ote, and read soft mischief in her eye.

Lob. On two near elms, the slacken'd cord I hung; Now high, now low, my Blouzalinda fwung: With the rude wind her rumpled garment rote, And show'd her taper leg and scarlet hose.

Cud. Across the fallen oak the plank I laid, And myself pois'd against the tottering maid; High leapt the plank, and down Buxoma fell; I spy'd—but faithful sweethearts never tell.

Lob. This riddle, Cuddy, if thou canst, explain, This wily riddle puzzles ev'ry twain: What flow'r is that which bears the virgin's name?

Cud. Answer, thou carle, and judge this riddle right, I'll frankly own thee for a cunning wight: What flow'r is that which royal honour craves?

Cud. Forbear, contending louts, give o'er your strains; An oaken staff each merits for his pains. But see the sun-beams bright to labour warn, And gild the thatch of Goodman Hodge's barn. Your herds for want of water stand a-dry; They're weary of your songs—and so am I.

We have given the rules usually laid down for pastoral writing, and exhibited some examples which were written on this plan; but we have to observe, that this poem may sometimes partake of more dignity, and aspire even to the sublime, without deviating from nature and right reason. The sublime which arises from tumults, wars, and what are too often falsely called great actions, the pastoral abhors; but that which is blended with the tender and pathetic may be introduced with propriety and elegance. And indeed if we consider that the first shepherds were many of them princes, (for that Abraham, Moles, and David, were such, we have the testimony of the Scriptures), it will seem somewhat extraordinary that such pains should have been taken to exclude the sublime from pastoral writing; and we shall be inclined to admit Virgil's Pollio, the Song of Solomon, and Pope's Alcibiades, as pastorals, till better reasons are offered to the contrary than have yet appeared: for the true characteristic of pastoral, and what distinguishes it from other writings, is its sole confinement to rural affairs; and if this be observed, it can lose nothing of its nature by any elevation of sentiment or diction.