magna parens frugum Saturnia tellus, Magna virum! tibi res antiquæ laudis et artis Aggredior, fantos aufus recludere fontes.
HILE you, my Lord, the rural fhades admire,
And from Britannia's public pofts retire,
Nor longer, her ungrateful fons to please,
For their advantage facrifice your ease;
Me into foreign realms my fate conveys,
Through nations fruitful of immortal lays,
Where the foft season and inviting clime
Confpire to trouble your repose with rhime.
Ovunque in giri i miei rapiti lumi,
Scene auree, liete, e chiare vifte inalzanfi,,
Attornianmi poetiche campagne,
Parmi ognor di calcar claffico fuolo;
Si fovente ivi Mufa accordò l' arpa,
Che non cantato nium colle forgevi, .
Celebre in verfi ivi ogni pianta crefce,
E in celefte armonia ciafcum rio corre.
Come mi giova a cercar poggi, e bofchi i
Per chiare fonti, e celebrati fiumi,›
Alla Nera veder fiera in fuo corfo
Tracciar Clitumno chiaro in fua forgente,
Veder condur fua fchiera d'acque il Mincio
Per lunghi giri di feconda ripa,
E d'Albula canuta il guado infetto ·
Suo caldo letto di fumante folfo.
Di mille eftafi accefo io fopraveggio
Correre il Po per praterie fiorite
De fumi re, che sovra i pian scorrendo,
Le torreggianti Alpi in natia muraglia
Della metà di loro umore afciuga:
Superbo, e gonfio dell' hiberne nevi
L'abbondanza comparte ov egli correa ·
Talor fmarrito dal drappel fonoro
I rii rimiro immortalati in canto,
Che giaccionfi in filenzio, e obblio perduti,
(Muti i lor fonti son, secche lor vene)
For wherefoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes,
Gay gilded fcenes and fhining prospects rife,
Poetic fields incompass me around,
And ftill I feem to tread on claffic ground;
For here the Mufe fo oft her harp has ftrung,
That not a mountain rears its head unfung,
Renown'd in verfe each fhady thicket grows,
And ev'ry ftream in heav'nly numbers flows.
How am I pleas'd to fearch the hills and woods
For rifing springs and celebrated floods!
To view the Nar, tumultuous in his course,
And trace the fmooth Clitumnus to his fource,
To fee the Mincio draw his watry store,
Through the long windings of a fruitful shore,
And hoary Albula's infected tide
O'er the warm bed of fmoking fulphur glide.
Fir'd with a thousand raptures I furvey
Eridanus through flow'ry meadows stray,
The king of floods! that rolling o'er the plains
The tow'ring Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly fwoln with a whole winter's fnows,
Distributes wealth and plenty where he flows.
Sometimes, mifguided by the tuneful throng,
I look for ftreams immortaliz'd in fong,
That loft in filence and oblivion lie,
(Dumb are their fountains and their channels dry).
Pur, per fenno di Mufe, ei fon perenni,
Lor mormorio perenne in ter fi carmi.
Talora al gentil Tebro io mi ritiro,
Le voto ripe del gran fiume ammiro,
Che privo di poter fuo corfo tragge
D'una grette urna, e fterile forgente;
Pur fuona ei nelle bocche de poeti,
Sicche 'l miro al Danubio, e al Nil far fcorno;
Così Mufa immortale in alto il leva.
Tal' era il Boin povero, ignobil fiume,
Che nelle Hiberne valli ofcuro errava,
E inoffervato in fuoi giri fcherzava.
Quando per voftri verfi, e per la Spada
Di Nafsò rinomato, l'onde fue
Levate in alto per mondo rifuonano
Ovunque dello eroe le divin' opre,
E ove andrà fama d' immortal verfo.
Oh l'eftatico mio petto infpirasse
Mufa con un furor fimile al voftro!
Infinite bellezze avria 'l mio verso,
Cederia di Virgilio a quel l' Italia.
Mira quali auree felve attorno ridonmi,
Che della tempeftofa di Britannia
Ifola si ne fchivano la cofta,
O trapiantate, e con penfier guardate
Maledicon la fredda Regione,
E nell' aria del Norte illanguidifcono,
Calor dolor il montante umor ne lievita
A nobil gufti, e pin efaltati odori.
Yet run for ever by the Mufe's skill,
And in the smooth description murmur still.
Sometimes to gentle Tiber I retire,
And the fam'd river's empty fhores admire,
That deftitute of ftrength derives its courfe
From thrifty urns and an unfruitful fource;
Yet fung fo often in poetic lays,
With fcorn the Danube and the Nile furveys;
So high the deathless Muse exalts her theme!
Such was the Boyn, a poor inglorious ftream,
That in Hibernian vales obfcurely stray'd,
And unobserv'd in wild Meanders play'd;
"Till by your lines and Naffau's fword renown'd;
Its rifing billows through the world refound,
Where'er the Hero's godlike acts can pierce,
Or where the fame of an immortal verfe.
Oh cou'd the Mufe my ravish'd breast inspire With warmth like yours, and raise an equal fire, Unnumber'd beauties in my verse shou'd shine, And Virgil's Italy fhou'd yield to mine!
See how the golden groves around me smile, That fhun the coaft of Britain's ftormy ifle, Or when tranfplanted and preferv'd with care, Curfe the cold clime, and ftarve in northern air. Here kindly warmth their mounting juice ferments To nobler tastes, and more exalted scents :
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