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As earth thy body keeps, thy foul the fky, 375)
So fhall this verse preserve thy memory;
For thou shalt make it live, because it fings
of thee.

Ver. 277. For thou shalt make] Our author owned he did not know the perfon on whom he wrote this long panegyric. This must be his excufe for the coldness and infipidity of the piece. Dr. J. WARTON.

ON THE DEATH OF

AMYNTA S.

A PASTORAL ELEGY.

"TWAS on a joylefs and a gloomy morn,

Wet was the grafs, and hung with pearls the

thorn;

When Damon, who defign'd to pass the day With hounds and horns, and chase the flying

prey,

Rofe early from his bed; but foon he found The welkin pitch'd with fullen clouds around,

10

An eastern wind, and dew upon the ground.)
Thus while he ftood, and fighing did furvey
The fields, and curft the ill omens of the day,
He faw Menalcas come with heavy pace;
Wet were his eyes, and chearlefs was his face:
He wrung his hands, distracted with his care,
And fent his voice before him from afar.
Return, he cry'd, return, unhappy fwain,
The fpungy clouds are fill'd with gathering rain:
The promise of the day not only crofs'd,
But e'en the spring, the fpring itself is lost.

16

Amyntas-oh!-he could not speak the reft,
Nor needed, for prefaging Damon guess'd.
Equal with heaven young Damon lov'd the boy,
The boast of nature, both his parents' joy. 21
His graceful form revolving in his mind;
So great a genius, and a foul fo kind,

25

Gave fad affurance that his fears were true;
Too well the envy of the gods he knew:
For when their gifts too lavishly are plac'd,
Soon they repent, and will not make them laft.
For fure it was too bountiful a dole,

The mother's features, and the father's foul.
Then thus he cry'd: The morn bespoke the

news:

The morning did her chearful light diffuse:

But see how suddenly she chang'd her face, And brought on clouds and rain, the day's difgrace;

30

Juft fuch, Amyntas, was thy promis'd race. What charms adorn'd thy youth, where nature fmil'd,

And more than man was given us in a child!
His infancy was ripe: a foul fublime
In years so tender that prevented time:
Heaven gave him all at once; then fnatch'd-

away,

Ere mortals all his beauties could furvey: 40 Juft like the flower that buds and withers in a

day.

35

MENALCAS.

The mother, lovely, though with grief op-
preft,

Reclin❜d his dying head upon her breaft.
The mournful family stood all around;
One groan was heard, one univerfal found:
All were in floods of tears and endless forrow
drown'd.

So dire a fadness fat on every look,

46

E'en Death repented he had given the stroke. He griev'd his fatal work had been ordain'd, But promis'd length of life to those who yet remain'd.

50

The mother's and her eldest daughter's grace,
It seems, had brib'd him to prolong their space.
The father bore it with undaunted foul,
Like one who durft his destiny controul :
Yet with becoming grief he bore his part,
Refign'd his fon, but not refign'd his heart.
Patient as Job; and may he live to fee,
Like him, a new increasing family!

DAMON.

55

Such is my wish, and fuch my prophecy, For yet, my friend, the beauteous mould remains ;

Long may the exercise her fruitful pains!
But, ah! with better hap, and bring a race
More lafting, and endu'd with equal grace!

60

Equal the may, but farther none can go:
For he was all that was exact below.

MENALCAS.

65

Damon, behold yon breaking purple cloud; Hear'ft thou not hymns and fongs divinely loud ?

There mounts Amyntas; the young cherubs

play

About their godlike mate, and fing him on his

way.

He cleaves the liquid air, behold, he flies,
And every moment gains upon the fkies.
The new-come guest admires the ætherial state,
The faphir portal, and the golden gate;
And now admitted in the fhining throng,
He fhows the paffport which he brought along.
His paffport is his innocence and grace,
Well known to all the natives of the place.
Now fing, ye joyful angels, and admire
Your brother's voice that comes to mend

quire :

76

your

Sing you, while endlefs tears our eyes beftow; For like Amyntas none is left below.

81

Ver. 81. For like Amyntas] This pastoral is very unworthy of our author.

Dr. J. WARTON.

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