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They unconcern'd, from their safe distant seat,
Behold the rods and sceptres of the great ;

Hor. Erop. ODE 11.
The quarrels of the mighty without fear,
And the descent of foreign troops, they hear; Alappy the man, whom bounteous gods allow
Nor can ev'n Rome their steady course misguide, With his own hands paternal grounds to plough
With all the lustre of her perishing pride.

Like the first golden mortals happy, be, Them never yet did strife or avarice draw

From business and the cares of money free! Into the noisy markets of the law,

No human storms break off at land his sleep; , The camps of gowned war; nor do they live No loud alarms of nature, on the deep: By rules or forms, that many madmen give.

From all the cheats of law he lives secure, Duty for Nature's bounty they repay,

Nor does th' affronts of palaces endure. And her sole laws religiously obey. [main, Sometimes, the beauteous, marriageable vine

Some with bold labour plough the faithless He to the lusty bridegroom elm does join : Some rougher storms in prince's courts sustain : Sometimes he lops the barren trees around, Some swell up their slight sails with popular fame And grafts new life into the fruitful wound; Charm'd with the foolish whistlings of a name: Sometlmes he shears his flock, and sometimes he Some their vain wealth to earth again commit: Stores up the golden treasures of the bce. With endless cares some brooding o’er it sit: He sces his lowing herds walk o'er the plain, Country and friends are by some wretches sold, Whilst neighbouring hills lowe back to them To lie on Tyrian beds, and drink in gold;

again; No price too high for profit can be shown; | And, when the season, rich as well as gay, Not brother's blood, nor hazards of their own : All her autumnal bounty does display, Around the world in search of it they roam, How is he pleas'd th' increasing use to see It makes ey'n their antipodes their home; Of his well-trusted labours bend the tree! Meanwhile, the prudent husbandman is found, Of which large shares, on the glad sacred days, In mutual duties striving with his ground,

He gives to friends, and to the gods repays. And half the year he cue of that does take, With how much joy does he, beneath some shade That half the year grateful returns does make. | By aged trees' reverend embraces made, Each fertile month does some new gifts present, His careless head on the fresh green recline, And with new work his industry content.

His head uncharg'd with fear or with design. This the young lamb, that the soft fleece, doth | Dy him a river constantly complains, yield;

| The birds above rejoice with various strains, This loads with hay, and that with corn, the field : / And in the solemn scene their orgies keep, All sorts of fruit crown the rich autumi's pride: Like dreams, mix'd with the gravity of sleep! And on a swelling hill's warm stony side,

Sleep, which does always there for entrance wait, The powerful princely purple of the vine, And nought within against it shuts the gate. Twice dy'd with the redoubled Sun, does shine. Nor does the roughest season of the sky, In th' evening to a fair ensuing day,

Or sullen Jove, all sports to him deny. With joy he sees his flocks and kids to play: He runs the mazes of the niinble hare, And loaded kine about his cottage stand,

His well-moutli'd dogs' glad concert rends the Inviting with known sound the milker's hand; Or with game bolder, and rewarded more, [air; And when from wholesome labour he doth come, | He drives into a toil the foaming boar; With wishes to be there, and wish'd-for home, Here flies the hawk t' assault, and there the net He meets at duor the softest human blisses, { To intercept, the travailing fowl, is set; His chaste wife's welcome, and dear children's | And all his malice, all his craft, is shown kisses.

In innocent wars on beasts and birds alone. When any rural holidays invite

This is the life from all misfortunes free, His genius forth to innocent delight,

From thee, the great one, tyrant Love, from On earth's fair bed, bi neath some sacred shade,

thee; Amidst his equal friends carelessly laid,

And, if a chaste and clean, though homely wife He sings thee, Bacchus, patron of the vine; Be added to the blessings of this life, The beechen bowl foams with a flood of wine, Such as the ancient Sun-burnt Sabios were, Not to the loss of reason, or of strength:

Such as Apulia, frugal still, dues bear,-To active games and manly sport, at length, Who makes her children and the house her care, Their mirth ascends, and with filld vcins they see And joyfully the work of life does share, Who can the best at better trials be.

Nor thjuks herself too noble or too fine From such the old Hetrurinn virtue rose; | To pin the sheepfold or to milch the kine; Such was the life the prudent Sabins chose: Who waits at door against her husband come Such, Remus, and the god his brother, led; From rural duties, late and wearied, home, From such firm-footing Ronie grew the world's Where she receives him with a kind einbrace, head.

A cheerful fire, and a more cheerful face; Such was the life that, ev'n till now, does raise And fills the bowl up to her homely lord, The honour of poor Saturn's golden days:

And with domestic plenty loads the board; Before men, born of earth, and buried there, Not all the lustful shell-fish of the sea, Let-in the sea their mortal fate to share:

Dress'd by the wanton hand of Luxury, Before new ways of perishing were sought; Not ortolans, nor godwits, nor the rest Before unskilful death on anvils wrought; Of costly names that glorify a feast, Before those beasts, which human life sustain, Are at the princely tables better cheer, By men, unless to the gods use, were slain. Than lamo and kid, lettuce and olives, here.

THE COUNTRY MOUSE.

| Behind a hanging, in a spacious room

(The richest work of Mortclake's noble loom) A Paraphrase upon HORACE, Book II. Sat. vi. They wait a while, their wearied limbs to rest,

Till silence should invite them to their feast. Ar the largest foot of a fair hollow tree,

“ About the hour that Cynthia's silver light Close to plough'd ground, seated commodiously,

Had touch'd the pale meridies of the night ;" His ancient and hereditary house,

At last, the various supper being done, There dwelt a good substantial country mouse;

It happen'd that the company was gone Frugal, and grave, and careful of the main,

Into a room remote, servants and all, Yet one who once did nobly entertain

To please their noble fancies with a ball. A city mouse, well-coated, sleek, and gay,

Our host leads forth his stranger, and does find A mouse of high degree which lost his way,

Al fitted to the bounties of his mind. Wantonly walking forth to take the air,

Still on the table half-bill'd dishes stood, And arriv'd early, and belighted, there,

And with delicious bits the floor was strew'd. For a day's lodging: the good hearty host

The courteous mouse presents him with the best, (The ancient plenty of his hall to boast)

And both with fat varieties are blest. Did all the stores produce, that might excite,

Th'industrious peasant every where does range, With various tastes, the courtier's appetite.

And thanks the Gods for his life's happy change. Fitches and beans, peason and oats, and whcat,

Lo! in the midst of a well-freighted pye, And a large chesnut, the delicious meat Teat. | They both at last glutted and wanton lie ; Which Jove himself, were he a mouse, would

e. would | When, see the sad reverse of prosperous fate, And, for a haut goust, there was mixt with these

And what fierce storms on mortal glories wait! The swerd of bacon, and the coat of cheese :

With hideous noise down the rude servants come, The precious reliques which, at harvest, he

Six dogs before run barking into th' room; Had gather'd from the reaper's luxury.

The wretched gluttons fly with wild affright, “ Freely” (said he) “ fall on, and never spare,

And hate the fullness, which retards their fight. The bounteous gods will for to morrow care.''

Our trembling peasant wishes now, in vain, And thus at ease, on beds of straw, they lay,

That rocks and mountains cover'd him again; And to their genius sacrific'd the day:

Oh, how the change of his poor life he curst! Yet the nice guest's Epicurean mind,

“ This, of all lives” (said he) “ is sure the worst : (Though breeding made him civil seem and kind)

Give me again, ye gods, my cave and wood ! Despis'd this country feast; and still his thougbt | With peace, let tares and acorns be my food!” Upon the cakes and pies of London wrought. “ Your bounty and civility” (said he), " Which I'm surpris'd in these rude parts to see, Shows that the gods have given you a mind

A PARAPHRASE UPON The 10th EPISTLE OF THE Too noble for the fate which here you find.

First Book of HORACE.
Why should a soul, so virtuous and so great,
Lose itself thus in an obscure retreat ?

HORACE TO FUSCUS ARISTIUS.
Let savage beasts lodge in a country den ;
You should see towns, and manners know, and | HEALTH, from the lover of the country, me,.
men;

Health, to the lover of the city, thee; And taste the generous luxury of the court,

A difference in our souls, this only proves ; Where all the mice of quality resort;

| In all things else, we agree like married doves. Where thousand beauteous shes about you move, | But the warm nest and crowded dove house thon And, by high fare, are pliant made to love.

| Dost like; I loosely fly from baugh to bough, We all, ere long, must render up our breath; And rivers drink, and all the shining day No cave or hole can shelter us from death.

Upon fair trees or mossy rocks I play; Since life is so uncertain, and so short,

In fine, I live and reign, when I retire Let's spend it all in feasting and in sport.

From all that you equal with Heaven admire: Come, worthy sir, come with me and partake

| Like one at last from the priest's service filed, All the great things that mortals happy make."

Loathing the honied cakes, I long for bread. Alas ! what virtue hath sufficient arms

Would I a house for happiness erect, T oppose bright honour, and soft pleasure's | Nature alone should be the architect, charms:

She'd build it more convenient than great, What wisdom can their magic force repel ?

And doubtless in the country choose her seat; It draws this reverend hermit from his cell. Is there a place doth better helps supply It was the time, when witty poets tell,

Against the wounds of Winter's cruelty

Is there an air, that gentlier does assuage She blush'd at first, and then put out the light,

The mad celestial Dog's, or Lion's, rage ? And drew the modest curtains of the night." Is it not there that sleep(and only there) Plainly the truth to tell, the Sun was set, Nor noise without, nor cares within, does fear? When to the town our wearied travellers get : Does art through pipes a purer water bring, To a lord's house, as lordly as can be,

Than that, which Nature strains into a spring ? Made for the use of pride and luxury,

Can all your tap'stries, or your pictures show They come; the gentle courtier at the door More beauties, than in herbs and flowers do Stops, and will hardly enter in before:

grow? “ But 'tis, sir, your command, and being so, Fountains and trees our wearied pride do please, I'm sworn t'obedience; and so in they go.” Ev'n in the midst of gilded palaces,

And in your towns, that prospect gives delight, | The specious inconveniences, that wait
Which opens round the country to our sight. ('pon a life of business, and of state,
Men to the good, from which they rashly fly, He sees (nor does the sight disturb his rest
Return at last; and their wild luxury

By fools desir', by wicked men possest.
Does but in vain with those true joys contend, Thus, thtis (and this deserv'd great Virgil's
Which Nature did to mankind recommend.

praise)
The man who changes gold for burnish'd brass, The old Corycian yeoman pass'd his days;
Or small right gems for larger ones of glass, Thus his wise life Abdolonymus spent :
Is not, at length, rr ore certain to be made

Th' ambassadors, which the great emperor sent Ridiculous, and wretched by the trade,

To offer him a crown, with wonder found Than he, who sells a solid good, to buy

The reverend gardener hocing of his ground; The painted goods of pride and vanity.

Uuwillingly, and slow, and discontent, If thou be wise, no glorious fortune choose, From his lov'd cottage to a throne he went ; Which 'tis but pain to keep, yet grief to lose! And oft he stopt, in his triumphant way: For, when we place ev'n trifles in the heart, And oft look'd back, and oft was heard to say, With trifles too, unwillingly we part.

Not without sighs, Alas! I there forsake An humble roof, plain bed, and homely board, A happier kingrom than I go to take ! More clear, untainted pleasures do afford,

Thus Aglaüs (a man unknown to men, Than all the tumult of rain greatness brings But i he gods knew, and therefore lov'd him then To kings, or to the favourites of kings.

Thus liv'd obscurely then without a name, The horned deer, by nature arm'd so well, Aglaüs, now consign'd t' eternal fame. Did with the horse in common pasture dwell, For Gyges, the rich king, wicked and great, And, when they fought, the field it always wan, Presum'd, at wise Apollo's Delphic seat reye, Till the ambitious horse begg'd help of man, Presum'd, to ask, “ Oh thou, the whole world's And took the bridle, and thenceforth did reign Sce'st thou a man that happier is than I?”. Bravely alone, as lord of all the plain ;

The god, who scorn'd to flatter man, reply'd, But never after could the rider get

“ Aglaüs happier is.” But Gyges cry'd, From off his back, or from his mouth the bit. In a proud rage, “Who can that Aglaüs be! So they, who poverty too much do fear,

We have heard, as yet, of no such king as he." Tavoid that weight, a greater burthen bear; And true it was, through the whole Earth around That they might power above their equals have, No king of such a name was to be found. To cruel masters they themselves enslave.

“ Is some old hero of that name alive, For gold, their liberty exchang'd we see,

Who his high race docs from the gods derive? That fairest flower which crowns humanity 3. Is it some mighty general, that has done And all this mischief does upon them light, Wonders in fight, and god-like honours won ? Only, because they know not how, aright,

Is it some man of endless wealth ?” said he. That great, but secret, happiness to prize, “ None, none of these.” “Who can this Aglais That 's laid up in a little, for the wise :

After long search, and vain inquiries past, (be? That is the best and easiest estate,

In an obscure Arcadian vale at last Which to a man sits close, but not too strait; (Th’ Arcadian life has always shady been) 'Tis like a shoe ; it pinches and it burns,

Near Sopho's town (which he but once had seen) Too narrow; and too large, it overturns.

This Aglaüs, who monarch's enry drew, My dearest friend ! stop thy desires at last, Whose happiness the gods stood witness to, And chearfuly enjoy the wealth thou hast : This mighty Aglaüs, was labouring found, And, if me still seeking for more you see,

With his own hands, in his own little ground. Chide and reproach, despise and laugh at me. So, gracious God! (if it may lawful be, Money was made, not to command our will, Among those foolish gods to mention thee) But all our lawful pleasures to fulfil :

So let me act, on such a private stage,
Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey; The last dull scenes of my declinmg age;
The horse doth with the horseman run away. After long toils and voyages in vain,

This quiet port let my tost vessel gain;
Of heavenly rest, this earnest to me lend,

Let my life sleep, and learn to love her end.
THE COUNTRY LIFE.

Lib. IV. Plantarum.

v. Blest be the man (and blest he is) whom e'er

THE GARDE.V.
(Plac'd far out of the roads of hone or fear)
A little field, and little garden, feeds :

To J. Evelyn, Esquire.
The field gives all that frugal Nature needs;
The wealthy garden liberally bestows
All she can ask, when she luxurious grows.

I never had any other desire so strong and so

like to covetousness, as that one which I have 3 The poet, as usual, expresses his own feeling : had always, that I might be master at last of a but he does more, he expresses it very classically. small house and large garden, with very mode. The allusion is to the ancient custom of wearing rate conveniences joined to them, and there de. wreaths or garlands of flowers, on any occasion of dicate the remainder of my life only to the cul. joy and festivity. Hurd.

ture of them, and study of nature;

And there (with no design beyond my wall) whole ( recommend to mankind the search of that fea and entire to lie,

licity, which you instruct them how to find and In no unactive case, and no unglorious poverty. to enjoy,

Or as Virgil has said, shorter and better for me Happy art thou, whom God does bless that I might there

With the full choice of thine own happiness;

And happier yet, because thou 'rt blest Studiis florere ignobilis oti 4:

With prudence, how to choose the best:

In books and gardens thou hast plac'd aright (though I could wish that he had rather said, (Things, which thou well dost understand ; nobilis oti, when he spoke of his own) But And both dost make with thy laborious hand) several accidents of my ill-fortune have disap Thy noble, innocent delight; pointed me hitherto, and do still, of that feli And in thy virtuous wife, where thou again dost city; for though I have made the first and

mect hardest, step to it, by abandoning all ambitions Both pleasures more refin'd and sweet ; and hopes in this world, and by retiring from the The fairest garden in her looks, noise of all business and almost company, yet I

And in her mind the wisest books. stick still in the inn of a hired house and gardien, Oh, who would change these soft, yet solid joys, among weeds and rubbish; and without that For empty shows and senseless noise ; pleasantest work of human industry, the im. And all which rank ambition breeds, provement of something which we call (not very Which seem such beauteous flowers, and are properly, but yet we call) our own. I am gone

such poisonous weeds ? out from Sodom, but I ain liot yet arrived at my little Zoar. " O let me escape thither (is it not / When God did man to his own likeness make, a little one?) and my soul shall live." I do not As much as clay, though of the purest kind, look back yet; but I have been forced to stop, By the great potter's art refin'd, and make too many halts. You may wonder, Could the divine impression take, sir, (for this seems a little tvo extravagant and He thought it fit to place him, where pindarical for prose) what I mean by all this A kind of Heaven too did appear, preface; it is to let you know, that though I | As far as Earth could such a likeness bear: ' have missed, like a chymist, my great end, yet That man no happiness might want, I account my affections and endeavours well re- | Which Earth to her first master could afford, warded by something that I have met with by He did a garden for him plant the by ; which is, that they have procured to By the quick hand of his omnipotent word. me some part in your kindness and esteem; and | As the chief help and joy of human life, thereby the honour of having my name so ad- He gave him the first gift; first, ev'n before a vantageously recommended to posterity, by the

wife. epistle you are pleased to prefix to the most useful book that has been written in that kind , For God, the universal architect, and which is to last as long as months and T had been as easy to erect years.

| A Louvre or Escurial, or a tower Among many other arts and excellencies, That might with Heaven communication hold, which you enjoy, I am glad to find this favour- | As Babel vainly thought to do of old : ite of mine the most predominant; that you ? He wanted not the skill or power; choose this for your wife, though you have In the world's fabric those were shown, hundreds of other arts for your concubines; And the materials were all his own. though you know them, and beget sons upon | But well he knew, what place would best agree them all (to which you are rich enough to allow | With innocence and with felicity; great legacies), yet the issue of this seems to be And we elsewhere still seek for them in vain; designed by you to the main of the estate; you if any part of either yet remain, have taken most pleasure in it, and bestowed | If any part of either we expect, most charges upon its eclucation : and I doubt This may our judgment in the search direct; not to see that book, which you are pleased to God the first garden made, and the first city promise to the world, and of which you have

Cain. given us a large earnest in your calendar, as accomplished, as any thing can be expected blessed shades! O gentle, cool retreat from an extraordinary wit, and no ordinary ex From all th’immoderate heat, penses, and a long experience. I know nobody In which the frantic world does burn and sweat! that possesses more private happiness than you This does the Lion-star, ambition's rage; do in your garden; and yet no man, who makes This avarice, the Dog-star's thirst, assuage; his happiness more public, by a free communi- Every where else their fatal power we see, cation of the art and knowledge of it to others. They make and rule inan's wretched destiny : All that I myself am able yet to do, is only to They neither set, nor disappear,

But tyrannize o'er all the year ; 4 Virg. Georg. iv. 564.

Whilst we ne'er feel their flame or influence 5 Mr. Evelyn's Kalendarium hortense; de

here. dicated to Mr Cowley-The title explains the The birds that dance from bough to bough, propriety of the compliment, that this book was Aud sing above in every tree, to last as long as mcnths and years. HURD.

Are not from fears and cares more free

Than we, who lie, or sit, or walk, below, | When the great Hebrew king did almost strain And should by right be singers too.

The wondrous treasures of his wealth and brain, What prince's choir of music can excel

His royal southern guest to entertain; That, which within this shade dues dwell ?

Though she on silver floors did tread, To which we rrothing pay or give;

| With bright Assyrian carpets on them spread, They, like all other poets, live

To hide the metal's poverty; Without reward, or thanks for their obliging Though she look'd up to roofs of gold, pains:

Ard nought around her could behold 'Tis well if they become not prey:

But silk and rich embroidery,
The whistling winds add their less artful strains

And Babylonish tapestry,
And a grave bass the murmuring fountains play; And wealthy Hiram's princely dye;
Nature does all this harmony bestow,

| Though Ophir's starry stones met every where But to our plants, art's music too,

her eye; The pipe, theorbo, and guittar, we owe;

Though she herself and her gay host were drest The lute itself, wh‘ch once was green and mute, | With all the shining glories of the East;

When Orpheus strook th' inspired Inte, | When lavish Art her costly work had done, The trees danc'd round, and understood

The honour and the prize of bravery By sympathy the voice of wood.

Was by the garden from the palace won;

And every rose and lily there did stand These are the spells, that to kind sleep invite,

Better attir'd by Nature's hand 7. And nothing does within resistance make, The case thus judg'd against the king we see, Which yet we moderately take;

By one, that would not be so rich, though wiser Who would not choose to be awake,

far than he. While he's encompast round with such delight, To th' ear, the nose, the touch, the taste, and Nor does this happy place only dispense sight!

Such various pleasures to the sense; When Venus would her dear Ascanius keep

Here health itself does live, A prisoner in the downy bands of sleep,

That salt of life, which does to all a relish give, She odorous herbs and flowers beneath him Its standing pleasure, and intrinsic wealth, spread,

| The body's virtue, and the soul's good-fortune, As the most soft and sweetest bed ; [head.

health. Not her own lap would more have charm'd his The tree of life, when it in Eden stcod, Who, that has reason, and his smell,

Did its immortal head to Heaven rear; Would not among roses and jasmine dwell, It lasted a tall cedar, till the flood; Rather than all his spirits chcak

Now a small thorny shrub it does appear ; With exhalations of dirt and smoke,

Nor will it thrive too every where : And all th' uncleanness which does drown,

It always here is freshest seen; In pestilential clouds, a populous town?

"This only here an ever-green. The earth itself breathes better perfumes here,

If, through the strong and beauteous fence Than all the female men, or women, there,

Of temperance and innocence, Not without cause, about them bear.

| And wholesome labours, and a quiet mind,

Any diseases passage find, When Epicurus to the world had taught,

They must not think here to assail That pleasure was the chiefest good,

| A land unarmed or without a guard; (And was, perhaps, i'th' right, if rightly under- They must fight for it, and dispute it hard,

His life he to his doctrine brought, [stood) Before they can prevail: And in a garden 's shade that sovereign pleasure Scarce any plant is growing here, sought :

| Which against death some weapon does not Whoever a true epicure would be,

bear. May there find cheap and virtuous luxury.

Let cities boast, that they provide Vitellius's table, which did hold

For life the oruaments of pride; As many creatures as the ark ofold;

But 'tis the country and the field,
That fiscal table, to which every day

That furnish it with staff and sbield.
All countries did a constant tribute pay,
Could nothing more delicious afford

Where does the wisdom and the power divine
Tban Nature's liberality,

In a inore bright and sweet reflection shine ? Help'd with a little art and industry,

Where do we finer strokes and colours see Allows the meanest gardener's board.

Of the Creator's real poetry,
The wanton taste no fish or fowl can choose,

Than when we with attention look
For which the grape or melon she would lose; | Upon the third day's voluine of the book ?
Though all th’inhabitants of sea and air

If we could open and intend our eye,
Ee listed in the glutton's bill of fare,

We all, like Moses, should espy Yet still the fruits of earth we see

Evin in a bush the radiant Deity. Plac'd the third story high in all her luxury. But we despise these his inferior ways

(Though no less full of miracle and praise) : But with no sense the garden does comply,

Upon the flowers of Heaven we gaze; None courts, or flatters, as it does, the eye.

The stars of Earth no wonder in us raise,

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