"Hymn by the late Duchess of Devonshire. Et. 13. "When I behold with wond'ring eyes Each flower, each shrub, conspires to sing The praises of the eternal King, Who gave each shrub, each flow'r its dye. Who gave the sun its balmy heat? Who bids the thunder loudly roll? Who made the universe complete, And form'd the earth from pole to pole? With me in Hallelujahs join To sing our holy Maker's praise; In choral hymn, or song divine, In prayer and thanks our voices raise." Sept. 1, 1808. N° XLIV. On the Latin Poems of Cowley. THE Latin poems of Cowley," which are not I think some of my readers will not be dis- First printed 1668, 8vo. in which are included, Plantarum Habeo quod carmine sanet & herbis. Ovid Metam. 10. Huic editioni secundæ accessit Index Rerum antebac desideratus. Londini typis M. Clarke, Impensis Jo. Martyn, ad Insigne 9 See Johnson's Lives of the Poets, and Warton's Preface more willingly, because I have heard it objected, I think, with too narrow views, that my ruminations are not sufficiently confined to subjects of literature. Limits I have always imposed on myself, which have restrained me from discussing many topics of life and manners, that would both have been pleasing to myself, and have given a greater diversity to my pages. But there are those who would confine me within bounds, to which I cannot submit to be chained. Cowley is never more eloquent than when he descants on the pleasures of Solitude, whether in Latin or English. "Solitudo. "Rura laudamus merito poetæ, Nubilus aer. Nam prius crescet seges in plateis, Sponte nascentes, prius ipsa civis Fiet et herba. T f Urbe quam surgat media bonorum Carminum messis; bona semper urbem Carmina oderunt, neque nutrit omnis Rure, Persarum veluti tyrannus, Arbores salvete, bonæque sylvæ, Hic jacens vestris temere sub umbris, O sacrum risum juvenilis anni! Cum calor totos penetrans per artus Suscitat orbis. 9 This is a translation of some beautiful lines in his English poem on Solitude. "Here let me careless and unthoughtful lying, Hear the soft winds above me flying, With all their wanton boughs dispute." Hic mihi æstivo domus apta sole, Audiam hic proni per aprica collis Esse qui secum nequit occupatus, Tædio, aut caras male collocabit "Here Nature does a house for me erect, Nature, the wisest architect, Who those fond artists does despise, That can the fair and living trees neglect; Yet the dead timber prize." Ibid. "A silver stream shall roll his waters near, "Ah wretched and too solitary he, Ibid. |