Farewell then, Cities; Courts and Camps, farewell;
Welcome ye Groves! here let me ever dwell;
From cares, from bus’neſs and mankind, remove,
All but the Muſes and inſpiring Love.
How ſweet the morn, how gentle is the night!95
How calm the ev’ning, and the day how bright!
From hence, as from a hill, I view below
The crowded world, a mighty wood in ſhow!
Where ſev’ral wand’rers travel day and night
By diff’rent paths, and none are in the right.100
TO MY FRIEND
MR. JOHN DRYDEN,
On his ſeveral excellent Tranſlations of the Ancient Poets.
As flow’rs tranſplanted from a ſouthern ſky
But hardly bear, or in the raiſing die;
Miſſing their native ſun at beſt retain
But a faint odour, and ſurvive with pain;
Thus ancient wit, in modern numbers taught,5
Wanting the warmth with which its author wrote,
Is a dead image and a ſenſeleſs draught:
While we transfuſe the nimble ſpirit flies,
Eſcapes unſeen, evaporates, and dies.
Who then to copy Roman wit deſire10
Muſt imitate with Roman force and fire,
