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Suck the moist soil, or slumber at their ease, That with its hoary head incurv'd salutes
Rock'd by the restless brook, that draws aslope The passing wave, must be the tyrant's fort,
Its humid train, and laves their dark abodes. And dread abode. How these impatient climb,
Where rages not Oppression? Where, alas ! While others at the root incessant bay !
Is Innocence secure? Rapine and Spoil

They put him down. See, there he drives along !
Haunt ev'n the lowest deeps ; seas have their sharks, Th'ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way.
Rivers and ponds inclose the ravenous pike; Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat
He in his turn becomes a prey; on him

Into the sheltering deeps. Ah! there he vents ! Th'amphibious otter feasts. Just is his fate The pack plunge headlong, and protended spears Deserv’d: but tyrants know no bounds; nor spears Menace destruction; while the troubled surge That bristle on his back, defend the perch Indignant foams, and all the scaly kind, From his wide greedy jaws; nor burnish'd mail Affrighted, hide their heads. Wild tumult reigns, The yellow carp; nor all his arts can save And loud uproar. Ah, there once more he vents! Th'insinuating eel, that hides his head

See, that bold hound has seiz'd him! down they sink, Beneath the slimy mud; nor yet escapes Together lost : but soon shall he repent The crimson-spotted trout, the river's pride, His rash assault. See, there escap'd, he flies And beauty of the stream. Without remorse, Half-drown'd, and clambers up the slippery bank This midnight pillager, ranging around,

With ooze and blood distain'd. Of all the brutes,
Insatiate swallows all. The owner mourns Whether by Nature form'd, or by long use,
Th' unpeopled rivulet, and gladly hears

This artful diver best can bear the want
The huntsman's early call, and sees with joy Of vital air. Unequal is the fight,
The jovial crew, that march upon its banks Beneath the whelming element. Yet there
In gay parade, with bearded lances arm’d. He lives not long; but respiration needs
The subtle spoiler, of the beaver kind,

At proper intervals. Again he vents;
Far off perhaps, where ancient alders shade Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierc'd
The deep still pool, within some hollow trunk His neck; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Contrives his wicker couch : whence he survoys Fixt is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
His long purlieu, lord of the stream, and all Where'er he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
The finny shoals his own. But you, brave youths, With him it mounts ; sure guide to every foe.
Dispute the felon's claim; try every root, Inly he groans; nor can his tender wound
And every reedy bank; encourage all

Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank The busy spreading pack, that fearless plunge He creeps disconsolate : his numerous foes Into the flood, and cross the rapid stream.

Surround him, hounds, and men. Pierc'd through Bid rocks and caves, and each resounding shore,

and through, Proclaim your bold defiance; loudly raise On pointed spears they lift him high in air ; Each cheering voice, till distant hills repeat Wriggling he hangs, and grins, and bites in vain: The triumphs of the vale. On the soft sand Bid the loud horns, in gaily-warbling strains, See there his seal impress'd! and on that bank Proclaim the felon's fate; he dies, he dies. Behold the glittering spoils, half-eaten fish,

Rejoice, ye scaly tribes, and leaping dance Scales, fins, and bones, the leavings of his feast. Above the wave, in sign of liberty Ah! on that yielding sag-bed, see, once more Restor'd ; the cruel tyrant is no more. His seal I view. O'er yon dank rushy marsh Rejoice secure and bless'd ; did not as yet The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course, Remain some of your own rapacious kind; And seeks the distant shallows. Huntsman, bring And man, fierce man, with all his various wiles. Thy eager pack, and trail him to his couch. O happy! if ye knew your happy state, Hark! the loud peal begins, the clamorous joy, Ye rangers of the fields; whom Nature boon The gallant chiding, loads the trembling air. Cheers with her smiles, and every element

Ye Naiads fair, who o'er these floods preside, Conspires to bless. What, if no heroes frown Raise up your dripping heads above the wave, From marble pedestals; nor Raphael's works, And hear our melody. Th' harmonious notes Nor Titian's lively tints, adorn our walls ? Float with the stream; and every winding creek Yet these the meanest of us may behold; And hollow rock, that o'er the dimpling flood And at another's cost may feast at will Nods pendent, still improve from shore to shore Our wondering eyes; what can the owner more ? Our sweet reiterated joys. What shouts! But vain, alas! is wealth, not grac'd with power. What clamor loud! What gay heart-cheering sounds The flowery landscape, and the gilded dome, Urge through the breathing brass their mazy way! And vistas opening to the wearied eye, Nor quires of Tritons glad with sprightlier strains Through all his wide domain; the planted grove, The dancing billows, when proud Neptune rides The shrubby wilderness, with its gay choir In triumph o'er the deep. How greedily

Of warbling birds, can't lull to soft repose They snuff the fishy steam, that to each blade Th' ambitious wretch, whose discontented soul Rank-scenting clings! See ! how the morning dews Is harrow'd day and night; he mourns, he pines, They sweep, that from their feet besprinkling drop Until his prince's favor makes him great. Dispers'd, and leave a track oblique behind. See, there he comes, th' exalted idol comes ! Now on firm land they range; then in the flood The circle's form'd, and all his fawning slaves They plunge tumultuous; or through reedy pools Devoutly bow to earth; from every mouth Rustling they work their way: no hole escapes The nauseous flattery flows, which he returns Their curious search. With quick sensation now With promises, that die as soon as born. The fuming vapor stings; flutter their hearts, Vile intercourse! where virtue has no place. And joy redoubled bursts from every mouth Frown but the monarch; all his glories fade; In louder symphonies. Yon hollow trunk, He mingles with the throng, outcast, undone,

The pageant of a day; without one friend Spoke forth the wondrous scene. But if my soul
To soothe his tortur'd mind: all, all are fled. To this gross clay confin'd flutters on Earth
For, though they bask'd in his meridian ray, With less ambitious wing; unskill'd to range
The insects vanish, as his beams decline.

From orb to orb, where Newton leads the way; Not such our friends; for here no dark design, And view with piercing eyes the grand machine, No wicked interest, bribes the venal heart; Worlds above worlds ; subservient to his voice, But inclination to our bosom leads,

Who, veild in clouded majesty, alone And weds them there for life; our social cups Gives light to all ; bids the great system move, Smile, as we smile; open, and unreserv'd, And changeful seasons in their turns advance, We speak our inmost souls; good-humor, mirth, Unmov'd, unchang'd, himself: yet this at least Soft complaisance, and wit from malice free, Grant me propitious, an inglorious life, Smooth every brow, and glow on every cheek. Calm and serene, nor lost in false pursuits

O happiness sincere! what wretch would groan Of wealth or honors; but enough to raise Beneath the galling load of power, or walk My drooping friends, preventing modest Want Upon the slippery pavements of the great, That dares not ask. And if, to crown my joys, Who thus could reign, enenvied and secure ! Ye grant me health, that, ruddy in my cheeks,

Ye guardian powers who make mankind your care, Blooms in my life's decline; fields, woods, and Give me to know wiso Nature's hidden depths,

streams, Trace each mysterious cause, with judgment read Each towering hill, each humble vale below, Th' expanded volume, and submiss adore

Shall hear my cheering voice, my hounds shall wake That great creative Will, who at a word

The lazy Morn, and glad th' horizon round.


ALEXANDER POPE, an English poet of great emi- ample remuneration for his labor. This noble work Dence, was born in London in 1688. His father, was published in separate volumes, each containwho appears to have acquired wealth by trade, was ing four books; and the produce of the subscripa Roman Catholic, and being disaffected to the tion enabled him to take that house at Twickpolitics of King William, he retired to Binfield, in enham which he made so famous by his residence Windsor Forest, where he purchased a small house and decorations. He brought hither his father and with some acres of land, and lived frugally upon mother; of whom the first parent died two years the fortune he had saved. Alexander, who was from afterwards. The second long survived, to be cominfancy of a delicate habit of body, after learning to forted by the truly filial attentions of her son. About read and write at home, was placed about his eighth this period he probably wrote his Epistle from year under the care of a Romish priest, who taught " Eloisa to Abelard,” partly founded upon the exhim the rudiments of Latin and Greek. His nat- tant letters of these distinguished persons. He has ural fondness for books was indulged about this rendered this one of the most impressive poems of period by Ogilby's translation of Homer, and San- which love is the subject; as it is likewise the dy's of Ovid's Metamorphoses, which gave him most finished of all his works of equal length, in so much delight, that they may be said to have made point of language and versification. The exag. him a poet. He pursued his studies under different geration, however, which he has given to the most priests, to whom he was consigned. At length he impassioned expressions of Eloisa, and his devia. became the director of his own pursuits, the variety tions from the true story, have been pointed out by of which proved that he was by no means deficient Mr. Berrington in his lives of the two lovers. in industry, though his reading was rather excursive During the years in which he was chiefly engaged than methodical. From his early years poetry was with the lliad, he published several occasional adopted by him as a profession, for his poetical works, to which he usually prefixed very elegant reading was always accompanied with attempts at prefaces; but the desire of farther emolument inimitation or translation; and it may be affirmed duced him to extend his translation to the Odyssey, that he rose at once almost to perfection in this walk. in which task he engaged two inferior hands, His manners and conversation were equally beyond whom he paid out of the produce of a new subhis years; and it does not appear that he ever cul- scription. He himself, however, translated twelve tivated friendship with any one of his own age or books out of the twenty-four, with a happiness not condition.

inferior to his Iliad; and the transaction, conducted Pope's Pastorals were first printed in a volume in a truly mercantile spirit, was the source of conof Tonson's Miscellanies in 1709, and were generally siderable profit to him. After the appearance of admired for the sweetness of the versification, and the Odyssey, Pope almost solely made himself the lustre of the diction, though they betrayed a known as a satirist and moralist. In 1728 he pubwant of original observation, and an artificial cast lished the three first books of the “ Dunciad," a of sentiment: in fact, they were any thing rather kind of mock-heroic, the object of which was to than real pastorals. In the mean time he was exer- overwhelm with indelible ridicule all his antagocising himself in compositions of a higher class ; nists, together with some other authors whom spleen and by his “Essay on Criticism,” published two or party led him to rank among the dunces, though years afterwards, he obtained a great accession of they had given him no personal offence. Notwithreputation, merited by the comprehension of thought, standing that the diction and versification of this the general good sense, and the frequent beauty of poem are labored with the greatest care, we shall illustration which it presents, though it displays borrow nothing from it. Its imagery is often exmany of the inaccuracies of a juvenile author. In tremely gross and offensive; and irritability, ill. 1712 his Rape of the Lock,” a mock-heroic, nature, and partiality, are so prominent through the made its first appearance, and conferred upon him whole, that whatever he gains as a poet he loses as the best title he possesses to the merit of invention. a man. He has, indeed, a claim to the character of The machinery of the Sylphs was afterwards added, a satirist in this production, but none at all 10 that an exquisite fancy-piece, wrought with unrivalled of a moralist. skill and beauty. The “Temple of Fame," altered The other selected pieces, though not entirely from Chaucer, though partaking of the embarrass- free from the same defects, may yet be tolerated ; ments of the original plan, has many passages which and his poble work called the " Essay on Man," may rank with his happiest efforts.

which may stand in the first class of ethical poems, In the year 1713, Pope issued proposals for pub- does not deviate from the style proper to its topic. lishing a translation of Homer's Iliad, the success This piece gave an example of the poet's extraorof which soon removed all doubt of its making an dinary power of managing argumentation in verse, accession to his reputation, whilst it afforded an and of compressing his thoughts into clauses of 45

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the most energetic brevity, as well as of expanding tion of a Catholic friend, with the ceremonies of them into passages distinguished by every poetic that religion, he quietly expired on May 30th, 1744, ornament. The origin of this essay is, however, at the age of fifty-six. He was interred at Twickengenerally ascribed to Lord Bolingbroke, who was ham, where a monument was erected to his memory adopted by the author as his " guide, philosopher, by the commentator and legatee of his writings, and friend ;" and there is little doubt that, with re- bishop Warburton. spect to mankind in general, Pope adopted, without Regarded as a poet, while it is allowed that Pope always fully understanding, the system of Boling. was deficient in invention, his other qualifications broke.

will scarcely be disputed ; and it will generally be On his works in prose, among which a collection admitted that no English writer has carried to a of letters appears conspicuous, it is unnecessary here greater degree correctness of versification, strength to remark. His life was not prolonged to the period and splendor of diction, and the truly poetical of old age: an oppressive asthma indicated an early power of vivifying and adorning every subject that decline, and accumulated infirmities incapacitated he touched. The popularity of his productions has him from pursuing the plan he had formed for new been proved by their constituting a school of English works After having complied, through the instiga-l poetry, which in part continues to the present time.

Or virgins visited by angel-powers,
THE RAPE OF THE LOCK. With golden crowns and wreaths of heavenly flowers

Hear, and believe! thy own importance know,

Nor bound thy narrow views to things below.

Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal'd, Written in the Year 1712.

To maids alone and children are reveal'd;

What, though no credit doubting wits may give,
Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos ;

The fair and innocent shall still believe.
Sed juvat, hoc precibus me tribuigse tuis.


Know then, unnumber'd spirits round thee fly,

The light militia of the lower sky:
Canto I.

These, though unseen, are ever on the wing,

Hang o'er the box, and hover round the ring. What dire offence from amorous causes springs, Think what an equipage thou hast in air, What mighty contests rise from trivial things, And view with scorn two pages and a chair. I sing—this verse to Caryl, Muse! is due : As now your own, our beings were of old, This e'en Belinda may vouchsafe to view : And once inclos'd in woman's beauteous mould; Slight is the subject, but not so the praise, Thence, by a soft transition, we repair If she inspire, and he approve my lays.

From earthly vehicles to these of air. Say what strange motive, goddess! could compel Think not, when woman's transient breath is filed, A well-bred lord t' assault a gentle belle ?

That all her vanities at once are dead : O say what stranger causė, yet unexplor'd, Succeeding vanities she still regards, Could make a gentle belle reject a lord ?

And though she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards In tasks so bold, can little men engage ?

Her joy in gilded chariots, when alive, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage ? And love of ombre, after death survive.

Sol through white curtains shot a timorous ray, For when the fair in all their pride expire, And ope'd those eyes that must eclipse the day: To their first elements their souls retire: Now lap-dogs give themselves the rousing shake, The sprites of fiery termagants in flame And sleepless lovers, just at twelve, awake: Mount up, and take a Salamander's name. Thrice rung the bell, the slipper knock'd the ground, Soft yielding minds to water glide away, And the press'd watch return'd a silver sound. And sip, with nymphs, their elemental iea. Belinda still her downy pillow prest,

The graver prude sinks downward to a Gnome, Her guardian Sylph prolong'd the balmy rest : In search of mischief still on Earth to roam. "Twas he had summon'd to her silent bed

The light coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair, The morning dream that hover'd o'er her head. And sport and flutter in the fields of air. A youth more glittering than a birth-night beau “Know farther yet; whoever fair and chaste (That ev'n in slumber caus'd her cheek to plow) Rejects mankind, is by some Sylph embrac'd : Seem'd to her ear his winning lips to lay, For, spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease And thus in whispers said, or seem'd to say: Assume what sexes and what shapes they please.

"Fairest of mortals, thou distinguish'd care What guards the purity of melting maids, Of thousand bright inhabitants of air!

In courtly balls, and midnight masquerades, If e'er one vision touch thy infant thought, Safe from the treacherous friend, the daring spark, Of all the nurse and all the priest have taught; The glance by day, the whisper in the dark, Of airy elves by moonlight shadows seen, When kind occasion prompts their warm desires, The silver token, and the circled green,

When music sostens, and when dancing fires ?


"Tis but their Sylph, the wise celestials know, | The busy Sylphs surround their darling care:
Though honor is the word with men below. These set the head, and those divide the hair;
“Some nymphs there are, too conscious of their Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown,

And Betty's prais'd for labors not her own.
For life predestin'd to the Gnome's embrace.
These swell their prospects, and exalt their pride,
When offers are disdain'd, and love denied :

Then gay ideas crowd the vacant brain,
While peers, and dukes, and all their sweeping train,
And garters, stars, and coronets appear,

Not with more glories in th' ethereal plain,
And in soft sounds, 'your grace' salutes their ear. The Sun first rises o'er the purpled main,
'Tis these that early taint the female soul, Than, issuing forth, the rival of his beams
Instruct the eyes of young coquettes to roll,

Launch'd on the bosom of the silver'd Thames. Teach infant cheeks a bidden blush to know, Fair nymphs and well-dress'd youths around her And little hearts to flutter at a beau.

shone, “Oft, when the world imagine women stray, But every eye was fix'd on her alone. The Sylphs through mystic mazes guide their way, On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Through all the giddy circle they pursue,

Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore. And old impertinence expel by new.

Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,
What tender maid but must a victim fall

Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those :
To one man's treat, but for another's ball ? Favors to none, to all she smiles extends ;
When Florio speaks, what virgin could withstand, Oft she rejects, but never once offends.
If gentle Damon did not squeeze her hand? Bright as the Sun, her eyes the gazers strike,
With varying vanities, from every part,

And, like the Sun, they shine on all alike.
They shift the moving Toy-shop of their heart; Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride,
Where wigs with wigs, with sword-knots sword- Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide :
knots strive,

If to her share some female errors fall, Beaux banish beaux, and coaches coaches drive. Look on her face, and you 'll forget them all. This erring mortals levity may call;

This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, Oh, blind to truth! the Sylphs contrive it all. Nourish'd two locks, which graceful hung behind,

“Of these am I, who thy protection claim, In equal curls, and well conspir'd to deck A watchful sprite, and Ariel is my name. With shining ringlets the smooth ivory neck. Late, as I rang'd the crystal wilds of air,

Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, In the clear mirror of thy ruling star

And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. I saw, alas ! some dread event impend,

With hairy springes we the birds betray; Ere to the main this morning sun descend;

Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey ; But Heaven reveals not what, or how, or where. Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, Warn'd by the Sylph, oh pious maid, beware! And Beauty draws us with a single hair. This to disclose is all thy guardian can:

Th’adventurous baron the bright locks admir'd Beware of all, but most beware of man!" [long, He saw, he wish'd, and to the prize aspir'd.

He said ; when Shock, who thought she slept too Resolv'd to win, he meditates the way, Leap'd up, and wak'd his mistress with his tongue. By force to ravish, or by fraud betray; "Twas then, Belinda, if report say true,

For when success a lover's toil attends, Thy eyes first open'd on a billet-doux;

Few ask if fraud or force attain'd his ends. Wounds, charms, and ardors were no sooner read, For this, ere Phæbus rose, he had implor'd But all the vision vanish'd from thy head. Propitious Heaven, and every power ador'd;

And now, unveil'd, the toilet stands display'd, But chiefly Love-to Love an altar built, Each silver vase in mystic order laid.

of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. First, rob'd in white, the nymph intent adores, There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves, With head uncover'd, the cosmetic powers. And all the trophies of his former loves. A heavenly image in the glass appears,

With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, To that she bends, to that her eyes she rears;

And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire. Th' inferior priestess, at her altar's side,

Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes Trembling, begins the sacred rites of Pride. Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize : Unnumber'd treasures ope at once, and here The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer; The various offerings of the world appear ; The rest, the winds dispers’d in empty air. From each she nicely culls with curious toil, But now secure the painted vessel glides, And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil. The sunbeams trembling on the floating rides : This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, While melting music steals upon the sky, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box.

And soften'd sounds along the waters die ; The tortoise here and elephant unite,

Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gentle play, Transform’d to combs, the speckled and the white. Belinda smil'd, and all the world was gay, Here files of pins extend their shining rows, All but the Sylph--with careful thoughts opprest, Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billet-doux. Th' impending woe sat heavy on his breast. Now awful Beauty puts on all its arms;

He summons straight his denizens of air; The fair each moment rises in her charms, The lucid squadrons round the sails repair : Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace,

Soft o'er the shrouds aëreal whispers breathe, And calls forth all the wonders of her face: That seem'd but zephyrs to the train beneath. Sees by degrees a purer blush arise,

Some to the Sun their insect wings unfold, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes. Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold ;

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