STREPHON.

In fpring the fields, in autumn hills I love, At morn the plains, at noon the fhady grove, But Delia always; abfent from her fight, Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.

DAPHNIS.

Sylvia 's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; E'en fpring difpleafes when the fhines not here; But, bleft with her, 'tis fpring throughout the year.

If Delia fmile, the flow'rs begin to spring, The fkies to brighten, and the birds to fing.

STREPHON.

Say, Daphnis, fay, in what glad foil appears A wondrous Tree that facred Monarchs bears : Tell me but this, and I'll difclaim the prize, And give the conqueft to thy Sylvia's eyes.

DAPHN15.

Nay, tell me firft, in what more happy fields The Thiftle fprings, to which the Lily yields: And then a nobler prize I will refign; For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, fhall be thine.

DAMON.

Ceafe to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee: Bleft Swains, whofe Nymphs in every grace excel; Bleft Nymphs, whofe Swains thofe graces fing fo

well!

Now rife, and hafte to yonder woodbine bow'rs,
A foft retreat from fudden vernal show'rs;
The turf with rural dainties fhall be crown'd,
While op'ning blooms diffufe their fweets around.
For, fee! the gath'ring flocks to fhelter tend,
And from the Pleiads fruitful fhow'rs defcend.

PASTORAL II. SUMMER. Addreed to Dr. GARTH.

A Shepherd's bov (he feeks no better name)

Led forth his flocks along the filver Thame, Where dancing fun-beams on the waters play'd, And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring fhade. Soft as he mourn'd, the ftrcans forgot to flow, The flocks around a dumb compaffion fhow, The Naiads wept in ev'ry wat ry bow'r, And Jove confented in a filent show`r.

Accept, O Garth, the Mufe's carly lays, That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; Hear what from Love unpractis'd hearts endure, From Love, the fole difcafe thou canst not cure.

Ye fhady beeches, and ye cooling ftreams, Defence from Phabus', not from Cupid's beams, To you I mourn, nor to the deaf I fing; The woods fhall anfwer, and their echo ring. The hills and rocks attend my doleful layWhy art thou prouder and more hard than they? The bleating theep with my complaints agree; They parch'd with heat, and I inflam'd by thee. The fultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains, While in thy heart eternal winter reigns.

Where ftray ye, Mufes, in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pings in hopeless love? In thofe fair fields where facred Ifis glides, Or clfe where Cam his winding vales divides? As

As in the cryftal fpring I view my face,
Fresh rifing blushes paint the wat'ry glass;
But fince thofe graces pleafe thy eyes no more,
I thun the fountains which I fought before.
Once I was skill'd in ev'ry herb that grew,
And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew;
Ah, wretched thepherd, what avails thy art,
To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart!

Let other fwains attend the rural care, Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces fhear : But nigh yon mountain let me tune my lays, Embrace my Love, and bind my brows with bays. That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath Infpir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death: He faid- Alexis, take this pipe, the fame That taught the groves my Rofalinda's name: But now the reeds fhall hang on yonder tree, For ever filent, fince defpis'd by thee. Oh were I made by fome transforming pow'r The captive bird that sings within thy bow`r! Then might my voice thy lift'ning ears employ, And I thofe kiffes he receives enjoy.

Come, lovely nymph, and blefs the filent hours,
When fwains from fheering feek their nightly
bow'rs;
When weary reapers quit the fultry field,
And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield.
This harmless grove no lurking viper hides,
But in my breaft the ferpent Love abides.
Here bees from bloffoms fip the rofy dew,
But your Alexis knows no fweets but you.
Oh deign to vifit our forfaken feats,
The mofly fountains, and the green retreats!
Where'er you walk, cool gales fhall fan the glade,
Trees, where you fit, fhall crowd into a fhade:
Where'er you tread, the blushing flow'rs fhall
rife,

And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
Oh how I long with you to pass my days,
Invoke the Mufes, and refound your praise!
Your praise the birds shall chant in ev'ry grove,
And winds fhall waft it to the pow'rs above.
But would you fing, and rival Orpheus' ftrain,
The wond'ring forefts foon fhould dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow'rful call,
And headlong ftreams hang lift'ning in their fall!

But fee, the fhepherds fhun the noon-day heat,
The lowing herds to murm'ring brooks retreat;
To clofer fades the panting flocks remove;
Ye gods 1. and is there no relief for Love?

Addeffed to Mr. Wycherley.

BENEATH the fhade a spreading beech dif Hylas and Egon fung their rural lays: [plays This mourn'd a faithlefs, that an abfent Love; And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the grove. Ye Mantuan nymphs, your facred fuccour bring; Hylas and Egon's rural lays I fing.

Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit inThe art of Terence, and Menander's fire; [fpire, Whofe fenfe inftructs us, and whofe humour charms, [warms! Whofe judgment fways us, and whofe fpirit Ch, skill'd in nature! fee the hearts of fwains, Their artless paffions, and their tender pains.

Now fetting Phoebus fhone ferenely bright, And fleecy clouds were freak'd with purple light; When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan Taught rocks to weep, and made the mountains

groan.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! To Delia's ear the tender notes convey. As fome fad Turtle his loft love deplores, And with deep murmurs fills the founding fhores; Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I mourn, Alike unheard, unpitied, and forlorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along! For her, the feather'd choirs neglect their fong; For her, the limes their pleafing fhades deny For her, the lilies hang their heads and die. Ye flow'rs that droop, forfaken by the spring; Ye birds that, left by fummer, ceafe to fing; Ye trees that fade when autumn heats remove, Say, is not abfence death to those who love?

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! Curs'd be the fields that caufe my "Delia's stay;" Fade ev'ry bloffom, wither ev'ry tree, Die ev'ry flow'r, and perifh all but the! What have I faid where'er my Delia flies Let Spring attend, and fudden flow'rs arise; Let op'ning rofes knotted oaks adorn,. And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along! The birds fhall cease to tune their cv'ning fong. The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, And ftreams to murmur ere I ceafe to love. Not bubbling fountains to the thirsty fwain, Not balmy fleep to lab'rers faint with pain, Not show'rs to larks, or sunshine to the bee, Are half fo charming as thy fight to me.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay? Thro' rocks and caves the name of Delia founds: Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds. Ye pow'rs, what pleafing phrenfy fooths my Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind? [mind! She comes, my Delia comes! Now cease, my lay; And ceafe, ye gales, to bear my fighs away!

And mounts exulting on triumphant wings:
Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Ah! what avail his gloffy, varying dyes,
His purple creft and fcarlet-circled eyes,
The vivid green his fhining plumes unfold,
His painted wings, and breaft that flames with
gold!

Whofe care, like hers, protects the fylvan reign, The earth's fair light, and Emprefs of the main.

Nor yet, when moist Arcturus clouds the fky, The woods and fields their pleafing toils deny. To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair, And trace the mazes of the circling hare (Beafts, urg'd by us, their fellow beafts purfue, And learn of man each other to undo): With flaught 'ring guns th'unwearied fowler roves, When froits have whiten'd all the naked groves; Where doves in flocks the leaflefs trees o'erfhade, And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'ry glade. He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye; Straight a fhort thunder breaks the frozen fky: Oft, as in airy rings they fkim the heath, The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death; Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare, They fall, and leave their little lives in air.

In genial fpring, beneath the quiv'ring thade, Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead, The patient fifher takes his filent stand, Intent, his angle trembling in his hand : With looks unmov'd he hopes the icaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork and bending recd. Our plenteous ftreams a various race fupply: The bright-eyed perch, with fins of Tyrian dye; The filver eel, in fhining volumes roll'd; The yellow carp, in scales bedropt with gold; Swift trouts, diverfified with crimson ftains; And pikes, the tyrants of the watry plains.

Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car; The youth ruh eager to the fylvan war, Swarm o'er the lawns, the foreft walks furround, Roufe the fleet hart, and cheer the opening hound. The impatient courfer pants in every vein, And pawing feems to beat the diftant plain : Hills, vales, and floods appear already cross'd, And ere he starts a thousand fteps are loft. See the bold youth strain up the threat'ning fteep, Ruth thro' the thickets, down the valley fweep, Hang o'er their courfers' heads with eager fpeed, And earth rolls back beneath the flying ftced. Let old Arcadia boast her ample plain, Th' immortal huntrefs, and her virgin-train ; Nor envy, Windfor! fince thy fhades have scen As bright a Goddefs, and as chaste a Queen:

Here too, 'tis fung, of old Diana ftray'd, And Cynthus' top forfook for Windfor-fhade; Here was the feen o'er airy waftes to rove, Seck the clear fpring, or haunt the pathlefs grove; Here arm'd with filver bows, in carly dawn, Her buskin'd Virgins trac'd the dewy lawn.

Above the reft a rural nymph was fam’3, Thy offspring, Thames! the fair Lodona nam'd (Lodena's fate, in long oblivion caft, The Mufe fhall fing, and what the fings fhall last): Scarce could the Goddefs from her nymph be known,

But by the crefcent, and the golden zone.
She fcorn'd the praife of beauty, and the care;
A belt her waift, a fillet binds her hair;
A pointed quiver on her fhoulder founds,
And with her dart the flying deer the wounds.
It chanc'd, as, eager of the chace, the maid
Beyond the foreft's verdant limits stray'd,
Pan faw and lov'd; and, burning with defire,
Pursued her flight; her flight increas'd his fire..
Not half fo fwift the trembling doves can fly,
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid sky;
Not half fo fwiftly the fierce cagle moves,
When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling
doves;

As from the God fhe flew with furious pace,
Or as the God more furious urg'd the chace.
Now fainting, finking, pale, the nymph appears;
Now clofe behind his founding fteps the hears;
And now his thadow reach'd her as the run,
fis fhadow lengthen'd by the fetting fun;
And now his thorter breath, with fuitry air,
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on father Thames the calls for aid,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathlefs, thus the pray'd, nor pray'd in

vain

"Ah Cynthia! ah—tho' banifli'd from thy train, "Let me, O let me, to the fhades repair,

My native thades-there weep, and murmur She faid, and melting as in tears the lay, [there." In a foft filver ftream diffolv'd away. The filver ftream her virgin coldness keeps, For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps; Still bears the name the haplefs virgin bore, And bathes the foreft where the rang'd before. In her chafte current oft the Goddefs laves, And with celeftial tears auginents the waves. Oft in her glafs the mufing thepherd spies The headlong mountains and the downward skies, The wat`ry landskip of the pendent woods, And abfent trees that tremble in the floods; In the clear azure gleam the flocks are feen, And floating forefts paint the waves with green; Thro' the fair fcene roll flow the ling'ring ftreams, Then foaming pour along, and rush into the

Thames.

Thou, too, great father of the British floods! With joyful pride furvey ft our lofty woods; · Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours rear, And future pavics on thy fhores appear :

Not