contains,

To three short ells on Earth our sight restrains: Tell that, and rise a Phœbus for thy pains.

MEN. Nay, tell me first, in what new region springs

A flower that bears inscrib'd the names of kings:
And thou shalt gain a present as divine
As Phœbus' self: for Phyllis shall be thine.

PAL. So nice a difference in your singing lies,
That both have won, or both deserv'd, the prize.
Rest equal happy Both; and all who prove
The bitter sweets and pleasing pains of love.
Now dam the ditches, and the floods restrain:
Their moisture has already drench'd the plain.

SICILIAN Muse, begin a loftier strain!
Though lowly shrubs and trees, that shade the plain,
Delight not all; Sicilian Muse, prepare

To make the vocal woods deserve a consul's care.
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 degenerate 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 appoint-

ed race.

The father banish'd virtue shall restore,

And crimes shall threat the guilty world no more.
The son shall lead the life of gods, and be
By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes see.
The jarring nations he in peace shall bind,
And with paternal virtues rule mankind.
Unbidden earth shall wreathing ivy bring,
And fragrant herbs, (the promises of spring)
As her first offerings to her infant king.
The goats, with strutting dugs, shall homeward
speed,

And lowing herds secure from lions feed.

His cradle shall with rising flowers be crown'd;
The serpent's brood shall die: the sacred ground
Shall weeds and poisonous 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.

And through the matted grass the liquid gold shall creep.

Yet of old fraud some footsteps shall remain,
The merchant still shall plough the deep for gain:
Great cities shall with walls be compass'd round;
And sharpen'd shares shall vex the fruitful ground,
Another Typhis shall new seas explore,

Another Argos land the chiefs upon th' Iberian
Another Helen other wars create,
[shore.
And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate.
But when to ripen'd manhood he shall grow,
The greedy sailor shall the seas forego;
No keel shall cut the waves for foreign ware;
For every soil shall every product bear.
The labouring hind his oxen shall disjoin,
No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruninghook
the vine,

Nor wool shall in dissembled colours shine;
But the luxurious father of the fold,
With native purple, or 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 spun,
Shall bless the sacred clue, and bid it smoothly run.
O of celestial sced! O foster-son of Jove!
Mature in years, to ready honours move,
See, labouring Nature calls thee to sustain
The nodding frame of heaven, and earth, and main;
See, to their base restor'd, earth, seas, and air,
And joyful ages from behind, in crowding ranks
appear,
To sing thy praise, would Heaven my breath pro-
Infusing spirits worthy such a song;
Nor Linus, crown'd with never-fading bays;
Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays,
Though each his heavenly parent should inspire;
The Muse instruct the voice, and Phœbus tune the
lyre.

[long,

[out;

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
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.

Where whistling winds uncertain shadows make:
Or will you to the cooler cave succeed,
Whose mouth the curling vines have overspread?
MEN. Your merit and your years command the
Amyntas only rivals you in voice.

[choice:

MOPS. What will not that presuming shepherd
dare,

Who thinks his voice with Phoebus may compare?
MEN. Begin you first; if either Alcon's praise,
Or dying Phyllis, have inspir'd your lays:
If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend,
Begin, and Tityrus your flock shall tend.

MOPS. 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 strain.
MEN. Such as the shrub to the tall olive shows,
Or the pale sallow to the blushing rose;
Such is his voice, if I can judge aright,
Compar'd to thine, in sweetness and in height.
MOPS. 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 tears:
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.
She sigh'd, she sobb'd, and, furious with despair,
She rent her garments, and she tore her hair:
Accusing all the gods, and every star.

The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the brink
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;
The Libyan lions hear, and hearing roar.
Fierce tigers Daphnis taught the yoke to bear;
And first with curling ivy dress'd the spear;
Daphnis did rites to Bacchus first ordain;
And holy revels for his reeling train.

As vines the trees, as grapes the vines adorn,
As bulls the herds, and fields the yellow corn:
So bright a splendour, so divine a grace,
The glorious Daphnis cast on his illustrious race.
When envious fate the godlike Daphnis took,
Our guardian gods the fields and piains forsook:
Pales no longer swell'd the teeming grain,
Nor Phoebus fed his oxen on the plain;
No fruitful crop the sickly fields return;
But oats and darnel choke the rising corn.
And where the vales with violets once were crown'd,
Now knotty burrs and thorns disgrace the ground.
Come, shepherds, conue, and strow with leaves the
Such funeral rites your Daphnis did ordain. [plain;
With eypress boughs the crystal fountains hide,
And softly let the running waters glide,
A lasting monument to Daphnis raise,
With this inscription to record his praise:
"Daphnis, the field's delight, the shepherd's love,
Renown'd on Earth, and deify'd above,
Whose flock excell'd the fairest on the plains,
But less than he himself surpass'd the swains."
MEN. O heavenly 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 powers divine;
For Daphnis was so good to love whate'er was mine.
MOPS. How is my soul with such a promise rais'd!
For both the boy was worthy to be prais'd,
And Stimichon has often made me long
To hear, like him, so soft, so sweet a song.
MEN. Daphnis, the guest of Heaven, with wonder-
ing eyes,

Views in the milky way the starry skies.
And far beneath him, from the shining sphere,
Beholds the moving clouds, and rolling year.
For this, with cheerful cries the woods resound;
The purple spring arrays the various ground;
The nymphs and shepherds dance; and Pan him-
self is crown'd.

The wolf no longer prowls for nightly spoils,
Nor birds the springes fear, nor stags the toils:
For Daphnis reigns above, and deals from thence
His mother's milder beams and peaceful influence.
The mountain-tops unshorn, the rocks rejoice;
The lowly shrubs partake of human voice.
Assenting Nature, with a gracious nod,
Proclaims him, and salutes the new-admitted god.
Be still propitious, ever good to thine;
Behold four hallow'd altars we design;
And two to thee, and two to Phœbus rise;
On both are offer'd annual sacrifice.
The holy priests, at each returning year,
Two bowls of milk and two of oil shall bear ;
And I myself the guests with friendly bowls will
cheer.

Two goblets will I crown with sparkling wine,
The generous vintage of the Chian vine;
These will I pour to thee, and make the nectar
In winter shall the genial feast be made [thine.
Before the fire; by summer in the shade.
Damætas shall perform the rites divine:
And Lyctian Egon in the song shall join.
Alphesibeus, tripping, shall advance;
And mimic satyrs in his antic dance.
When to the nymphs our annual rites we pay,
And when our fields with victims we survey:
While savage boars delight in shady woods,
And finny fish inhabit in the floods;
While bees on thyme, and locusts feed on dew,
Thy grateful swains these honours shall renew.
Such honours as we pay to powers divine,
To Bacchus and to Ceres, shall be thine.
Such annual honours shall be giv'n, and thou
Shalt hear, and shalt condemn thy suppliants to

their vow.

find!

MOPS. What present worth thy verse can Mopsus Not the soft whispers of the southern wind, That play thro' trembling trees, delight me more; Nor murmuring billows on the sounding shore; Nor winding streams, that through the valley glide, And the scarce cover'd pebbles gently chide.

Receive you first this tuneful pipe; the same That play'd my Corydon's unhappy flame. The same that sung Neæra's conquering eyes; And, had the judge been just, had won the prize.

On this his ancient oracles rehearse,
And with new numbers grace the god of verse.
Why should I sing the double Scylla's fate,
The first by love transform'd, the last by hate.
A beauteous maid above, but magic arts,
With barking dogs deform'd her nether parts:
What vengeance on the passing fleet she pour'd,
The master frighted, and the mates devour'd,
Then ravish'd Philomel the song express'd;
The crime reveal'd; the sisters' cruel feast:
And how in fields the lapwing Tereus reigns;
The warbling nightingale in woods complains.
While Progne makes on chimney-tops her moan;
And hovers o'er the palace once her own.
Whatever songs besides, the Delphian god
Had taught the laurels, and the Spartan flood,
Silenus sung: the vales his voice rebound,
And carry to the skies the sacred sound.
And now the setting Sun had warn'd the swain
To call his counted cattle from the plain:
Yet still th' unweary'd sire pursues the tuneful
.. strain,

Till unperceiv'd the Heavens with stars were hung:
And sudden night surpris'd the yet unfinish'd song.

THE SEVENTH PASTORAL;

OR,
MELIBEUS.

THE ARGUMENT.

MELIBUS here gives us the relation of a sharp poetical contest between Thyrsis and Corydon; at which he himself and Daphnis were present: who both declared for Corydon.

BENEATH a holm, repair'd two jolly swains;
Their sheep and goats together graz'd the plains;
Both young Arcadians, both alike inspir'd
To sing, and answer as the song requir'd.
Daphnis, as umpire, took the middle seat;
And fortune thither led my weary feet.
For while I fenc'd my myrtles from the cold,
The father of my flock had wander'd from the fold.
Of Daphnis I inquir'd; he, smiling, said,
"Dismiss your fear," and pointed where he fed.
"And, if no greater cares disturb your mind,
Sit here with us, in covert of the wind.
Your lowing heifers, of their own accord,
At watering time, will seek the neighbouring ford.
Here wanton Mincius winds along the meads,
And shades his happy banks with bending reeds :
And see from yon old oak, that mates the skies,
How black the clouds of swarming bees arise."
What should I do! nor was Alcippe nigh,
Nor absent Phyllis could my care supply,
To house, and feed by hand, my weaning lambs,
And drain the strutting udders of their dams?
Great was the strife betwixt the singing swains:
And I preferr'd my pleasure to my gains.
Alternate rhyme the ready champions chose :
These Corydon rehears'd, and Thyrsis those.

COR. Ye Muses, ever fair, and ever young,
Assist my numbers, and inspire my song.

With all my Codrus O inspire my breast,
For Codrus, after Phœbus, sings the best,
Or if my wishes have presum'd too high,
And stretch'd their bounds beyond mortality,
The praise of artful numbers 1 resign:
And hang my pipe upon the sacred pine.

THYR. Arcadian swains, your youthful poet crown
With ivy wreaths: though surly Codrus frown,
Or if he blast my Muse with envious praise,
Then fence my brows with amulets of bays:
Lest his ill arts, or his malicious tongue,
Should poison or bewitch my growing song.

COR. These branches of a stag, this tusky boar,
(The first essay of arms untry'd before)
Young Mycon offers, Delia, to thy shrine;
But speed his hunting with thy power divine.
Thy statue then of Parian stone shall stand;
Thy legs in buskins with a purple band.
THYR. This bowl of milk, these cakes, (our coun-
try fare)

For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare,
Because a little garden is thy care.
But if the falling lambs increase my fold,
Thy marble statue shall be turn'd to gold.
-COR. Fair Galatea, with thy silver feet,
O, whiter than the swan, and more than Hybla
Tall as a poplar, taper as the bole, [sweet;
Come, charm thy shepherd, and restore my soul,
Come when my lated sheep at night return;
And crown the silent hours, and stop the rosy morn.
THYR. May I become as abject in thy sight,
As seaweed on the shore, and black as night:
Rough as a bur, deform'd like him who chaws
Sardinian herbage to contract his jaws ;

Such and so monstrous let thy swain appear,
If one day's absence looks not like a year.
Hence from the field, for shame; the flock deserves
No better feeding, while the shepherd starves.
COR. Ye mossy springs, inviting easy sleep,
Ye trees, whose leafy shades those mossy fountains
keep,

Defend my flock; the summer heats are near,
And blossoms on the swelling vines appear.

THYR. With heapy fires our cheerful hearth
crown'd;

And firs for torches in the woods abound:
We fear not more the winds, and wintry cold,
Than streams the banks, or wolves the bleating fold.
COR. Our woods with juniper and chesnuts
crown'd,

With falling fruits and berries paint the ground;
And lavish Nature laughs, and strows her stores.
But if Alexis from our mountains fly,
[around.
Ev'n running rivers leave their channels dry.
THYR. Parch'd are the plains, and frying is the

field,

But if my Lycidas will ease my pains,
And often visit our forsaken plains,
To him the towering ash shall yield in woods;
In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods.

MEL. These rhymes I did to memory commend,
When vanquish'd Thyrsis did in vain contend;
Since when 'tis Corydon among the swains,
Young Corydon without a rival reigns,

THE EIGHTH PASTORAL;

OR, PHARMACEUTRIA.

THE ARGUMENT.

THIS pastoral contains the songs of Damon and Alphesibaeus. The first of them bewails the loss of his mistress, and repines at the success of his rival Mopsus. The other repeats the charms of some enchantress, who endeavoured, by her spells and magic, to make Daphnis in love with her.

f

THE mournful Muse of two despairing swains,
The love rejected, and the lover's pains,
To which the savage lynxes listening stood,
The rivers stood on heaps, and stopp'd the running
flood:

The hungry herd their needful food refuse;
Of two despairing swains I sing the mournful Muse.
Great Pollio, thou for whom thy Rome prepares
The ready triumph of thy finish'd wars,
Whether Timavus or th' Illyrian coast,
Whatever land or sea thy presence boast;
Is there an hour in fate reserv'd for me,
To sing thy deeds in numbers worthy thee?
In numbers like to thine, could I rehearse
Thy lofty tragic scenes, thy labour'd verse;
The world another Sophocles in thee,
Another Homer should behold in me:
Amidst thy laurels let this ivy twine,

'Thine was my earliest Muse; my latest shall be

thine.

drew; Searce from the world the shades of night withScarce were the flocks refresh'd with morning dew, When Damon, stretch'd beneath an olive shade, And wildly staring upwards, thus inveigh'd Against the conscious gods, and curs'd the cruel maid:

"Star of the morning, why dost thou delay?
Come, Lucifer, drive on the lagging day?
While I my Nisa's perjur'd faith deplore;
Witness, ye powers, by whom she falsely swore!
The gods, alas! are witnesses in vain ;
Yet shall my dying breath to Heaven complain.
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mænalian strain.
"The pines of Mænalus, the vocal grove,
Are ever full of verse, and full of love:
They hear the hinds, they hear their god complain;
Who suffer'e not the reeds to rise in vain.
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Manalian strain.

Mopsus triumphs; he weds the willing fair: When such is Nisa's choice, what lover can despair! Now griffons join with mares; another age

Shall see the hound and hind their thirst asswage

Promiscuous at the spring: prepare the lights,
O Mopsus! and perform the bridal rites.
Scatter thy nuts among the scrambling boys:
Thine is the night, and thine the nuptial joys.
For thee the Sun declines: O happy swain!
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mænalian strain.
"O, Nisa! justly to thy choice condemn'd!
Whom hast thou taken, whom hast thou contemn'd;
For him, thou hast refus'd my browsing herd,
Scorn'd my thick eyebrows, and my shaggy beard.
Unhappy Damon sighs, and sings in vain:
While Nisa thinks no god regards a lover's pain,
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mænalian strain.
"I view'd thee first, how fatal was the view!
And led thee where the ruddy wildings grew
High on the planted hedge, and wet with morning
dew.

Then scarce the bending branches I could win,
The callow down began to clothe my chin;
I saw, I perish'd; yet indulg'd my pain:
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mænalian strain.
"I know thee, Love; in deserts thou wert bred;
And at the dugs of savage tigers fed :
Alien of birth, usurper of the plains: [strains.
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Manalian
"Relentless love the cruel mother led,
The blood of her unhappy babes to shed:
Love lent the sword; the mother struck the blow;
Inhuman she; but more unhappy thou.
Alien of birth, usurper of the plains: [strains.
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Manalian
"Old doting Nature, change thy course anew:
And let the trembling lamb the wolf pursue:
Let oaks now glitter with Hesperian fruit,
And purple daffodils from alder shoot.
Fat amber let the tamarisk distil :
And hooting owls contend with swans in skill.
Hoarse Tityrus strive with Orpheus in the woods;
And challenge fam'd Arion on the floods.
Or, oh let Nature cease, and chaos reign:
Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Mænalian strain.
"Let earth be sea; and let the whelming tide
The lifeless limbs of luckless Damon hide:
Farewell, ye secret woods and shady groves,
Haunts of my youth, and conscious of my loves!
From yon high cliff I plunge into the main;
Take the last present of thy dying swain:
And cease, my silent flute, the sweet Mænalian
strain."