F

ERVID on the glitt'ring flood,

Now the noontide radiance glows; Drooping o'er its infant bud,

Not a dew-drop's left the rose.

XI.

By the brook the shepherd dines,

From the fierce meridian heat Shelter'd by the branching pines,

Pendant o'er his graffy feat.

XII.

Now the lock forsakes the glade,

Where uncheck'd the sun-beams fall; Sure to find a pleasing shade

By the ivy'd abbey wall.

XIII.

Echo in her airy round,

O'er the river, rock, and hill, Cannot catch a fingle sound,

Save the clack of yonder mill.

XIV. Cattle

'ER the heath the heifer strays

Free ;-(the-furrow'd tak is done) Now the village windows blaze,

Burnish'd by the setting sun.

XX.

Now he sets behind the hill,

Sinking from a golden sky ; Can the pencil's minic skill

Copy the refulgent dye?'

XXI.

Trudging as the plowmen go,

(To the smoaking hamlet bound) Giant-like their shadows grow,

Lengthend o’er the level ground.

XXII.

Where the rising forest sprends,

Shelter for the lordly dome; To their high-built airy beds,

See the rooks returning home:

XXIII. As

CONT

E N T:

A PASTORA L.

BY THE SAME.

I.

'ER moorlands and mountains, rude, barren, and bare,

As wilder'd and weary'd I roam,

A gentle young shepherdeis fees my despair,

And leads me-o'er lawns-to her home,

Yellow fheafs from rich Ceres her cottage had crown'd, '
Green rushes were ftrew'd on her floor,

Her cafement sweet woodbines crept wantonly round,
And deck'd the fod feats at her door.

II,

We fat ourselves down to a cooling repaft:
Fresh fruits; and fhe cull'd me the beft:

3

While thrown from my guard by fome glances fhe caft, Love flily stole into my breast.

I told my foft wishes; the fweetly reply'd
Ye virgins, her voice was divine!)

I've rich ones rejected, and great ones deny'd,
But take me, fond fhepherd-I'm thine.

3

III. Her