New milk, that, all the winter, never fails
And, all the summer, overflows the pails.
Amphion sung not sweeter to his herd,
When summon'd stones the Theban turrets
rear'd.
Nor am I so deform'd; for, late I stood
Upon the margin of the briny flood:
The winds were still: and, if the glass be true,
With Daphnis I may vie, though judg'd by you.
O leave the noisy town: O come and see
Our country cots, and live content with me!
To wound the flying deer, and from their cotes
With me to drive a-field the browsing goats;
To pipe and sing, and, our country strain,
To copy or perhaps contend with Pan.
Pan taught to join with wax unequal reeds;
Pan loves the shepherds, and their flocks he
feeds.
Nor scorn the pipe: Amyntas, to be taught,
With all his kisses would my skill have bought.
Of seven smooth joints, a mellow pipe I have,
Which, with his dying breath, Damætas gave,
And said, "this, Corydon, I leave to thee;
For only thou deserv'st it after me.'
His eyes Amyntas durst not upward lift;
Ah, Corydon! ah poor unhappy swain!
Alexis will thy homely gifts disdain :
Nor, should'st thou offer all thy little store,
Will rich Iolas yield, but offer more.
What have I done, to name that wealthy
So powerful are his presents, mine so mean!
The boar amidst my crystal streams I bring,
And southern winds to blast my flowery spring.
Ah cruel creature! whom dost thou despise?
The gods, to live in woods, have left the skies;
And godlike Paris, in the Idaan grove,
To Priam's wealth preferr'd Enone's love.
In cities which she built, let Pallas reign;
Tow'rs are for gods, but forests for the swain.
The greedy lioness the wolf pursues,
The wolf the kid, the wanton kid the browse;
Alexis, thou art chas'd by Corydon :
All follow sev'ral games, and each his own.
See, from afar the fields no longer smoke;
The sweating steers, unharness'd from the yoke
Bring, as in triumph, back the crooked plough;
The shadows lengthen as the sun goes low;
Cool breezes now the raging heats remove :
Ah, cruel heav'n! that made no cure for love!
For much he grudg'd the `praise, but more the I wish for balmy sleep, but wish in vain :
Besides, two kids, that in the valley stray'd,
I found by chance, and to my fold convey'd,
They drain two bagging udders ev'ry day;
And these shall be companions of thy play:
Both fleck'd with white, the true Arcadian
stain,
Which Thestylis had often begg'd in vain :
And she shall have them, if again she sues,
Since the giver and the gift refuse.
Come to my longing arms, my lovely care!
And take the presents which thy nymphs pre-
White lilies in full canisters they bring,
With all the glories of the purple spring.
The daughters of the flood have search'd the
mead
For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppy's head,
The short narcissus and fair daffodil,
Pansies to please the sight, and cassia sweet to
smell;
And set soft hyacinths with iron-blue,
To shade marsh marigolds of shining hue;
Some bound in order, others loosely strew'd,
To dress thy bow'r, and trim thy new abode.
Love has no bounds in pleasure, or in pain.
What frenzy, shepherd, has thy soul possess'd?
Thy vineyard lies half prun'd and half undress'd
Quench, Corydon, thy long unanswered fire!
Mind what the common wants of life require,
On willow twigs employ thy weaving care;
And find an easier love, though not so fair.
MENALCAS, DAMŒETAS, PALÆMON
Damætas and Manaclas, after some smart strokes of country railery, resolve to try who has the most skill at song; and accordingly make their neighhour Palæmon judge of their performances; who, after a full hearing of both parties,declares himself unfit for the decision of so weighty a controversy and leaves the victory undetermined.
Myself will search our planted grounds at home, Ho, swain! what shepherd owns those raggca
For downy peaches and the glossy plum:
And thrash the chestnuts in the neighb'ring
grove,
Such as my Amaryllis us'd to love.
The laurel and the myrtle sweets agree;
And both in nosegays shall be bound for thee.
Egon's they are: he gave them me to keep.
Unhappy sheep of an unhappy swain!
While he Neara courts, but courts in vain,
Both number twice a day the milky dams
And once she takes the tale of all the lambs.
But, since you will be mad, and since you may
Suspect my courage, if I should not lay,
The pawn I proffer shall be full as good:
Two bowls I have, well turn'd, of beechen wood:
Both by divine Alcimedon were made :
To neither of them yet the lip is laid.
The lids are ivy: grapes in clusters lurk
Beneath the carving of the curious work.
Two figures on the sides emboss'd appear-
Conon, and, what's his name, who made the
sphere,
And show'd the seasons of the sliding year,
Instructed in his trade the lab'ring swain,
And when to reap, and when to sow the grain?
And I have two, to match your pair, at home; The wood the same; from the same hand they
(The kimbo handles seem with bear's-foot carv'd)
And never yet to table have been serv'd; Where Orpheus on his lyre laments his love, With beasts encompass'd and a dancing
But these, nor all the proffers you can make, Are worth the heifer which I set to stake.
No more delays, vain boaster, but begin! I prophesy beforehand, I shall win: Palamon shall be judge how ill you rhyme. I'll teach you how to brag another time.
Rhymer, come on! and do the worst you can.
I fear not you, nor yet a better man.
With silence, neighbour, and attention, wait:
For 'tis a business of a high debate.
Sing then the shade affords a proper place; The trees are cloth'd with leaves, the fields with grass;
The blossoms blow; the birds on bushes sing;
And nature has accomplish'd all the spring.
The challenge to Damætas shall belong :
Menalcas shall sustain his under-song:
Each in his turn, your tuneful numbers bring:
By turns the tuneful Muses love to sing.
From the great father of the gods above
My Muse begins; for all is full of Jove;
To Jove the care of heav'n and earth belongs;
My flocks he blesses, and he loves my songs.
Me Phoebus loves; for he my Muse inspires; And, in her songs, the warmth he gave, requires. For him, the god of shepherds and their sheep, My blushing hyacinths and my bays I keep.
after the taking of Saloær, à city in Dalmatia. Many of the verses are translated from one of the Sibyls, who prophesied of our Saviour's birth.
SICILIAN Muse, begin a loftier strain.
Another Helen other wars create,
And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate
But, when to ripen'd manhood he sha. grow,
The greedy sailor shall the seas forego:
Tho' lowly shrubs, and trees that shade the No keel shall cut the waves for foreign ware
The last great age, foretold by sacred rhymes,
Renews its finish'd course: Saturnian times
Roll round again; and mighty years, begun
From their first orb in radiant circles run.
The base degen'rate iron offspring ends;
A golden progeny from heaven descends.
O chaste Lucina! speed the mother's pains;
And haste the glorious birth! thy own Apollo
reigns!
The lovely boy, with his auspicious face,
Shall Pollio's consulship and triumph grace:
Majestic months set out (with him) to their ap-
pointed race.
The father banish'd virtue shall restore;
And crimes shall threat the guilty world no
The son shall lead the life of gods, and be
By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes
The jarring nations he in peace shall bind,
And with paternal virtues rule mankind.
Unbidden earth shail wreathing ivy bring,
And fragrant herbs (the promises of spring,)
As her first off'rings to her infant king.
The goats with strutting dugs shall homeward
speed,
And lowing herds secure from lions feed.
His cradle shall with rising flow'rs be crown'd:
The serpent's brood shall die: the sacred
ground
Shall weeds and pois'nous plants refuse to bear;
Each common bush shall Syrian roses wear.
But when heroic verse his youth shall raise,
And form it to hereditary praise,
Unlabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn,
And cluster'd grapes shall blush on every thorn;
The knotted oaks shall showers of honey weep;
And thro' the matted grass the liquid gold shall
creep.
Yet, of old fraud some footsteps shall remain :
The merchant still shall plough the deep for
Great cities shall with walls be compass'd
For every soil shall every product bear.
The lab'ring hind his oxen shall disjoin:
No plough shall hurt the globe, no pruning-hook
the vine;
Nor wool shall in dissembled colour shine;
But the luxurious father of the fold
With native purple, and unborrow'd gold,
Beneath his pompous fleece shall proudly sweat,
And under Tyrian robes the lamb shall bleat.
The Fates, when they this happy web have
Shall bless the sacred clue, and bid it smoothl
Mature in years, to ready honours move,
O, of celestial seed! O, foster-son of Jove!
See, lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain
The nodding frame, cf heav'n, and earth, ard
main!
See to their base restor'd, earth, seas, and air;
And joyful ages, from behind, in crowding ranks
To sing thy praise, would heav'n my breath prolong,
Infusing spirits worthy such a song,
Not Thracian Orpheus should transcena my lays,
Nor Linus crown'd with never fading bays; Though each his heav'nly parent should inspire;
The Muse instruct the voice, and Phoebus tune the lyre.
Should Pan contend in verse, and thou my theme,
Arcadian judges should their god condemn.
Begin, auspicious boy! to cast about
Thy infant eyes, and, with a smile, thy mother
single out.
Thy mother well deserves that short delight. The nauseous qualms of ten long months and travail to requite.
Then smile! the frowning infant's doom is read; No god shall crown the board, nor goddess bless the bed.
PASTORAL V. OR, DAPHNIS.
ARGUMENT.
Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert shepherds at a song, begin one by consent to the raemory of Daphnis, who is supposed by the best cricies o
Your merit and your years command the choice: And where the vales with violets once were Amyntas only rivals you in voice.
What will not that presuming shepherd dare, Who thinks his voice with Phœbus may compare?
Begin you first: if either Alcon's praise,
Or dying Phillis, have inspir'd your lays;
If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend,
Begin; and Tityrus your flocks shall tend.
Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat,
Which on the beech's bark I lately writ?
I writ, and sung betwixt. Now bring the swain
Whose voice you boast, and let him try the
Such as the shrub to the tall olive shows,
Or the pale sallow of the blushing rose;
Such is his voice, if I can judge aright,
Compar'd to 'hine in sweetness and in height.
No more, but sit, and hear the promis'd lay: The gloomy grotto makes a doubtful day. The nymphs about the breathless body wait Of Daphnis, and lament his cruel fate.
The trees and floods were witness to their
At length the rumour reach'd his mother's ears. The wretched parent, with a pious haste, Came running, and his lifeless limbs embrac'd. Sta sigh'd, she sobb'd; and furious with despair,
She rent her garments, and she tore her hair, Accusing all the gods, and ev'ry star. [brink The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the Of running waters brought their herds to drink. The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstain'd From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd. The death of Daphnis woods and hills deplore; They cast the sound to Libya's desert shore;
Now knotty burns and thorns disgrace the ground.
Come, shepherds, come, and strew with leaves
O'heav'nly poet! such thy verse appears,
So sweet, so charming to my ravish'd ears,
As to the weary swain with cares opprest,
Beneath the sylvan shade, refreshing rest;
As to the fev'rish traveller, when first
He finds a crystal stream to quench his thirst.
In singing, as in piping, you excel;
And scarce your master could perform so well.
O fortunate young man! at least your lays
Are next to his, and claim the second praise.
Such as they are, my rural songs I join,
To raise our Daphnis to the pow'rs divine;
For Daphnis was so good, to love whate'er was
mine.
How is my soul with such a promise rais'd!
For both the boy was worthy to be prais'd,
And Stimicon has often made me long
To hear, like him, so soft, so sweet a song.
MENALCAS,
Daphnis, the guest of heaven, with wond'ring eyes
Views, in the milky way, the starry skies, And far beneath him, from the shining sphere, Beholds the moving clouds, and rolling year,
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