If 'tis possible for any, the finest Turn, that can be given it, to prevent the Affectation, I think the Ingenious Mr. ROW has done it, in his excellent Tragedy, call'd JANE SHORE.
Give me your Drops, Ye soft-descending Rains,
Give me your Streams, Ye never-ceasing Springs, &c.
But the very best Turn, methinks, that can possibly be given to this
Thought, Mr. PHILIPS, in his Pastorals, has hit upon.
Teach me to grieve, with bleating Moan, my Sheep,
Teach me, thou ever-flowing Stream, to weep;
Teach me, ye faint, ye hollow Winds, to sigh,
And let my Sorrows teach me how to dye.
The Thought likewise of the Heavens and the Works of Nature wailing along with the Swain, is what Pastoral-Writers all aim at. I need not quote different Authors, for the different Turns that are given to this Thought; I remember Mr. CONGREVE has it in four several Places. The best express'd, I think, is this.
The Rocks can Melt, and Air in Mists can mourn, And Floods can weep, and winds to Sighs can turn, &c.
It seem's to be turn'd the best next in these Lines.
And now the Winds, which had so long been still,
Began the swelling Air, with Sighs to fill, &c.
The Affectation of the Thought show's it self rather more, I think, in the following Lines.
And see, the Heav'ns to weep in Dew prepare.
And heavy Mists obscure the burd'ned Air
On ev'ry Tree the Blossoms turn to Tears,
And every Bough a weeping Moisture bears.