, and the ruby glow.

The pearly shell its lucid globe infold,
And Phoebus warm the ripening ore to gold.
The time shall come, when, free as seas or wind,
Unbounded Thames shall flow for all mankind;
Whole nations enter with each swelling tide,
And seas but join the regions they divide;
Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold,
And the new world launch forth to seek the old.
INTERCOURSE WITH THE NEW WORLD; AMERICAN SAVAGES;
PERU MEXICO; PACIFIC INFLUENCE OF BRITAIN.
Then ships of uncouth form shall stem the tide,
And feathered people crowd my wealthy side,
And naked youths and painted chiefs admire
Our speech, our color, and our strange attire!

O stretch thy reign, fair Peace! from shore to shore,

Till conquest cease, and slavery be no more!