SPRING: THE FIRST PASTORAL, OR Damon. TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBULL.* FIRST in these fields I try the silvan strains, You, that too wise for pride, too good for power, Enjoy the glory to be great no more, And, carrying with you all the world can boast, O let my muse her slender reed inspire, Soon as the flocks shook off the nightly dews, DAPHNIS. Hear how the birds, on every blooming spray, With joyous music wake the dawning day! Why sit we mute, when early linnets sing, When warbling Philomel salutes the spring? Why sit we sad, when Phosphort shines so clear, And lavish nature paints the purple year? *He was born in Windsor Forest. †The planet Venus. STREPHON. Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain; Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow, Here western winds on breathing roses blow. I'll stake yon lamb, that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing shade surveys. DAPHNIS. And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, And what is that, which binds the radiant sky, DAMON. Then sing by turns, by turns the Muses sing; Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring, Now leaves the trees, and flowers adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall every note rebound. STREPHON. 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. DAPHNIS. O love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes: No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart. STREPHON. Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, DAPHNIS. 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! STREPHON. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; The Thames' bright shores the brightest beauties yield, Feed here my lambs, I'll seek no distant field. DAPHNIS. Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves; If Windsor-shades delight the matchless maid, STREPHON. All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers, Hush'd are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers; If Delia smile, the flowers begin to spring, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing. DAPHNIS. 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, DAPHNIS. Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; Even spring displeases, when she shines not here But blest with her, 'tis spring throughout the year. STREPHON. Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears, A wondrous tree* that sacred monarchs bears; Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes. DAPHNIS. Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields The thistlet springs, to which the lily yields: And then a nobler prize I will resign; For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine. DAMON. Cease to contend, for, Daphnis, I decree, ; The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee: * Royal Oak. † Of Scotland. Of France B SUMMER: THE SECOND PASTORAL, OR Alexis. TO DR GARTH, AUTHOR OF "THE DISPENSARY." A SHEPHERD's boy (he seeks no better name) Accept, O GARTH! the Muse's early lays, Where stray ye, Muses, in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pines in hopeless love? In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides, Or else where Cam his winding vales divides? As in the crystal spring I view my face, Fresh-rising blushes paint the watery glass; But since those graces please thy eyes no more, I shun the fountains which I sought before. |