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I'll stake yon lamb that near the fountain plays,
Daph. And I this bowl where wanton ivy twines,
sing; Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring ; Now leaves the trees, and flowers adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall every note rebound.
Streph. Inspire me, Phoebus! in my Delia's praise, With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays ; A milk-white bull shall at your altars stand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand! Daph. O Love! for Sylvia let me gain
the prize, And make my tongue victorious as lier eyes ; No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart.
Štreph. Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found.
Daph. The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green ; She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen; While a kind glance at her pursuer flies, How much at variance are her feet and eyes!
Strepi. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Blest Thames':: shores the brightest beauties yield, Feed here, my lambs, I'll seek no distant field.
Daph. Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves; Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves; If Windsor shades delight the matchless maid, Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windsor-shade. Streph. All nature mouros, the skies relent in
show'rs, Hush'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping
flow'rs; If Delia smile the flow'rs begin to spring, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing.
Daph. All nature laughs, the groves are fresh
and fair, The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air; If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, And vanquish’d nature seems to charm no more.
Streph. In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love, At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove, But Delia always; absent from her sight, Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.
Daph. Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; Ev'n spring displeases, when she shines not here; But bless'd with her, 'tis spring throughout the year. Streph. Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil ap
Dam. Cease to contend: for, Daphnis. I decree
well! Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs, A soft retreat from sudden vernal show'rs; The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd, While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around: For see! the gathering flocks to shelter tend, And from the Pleiads fruitful showers descend.
To Dr. Garth. SHEPHERD's boy (he seeks no better name) Led forth his flocks along the silver Thame, Where dancing sun-beans on the waters play'd, And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring shade. Soft as he mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow, The flocks around a dumb compassion show, The Naiads wept in every watery bow'r, And Jove consented in a silent show'r.
Accept, O Garth ! the muse's early lays, That adds this wreath of ivy to the bays ; Hear what from love, unpractis'd hearts endure, From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure.
Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams ; Defence from Phoebus,' not from Cupid's beams, To you I mourn; nut to the deaf I sing, The woods shall answer, and their echo ring. The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay, Why art thou prouder and more hard than thiey ? The bleating sheep with my complaints agree, They parch'd with heat, and I enflam'd by thee The sultry Sirus burns the thirsty plains, While in thy heart eternal winter reigns.
Where stray ye, Muses ! in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pines in hopeless love. In those fair fields where sacred lsis glides, Or else where Cam his winding vales divides ! As in thy crystal spring I view my face. Fresh rising blushes paint the watery glass ; But since those graces please thy eyes no more, Ishun the fountains which I sought before, Once I was skill'd in every herb that grew, And every plant that drinks the morning dew, Ah, wretched shepherd, what avails thy art, To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart! Let other swains attend the rural care, Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces sheer;
But nigh yon mountain let me tune my lays,
And yet my numbers please the rural throng,
See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! Descending gods have found Elysium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd, And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade. Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours, When swains from shearing seek their nightly
bow'rs; When weary reapers quit the sultry field, And crown' with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield, This harmless grove no lurking viper hides, But in my breast the serpent Love abides. Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew, But your
Alexis knows no swcets but you. O deign to visit our forsaken seats, The mossy fountains, and the green retreats! Where'er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade, Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade : Where'er you tread, the blushing flowers shall rise, And all things flourish where you turn your eyes, O how I long with you to pass my days, Invoke the Muses, and resound your praise !
Your praise the birds shall chant in every grove,
But see, the shepherds shun the noon-day heats
PASTORAL III.-HYLAS AND ÆGON
To Mr. Wycherley. BENEATH the shade a spreading beech displays, Hylas and Ægon süng their rural lays; This mourn'd a faithless, that an absent love, And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the grove. Ye Mantuan nymphs, your sacred succour bring, Hylas and Ægon's rural lays I sing.
Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit inspire. The art of Terence, and Menander's fire; Whose sense instructs us, and whose humour
charms, Whose judgment sways us, and whose spirit
warms; O, skill'd in nature ! see the hearts of swains, Their artless passions, and their tender pains.
Now setting Phæbus slione serenely bright, And fleecy clouds were sireak'd with purple light; When tuneful Hylas, withi melodious moan, 'Paught rocks to weep, and made the mountains groan..