PASTORALS.

If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore,

And vanquish'd nature seems to charm no more.

STREPHON.

In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love,
At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove,
But Delia always; absent from her sight,
Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.

DAPHNIS.

Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; Ev'n spring displeases, when she shines not here; But blest with her, 'tis spring throughout the year.

STREPHON.

Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears, A wondrous tree that sacred monarchs bears; Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes.

DAPHNIS.

Nay tell me first, in what more happy fields
The thistle springs, to which the lily yields:
And then a nobler prize I will resign;
For Sylvia, charming Sylvia shall be thine.

DAMON.

Cease to contend, for, Daphnis, I decree,

The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee:

85

୨୦

Blest

VER. 86. A wondrous tree that sacred monarchs bears ;] An allusion to the royal oak, in which Charles II. had been hid from the pursuit after the battle at Worcester.

Blest swains, whose nymphs in ev'ry grace excel; 95
Blest nymphs, whose swains those graces sing so well!
Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs,
A soft retreat from sudden vernal show'rs;
The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd,
While op'ning blooms diffuse their sweets around.
For see! the gath'ring flocks to shelter tend,
And from the pleiads fruitful show'rs descend.

ΙΟΙ

(79)

SUMMER:

THE SECOND PASTORAL.

OR

ALEXIS.

TO DR. GARTH.

A Shepherd's Boy (he seeks no better name)
Led forth his flocks along the silver Thame,
Where dancing sun-beams on the waters play'd,
And verdant alders form'd a quiv'ring shade.
Soft as he mourn'd, the streams forgot to flow,
The flocks around a dumb compassion show,
The Naïads wept in ev'ry wat'ry bow'r,
And Jove consented in a silent show'r.

Accept, O GARTH! the Muse's early lays,
That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays;
Hear what from love unpractis'd hearts endure,
From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure.

Ye shady beeches, and ye cooling streams, Defence from Phœbus', not from Cupid's beams,

VER. 3.] The scene of this pastoral by the river side, suitable to the heat of the season; the time, noon.

VER. 9.] Dr. Samuel Garth, author of the Dispensary, was one of the first friends of our poet, whose acquaintance with him began at fourteen or fifteen. Their friendship continued from the year 1703 to 1718, which was that of his death.

Το

you I mourn, nor to the deaf I sing,

15

The woods shall answer, and their echo ring.
The hills and rocks attend my doleful lay,
Why art thou prouder and more hard than they?
The bleating sheep with my complaints agree,
They parch'd with heat, and I inflam'd by thee.
The sultry Sirius burns the thirsty plains,
While in thy heart eternal winter reigns.

Where stray ye, Muses, in what lawn or grove,
While your Alexis pines in hopeless love?
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,

20

25

Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?

As in the crystal spring I view my face,

Fresh rising blushes paint the watʼry glass;

But since those graces please thy eyes no more,

I shun the fountains which I sought before.

30

Once I was skill'd in ev'ry herb that grew,

And ev'ry plant that drinks the morning dew;
Ah wretched shepherd, what avails thy art,
To cure thy lambs, but not to heal thy heart!

35

Let other swains attend the rural care,
Feed fairer flocks, or richer fleeces sheer:
But nigh yon' mountain let me tune my lays,
Embrace my love, and bind my brows with bays.
That flute is mine which Colin's tuneful breath
Inspir'd when living, and bequeath'd in death :

40

He

VER. 39. Colin] The name taken by Spenser in his Eclogues, where his mistress is celebrated under that of Rosalinda.

He said; Alexis, take this pipe, the same

That taught the groves my Rosalinda's name :
But now the reeds shall hang on yonder tree,
For ever silent, since despis'd by thee.
Oh! were I made by some transforming pow'r
The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r!
Then might my voice thy list'ning ears employ,
And I those kisses he receives enjoy.

And yet my numbers please the rural throng,
Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song:
The nymphs, forsaking ev'ry cave and spring,
Their early fruit, and milk-white turtles bring!
Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain,
On you their gifts are all bestow'd again.

For

you the swains their fairest flow'rs design,
And in one garland all their beauties join;
Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compriz'd in one.

60

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear! Descending gods have found Elysium here. In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd, And chaste Diana haunts the forest-shade. Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours, When swains from sheering seek their nightly bow'rs; When weary reapers quit the sultry field,

And crown'd with corn their thanks to Ceres yield.

65

This

VER 42. Rosalinda's] This is the lady with whom Spenser fell violently in love, as soon as he left Cambridge and went into the North; it is uncertain into what family, and in what capacity.