VII.

"And Thou, dull, fullen Ever-green!
"Shalt Thou my fhining Sphere invade?
66 My Noon-day Beauties beam unseen,
"Obscur'd beneath thy dufky Shade!"

VIII.

"Deluded Flower !" the Myrtle cries,
"Shall we thy Moment's Bloom adore?
"The meanest Shrub that you despise,
"The meaneft Flower has Merit more.

IX.

"That Daisy, in its fimple Bloom,
"Shall laft along the changing Year;
"Blush on the Snow of Winter's Gloom,
"And bid the fmiling Spring appear.

X.

"The Violet, that, thofe Banks beneath,
"Hides from thy Scorn its modest Head,
"Shall fill the Air with fragrant Breath,
"When thou art in thy dufty Bed.

XI.

"Ev'n I who boast no golden Shade, "Am of no fhining Tints poffeft,

"When low thy lucid Form is laid, "Shall bloom on many a lovely Breast. XII." And

XII.

"And he, whofe kind and fostering Care
"To thee, to me, our Beings gave,
"Shall near his Breast my Flowrets wear,
"And walk regardless o'er thy Grave.

XIII.

"Deluded Flower! the friendly Screen, "That hides thee from the Noon-tide Ray, "And mocks thy Paffion to be seen,

"But kindly Deeds with Scorn repaid,
"No more by Virtue need be done:
"I now withdraw my dufky Shade,
"And yield thee to thy darling Sun."

XV.

Fierce on the Flower the fcorching Beam
With all its Weight of Glory fell;
The Flower exulting caught the Gleam,
And lent its Leaves a bolder Swell.

XVI.

Expanded by the searching Fire,

The curling Leaves the Breaft difclos'd; The mantling Bloom was painted higher, And ev'ry latent Charm expos'd.

XVII. But

XVII.

But when the Sun was fliding low,

And Ev❜ning came, with Dews fo cold; The wanton Beauty ceas'd to blow,

And fought her bending Leaves to fold.

XVIII.

Those Leaves, alas, no more would clofe;
Relax'd, exhausted, fickening, pale;
They left her to a Parent's Woes,
And fled before the rifing Gale.

I think there cannot be any great Impropriety in the Indulgence of Poetical Amusements of this moral Nature, even at my far advanced 'Time of Life. You found fome Difficulty, notwithstanding, to bring me over to this Opinion; and I cannot yet think that an old Man can spend his Time very properly in what you call the Circle of the Muses and the Graces. There is one John Milton, an old Commonwealth's Man, who hath, in the latter Part of his Life, written a Poem intitled Paradife Loft; and to fay the Truth, it is not without fome Fancy and bold Invention. But I am much better pleased with. fome fmaller Productions of his in the Scenical

and

and Paftoral Way; one of which, called Lycidas, I fhall herewith fend you, that you may have fome Amends for the Trouble of reading this bad Poetry.

LETTER

3

I

LETTER IV.

ST. EVREMOND to WALLER.

THANK

you for your Vegetable Fable, and have long thought as you do, that a very beautiful Collection of moral Poems of the fame Kind might be drawn from that Part of Nature. The Enthusiasm that would be excited by the Scenery in general, and the Pleasure which might arife from the minuter Beauties of Defcription, would give to Compofitions of this fort many evident Advantages. Nature is a much better Moralift than Seneca or Epictetus, and gives her Leffons both more agreeably and more effectually.

The Poem called Lycidas, which you fay is written by Mr. Milton, has given me much Pleafure. It has in it what I conceive to be the true Spirit of Paftoral Poetry, the old Arcadian Enthufiasm. Your English Poets have been strangely mistaken, when they have thought it poffible to accommodate the Genius of this Poetry to the inelegant Simplicity of your Clowns. Your Spenfer, in other Respects an agreeable Painter of Nature,