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"With baneful hemlock, deadly nightshade, drefs'd, "Such chaplets as may witnefs thine unreft,

"If aught can witness: O, ye fhepherds tell,
"When I am dead, no fhepherd lov'd fo well!"
Awake, my pipe; in every note express
Fair Stella's death, and Colinet's diftrefs.

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"Alack, my fheep! and thou, dear spotless lamb, "By Stella nurs'd, who wean'd the from the dam, "What heed give I to aught but to my grief, "My whole employment, and my whole relief! 128 "Stray where ye list, some happier master try : "Yet once, my flock, was none so bless'd as I.” Awake, my pipe; in every note express

Fair Stella's death, and Colinet's diftrefs.

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"My pipe, whofe foothing found could passion move, "And first taught Stella's virgin-heart to love, "Shall filent hang upon this blasted oak,

"Whence owls their dirges fing, and ravens croak: 136 "Nor lark, nor linnet, shall my day delight,

"Nor nightingale fufpend my moan by night: "The night and day shall undistinguish'd be, "Alike to Stella, and alike to me.'

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No more, my pipe; here ceafe we to express Fair Stella's death, and Colinet's diftrefs.

Thus, forrowing, did the gentle fhepherd fing,

And urge the valley with his wail to ring.
And now that sheep-hook for my fong I crave.

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ARGOL.

ARGOL.

Not this, but one more coftly, fhalt thou have, Of feafon'd elm, where ftuds of brafs appear,

To speak the giver's name, the month, and year; 148
The hook of polish'd steel, the handle torn'd,
And richly by the carver's fkill adorn'd.

O, Colinet, how sweet thy grief to hear!
How does thy verfe fubdue the listening ear!
Soft falling as the ftill, refreshing dew,
To flake the drought, and herbage to renew :
Not half fo fweet the midnight winds, which move
In drowsy murmurs o'er the waving grove,

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Nor valley brook that, hid by alders, speeds

O'er pebbles warbling, and through whispering reeds,

Nor dropping waters, which from rocks diftil,

And welly-grots with tinkling echoes fill.

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Thrice happy Colinet, who can relieve

Heart-anguish fore, and make it fweet to grieve!

And next to thee fhall Myco bear the bell,

Who can repeat thy peerless fong fo well:

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But fee! the hills increasing fhadows caft;

The fun, I ween, is leaving us in hafte:

His weakly rays faint glimmer through the wood,
And bluey mifts arife from yonder flood.

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MY CO.

Bid then our dogs to gather in the fheep.

Good fhepherds, with their flock, betimes should fleep. Who late lies down, thou know'ft, as late will rife,

And, fluggard-like, to noun-day fnoring lies,

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While in the fold his injur'd ewes complain,
And after dewy pastures bleat in vain,

THE FIFTH PASTORAL.

CUDDY.

IN rural strains we firft our mufic try,

And bashful into woods and thickets fly, Miftrufting then our skill; yet if through time Our voice, improving, gain a pitch fublime, Thy growing virtues, Sackville, fhall engage My riper verfe, and more afpiring age.

The fun, now mounted to the noon of day, Began to fhoot direct his burning ray;

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When, with the flocks, their feeders fought the fhade
A venerable oak wide-spreading made:
What should they do to pass the loitering time?
As fancy led, each form'd his tale in rhyme:
And fome the joys, and fome the pains, of love,
And fome to fet out ftrange adventures, ftrove;
The trade of wizards fome, and Merlin's skill,
And whence, to charms, fuch empire o'er the will.
Then Cuddy laft (who Cuddy can excel

In neat device?) his tale began to tell.

"When fhepherds flourish'd in Eliza's reign, There liv'd in high repute a jolly fwain,

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"Young Colin Clout; who well could pipe and fing, And by his notes invite the lagging fpring. He, as his custom was, at leisure laid '

In woodland bower, without a rival play'd,

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"Soliciting

Soliciting his pipe to warble clear, Enchantment sweet as ever wont to hear Belated wayfarers, from wake or fair "Detain❜d by music, hovering on in air: "Drawn by the magic of th' inticing found, *What troops of mute admirers flock'd around! The fteerlings left their food; and creatures, wild By Nature form'd, infenfibly grew mild.

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He makes the gathering birds about him throng, And loads the neighbouring branches with his fong: “There, with the crowd, a nightingale of fame, "Jealous, and fond of praise, to listen came : "She turned her ear, and pause by pause, with pride, Like echo to the fhepherd's pipe reply'd. "The shepherd heard with wonder, and again, "To try her more, renewid his various ftrain:

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To all the various ftrain the plies her throat, And adds peculiar grace to every note. "If Colin, in complaining accent grieve, "Or brisker motion to his measure give,

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"If gentle founds he modulate, or strong, She, not a little vain, repeats the fong:

"But fo repeats, that Colin half-despis'd
"His pipe and kill, around the country priz'd :
"And sweetest fongfter of the winged kind,
"What thanks, faid he, what praises, fhall I find
"To equal thy melodious voice? In thee
"The rudeness of my rural fife I fee;

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"From thee I learn no more to vaunt my skill: Aloft in air fhe fate, provoking still

"The

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"The vanquish'd fwain. Provok'd, at last, he strove > "To fhow the little minstrel of the grove "His utmost powers, determin'd once to try "How art, exerting, might with nature vy; "For vy could none with either in their part, "With her in Nature, nor with him in Art. "He draws-in breath, his rifing breath to fill: Throughout the wood his pipe is heard to shrill. "From note to note, in hafte, his fingers fly;

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Still more and more the numbers multiply: "And now they trill, and now they fall and rise, "And fwift and flow they change with sweet surprise. "Attentive fhe doth scarce the founds retain; "But to herself first cons the puzzling strain, "And tracing, heedful, note by note repays

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The fhepherd in his own harmonious lays, "Through every changing cadence runs at length, "And adds in fweetness what he wants in ftrength. 72 "Then Colin threw his fife disgrac'd aside, "While fhe loud triumph fings, proclaiming wide "Her mighty conqueft, and within her throat "Twirls many a wild unimitable note,

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"To foil her rival. What could Colin more?

"A little harp of maple-ware he bore:
"The little harp was old, but newly strung,

"Which, ufual, he across his shoulders hung.

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"Now take, delightful bird, my laft farewel,
"He faid, and learn from hence thou doft excel P
"No trivial artist: and anon he wound
"The murmuring ftrings, and order'd every found: 84

"Then

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