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T

To the Memory of MRS. TEMPEST.

LYCIDAS.

HYRSIS, the mufic of that murmuring spring

Is not fo mournful as the strains you fing.
Nor rivers winding through the vales below,
So fweetly warble, or so smoothly flow.
Now fleeping flocks on their foft fleeces lie,
The moon, ferene in glory, mounts the sky,
While filent birds forget their tuneful lays,
O fing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praife!

THYRSIS.

Behold the groves that shine with filver frost,
Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure lost.
Here fhall I try the sweet Alexis' strain,
That call'd the liftening Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers, as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving fong.

LYCIDAS.

So may kind rains their vital moisture yield,

And fwell the future harvest of the field.

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Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
And faid, "Ye thepherds, fing around my grave!”
Sing, while befide the fhaded tomb I mourn,
And with fresh bays her rural shrine adorn.

THYRSIS.

Ye gentle Mufes, leave your crystal spring,
Let Nymphs and Sylvans cyprefs garlands bring;
Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide,
And break your bows as when Adonis dy'd;

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And with your golden darts, now useless grown, 25 Inscribe a verfe on this relenting stone:

"Let nature change, let heaven and earth deplore, "Fair Daphne's dead, and Love is now no more!" 'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay: See gloomy clouds obfcure the chearful day!! Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear, Their faded honours fcatter'd on her bier. See where, on earth, the flowery glories lie, With her they flourish'd, and with her they die. Ah, what avail the beauties nature wore? Fair Daphne's dead, and Beauty is no more! For her the flocks refufe their verdant food,

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The thirsty heifers than the gliding flood,
The filver fwans her haplefs fate bemoan,

In notes more fad than when they fing their own; 40 In hollow caves fweet Echo filent lies,

Silent, or only to her name replies;

VARIATION.

Ver. 29. Originally thus in the MS.

Her

'Tis done, and nature's chang'd fince you are gone; Behold the clouds have "put their mourning on.

Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore,
Now Daphne's dead, and Pleasure is no more!

No grateful dews descend from evening skies,
Nor morning odours from the flowers arise;
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield.
The balmy Zephyrs, filent fince her death,
Lament the ceafing of a fweeter breath;
Th' industrious bees neglect their golden ftore!
Fair Daphne's dead, and Sweetness is no more!

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne fings,
Shall, listening in mid air, fufpend their wings;

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No more the birds shall imitate her lays,

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Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays:

No more the streams their murmurs fhall forbear,
A fweeter mufic than their own to hear;

But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal fhore,
Fair Daphne's dead, and Music is no more!
Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze,
And told in fighs to all the trembling trees;
The trembling trees, in every plain and wood,
Her fate remurmur to the filver flood:

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The filver flood, fo lately calm, appears

Swell'd with new paffion, and o'erflows with tears;
The winds and trees and floods her death deplore,
Daphne, our grief! our glory now no more!

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But fee! where Daphne wondering mounts on high Above the clouds, above the ftarry sky! Eternal beauties grace the shining scene, Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green!

70

There

re

There while you reft in Amaranthine bowers,
Or from those meads select unfading flowers,
Behold us kindly, who your name implore,
Daphne, our Goddess, and our grief no more!

LYCIDAS.

75

How all things liften, while thy Mufe complains!
Such filence waits on Philomela's ftrains,
In fome ftill evening, when the whispering breeze
Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.
To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb fhall bløed,
If teeming ewes increase my fleecy breed.
While plants their fhade, or flowers their odours give,
Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise, shall live!

THYRSIS.

But fee, Orion fheds unwholesome dews;
Arife, the pines a noxious fhade diffuse;
Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay,
Time conquers all, and we must Time obey.
Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, ftreams, and groves,
Adieu, ye fhepherds' rural lays and loves;
Adieu, my flocks; farewell, ye fylvan crew;
Daphne, farewell; and all the world adieu!

VARIATION.

Ver. 83. Originally thus in the MS.

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85

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MES

While vapours rife, and driving fnows defcend,
Thy honour, name, and praise, shall never end.

NOTE.

Ver. 89, &c.] These four laft lines allude to the feveral fubjects of the four Paftorals, and to the several fcenes of them particularized before in each.

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