I understand there is a Paper on "The Farmer's Boy" in a Work lately publish'd by Dr. ANDERSON; and assuredly from its subject well entitled to attention, as well as from the abilities and public spirit of its Editor;—AGRICULTURAL RECREATIONS. Where indeed with more appropriate Honor could such a Poem be notic'd?
In the Critical Remarks I intended I find myself so much agreeing in sentiment with Dr. Drake that I shall attempt little more than merely to offer some few observations. One of these relates to the coincidences of thought and manner in the Farmer's Boy with other writings. These, as would previously be expected from what has been said, are extremely few indeed. And almost all that are particularly of moment in appreciating the poetical excellences of the Work are most truly coincidences, and cannot be otherwise consider'd.
For the first of these which I shall mention I am indebted to WILLIAM SMITH, Esq. of BURY, who had largely his share of Public Admiration, when he sustain'd for many years with great skill and judgment, and great natural advantages, almost every character of our Drama which had been eminently favor'd by either Muse; and who now enjoys retirement with honor and merited esteem.
He mention'd to me in conversation, and since by Letter, a passage very closely resembling one in the IDYLLIA of AUSONIUS. It is this in Spring.
Like the torn flower the fair assemblage fly.
Ah, fallen Rose! sad emblem of their doom;
Frail as thyself, they perish while they bloom! I.v. 388-40.
The passage to which Mr. Smith referr'd me is this. (It is not in my
Edition of Ausonius; but he sent me a Copy.)
"Conquerimur, Natura, brevis quod Gratia florum est;
Ostentara oculis illico dona rapis.
Quam longa una dies aetas tarn longa rosarum,
Ques pubescentes juncta senecta pressit."
ID. xiv.
I am favor'd with a Translation made by Mr. SMITH in his very early days.
And hope that as a brother Etonian he allows me to quote it.
Nature, we grieve that thou giv'st flowers so gay,
Then snatchest Gifts thou shew'st so swift away.
A Day's a Rose's Life.—How quickly meet,
Sweet Flower, thy Blossom and thy Winding sheet!