Quos et aquae subeunt et auræ.[47]
Dos’t hear? or sporting in my brain,
What wildly-sweet deliriums reign!
Lo! mid Elysium’s balmy groves,
Each happy shade transported roves!
I see the living scene display’d,
Where rills and breathing gales sigh murmuring thro’ the shade.
On some subjects he is led imperceptibly into a soft melancholy, which peculiar elegance of expression renders extremely agreeable in the end of this poem. There is a fine stroke of this kind in his Ode to Septimus, with whom he was going to fight against the Cantabrians. He figures out a poetical recess for his old age, and then says,
Ille te mecum locus, et beatæ
Postulant arces, ibi tu calentem