The works of Virgil containing his Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis : adorn'd with a hundred sculptures / translated into English verse by Mr. Dryden.

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Ec. 1. l. 1

To the Right Hon^ble John Lord Sommers Baron of Eresham L^d High Chancell^r: of England &c.

Virgil's Pastorals.

The First Pastoral. OR Tityrus and Meliboeus.

The Argument.

The Occasion of the First Pastoral was this. When Augustus had setled himself in the Roman Empire, that he might reward his Veteran Troops for their past Service, he distributed among 'em all the Lands that lay about Cremona and Mantua: turning out the right Owners for having sided with his Enemies. Virgil was a Sufferer among the rest; who afterwards recover'd his Estate by Mecaenas's Intercession, and as an Instance of his Gra∣titude compos'd the following Pastoral; where he sets out his own Good Fortune in the Person of Tityrus, and the Calamities of his Mantuan Neighbours in the Character of Meliboeus.

MELIBOEUS.

BEneath the Shade which Beechen Boughs diffuse, You Tity'rus entertain your Silvan Muse: Round the wide World in Banishment we rome, Forc'd from our pleasing Fields and Native Home: While stretch'd at Ease you sing your happy loves:Line 5 And Amarillis fills the shady Groves.

TITYRUS.

These blessings, Friend, a Deity bestow'd: For never can I deem him less than God. The tender Firstlings of my Woolly breed Shall on his holy Altar often bleed.Line 10 He gave my Kine to graze the Flowry Plain: And to my Pipe renew'd the Rural Strain.

MELIBOEUS.

I envy not your Fortune, but admire, That while the raging Sword and wastful Fire Destroy the wretched Neighbourhood around,Line 15 No Hostile Arms approach your happy ground. Far diff'rent is my Fate: my feeble Goats With pains I drive from their forsaken Cotes. And this you see I scarcely drag along, Who yeaning on the Rocks has left her Young;Line 20 (The Hope and Promise of my failing Fold:) My loss by dire Portents the Gods foretold: For had I not been blind I might have seen You riven Oak, the fairest of the Green, And the hoarse Raven, on the blasted Bough,Line 25 With frequent Crokes presag'd the coming Blow. But tell me, Tityrus, what Heav'nly Power Preserv'd your Fortunes in that fatal Hour?

TITYRUS.

Fool that I was, I thought Imperial Rome Like Mantua, where on Market-days we come,Line 30 And thether drive our tender Lambs from home. So Kids and Whelps their Syres and Dams express: And so the Great I measur'd by the Less. But Country Towns, compar'd with her, appear Like Shrubs, when lofty Cypresses are near.Line 35

MELIBOEUS.

What great Occasion call'd you hence to Rome?

TITYRUS.

Freedom, which came at length, tho' slow to come: Nor did my Search of Liberty begin, Till my black Hairs were chang'd upon my Chin. Nor Amarillis wou'd vouchsafe a look,Line 40 Till Galeatea's meaner bonds I broke.

Till then a helpless, hopeless, homely Swain, I sought not freedom, nor aspir'd to Gain: Tho' many a Victim from my Folds was bought, And many a Cheese to Country Markets brought,Line 45 Yet all the little that I got, I spent, And still return'd as empty as I went.

MELIBOEUS.

We stood amaz'd to see your Mistress mourn; Unknowing that she pin'd for your return: We wonder'd why she kept her Fruit, so long,Line 50 For whom so late th' ungather'd Apples hung. But now the Wonder ceases, since I see She kept them only, Tityrus, for thee. For thee the bubling Springs appear'd to mourn, And whisp'ring Pines made vows for thy return.Line 55

TITYRUS.

What shou'd I do! while here I was enchain'd, No glimpse of Godlike Liberty remain'd? Nor cou'd I hope in any place, but there, To find a God so present to my Pray'r. There first the Youth of Heav'nly Birth I view'd;Line 60 For whom our Monthly Victims are renew'd. He heard my Vows, and graciously decreed My Grounds to be restor'd, my former Flocks to feed.

MELIBOEUS.

O Fortunate Old Man! whose Farm remains For you sufficient, and requites your pains,Line 65 Tho' Rushes overspread the Neighb'ring Plains. Tho' here the Marshy Grounds approach your Fields, And there the Soyl a stony Harvest yields. Your teeming Ewes shall no strange Meadows try, Nor fear a Rott from tainted Company.Line 70 Behold yon bord'ring Fence of Sallow Trees Is fraught with Flow'rs, the Flow'rs are fraught with Bees:

The buisie Bees with a soft murm'ring Strain Invite to gentle sleep the lab'ring Swain. While from the Neighb'ring Rock, with Rural Songs,Line 75 The Pruner's Voice the pleasing Dream prolongs; Stock-Doves and Turtles tell their Am'rous pain, And from the lofty Elms of Love complain.

TITYRUS.

Th' Inhabitants of Seas and Skies shall change, And Fish on shoar and Stags in Air shall range,Line 80 The banish'd Parthian dwell on Arar's brink, And the blue German shall the Tigris drink: E're I, forsaking Gratitude and Truth, Forget the Figure of that Godlike Youth.

MELIBOEUS.

But we must beg our Bread in Climes unknown,Line 85 Beneath the scorching or the freezing Zone. And some to far Oaxis shall be sold; Or try the Lybian Heat, or Scythian Cold. The rest among the Britans be confin'd; A Race of Men from all the World dis-join'd.Line 90 O must the wretched Exiles ever mourn, Nor after length of rowl'ing Years return? Are we condem'd by Fates unjust Decree, No more our Houses and our Homes to see? Or shall we mount again the Rural Throne,Line 95 And rule the Country Kingdoms, once our own! Did we for these Barbarians plant and sow, On these, on these, our happy Fields bestow? Good Heav'n, what dire Effects from Civil Discord flow! Now let me graff my Pears, and prune the Vine;Line 100 The Fruit is theirs, the Labour only mine. Farewel my Pastures, my Paternal Stock, My fruitful Fields, and my more fruitful Flock!

No more, my Goats, shall I behold you climb The steepy Cliffs, or crop the flow'ry Thyme!Line 105 No more, extended in the Grot below, Shall see you browzing on the Mountain's brow The prickly Shrubs; and after on the bare, Lean down the Deep Abyss, and hang in Air. No more my Sheep shall sip the Morning Dew;Line 110 No more my Song shall please the Rural Crue:, Adieu, my tuneful Pipe! and all the World adieu!

TITYRUS.

This Night, at least, with me forget your Care; Chesnuts and Curds and Cream shall be your fare: The Carpet-ground shall be with Leaves o'respread;Line 115 And Boughs shall weave a Cov'ring for your Head. For see yon sunny Hill the Shade extends; And curling Smoke from Cottages ascends.

The Second Pastoral. OR, ALEXIS.

The Argument.

The Commentators can by no means agree on the Person of Alexis, but are all of opinion that some Beautiful Youth is meant by him, to whom Virgil here makes Love; in Corydon's Language and Simplicity. His way of Courtship is wholly Pastoral: He com∣plains of the Boys Coyness, recommends himself for his Beauty and Skill in Piping; invites the Youth into the Country, where he promi∣ses him the Diversions of the Place; with a suitable Present of Nuts and Apples: But when he finds nothing will prevail, he re∣solves to quit his troublesome Amour, and betake himself again to his former Business.

Young Corydon, th' unhappy Shepherd Swain, The fair Alexis lov'd, but lov'd in vain: And underneath the Beechen Shade, alone, Thus to the Woods and Mountains made his moan. Is this, unkind Alexis, my reward,Line 5 And must I die unpitied, and unheard? Now the green Lizard in the Grove is laid, The Sheep enjoy the coolness of the Shade; And Thestilis wild Thime and Garlike beats For Harvest Hinds, o'respent with Toyl and Heats:Line 10 While in the scorching Sun I trace in vain Thy flying footsteps o're the burning Plain. The creaking Locusts with my Voice conspire, They fry'd with Heat, and I with fierce Desire. How much more easie was it to sustainLine 15 Proud Amarillis, and her haughty Reign, The Scorns of Young Menalcas, once my care, Tho' he was black, and thou art Heav'nly fair.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble: Thomas Earle of Pembroke and Montgomery, Lord Privy Seale & 〈…〉〈…〉

Past: 2.

Trust not too much to that enchanting Face; Beauty's a Charm, but soon the Charm will pass:Line 20 White Lillies lie neglected on the Plain, While dusky Hyacinths for use remain. My Passion is thy Scorn; nor wilt thou know What Wealth I have, what Gifts I can bestow: What Stores my Dairies and my Folds contain;Line 25 A thousand Lambs that wander on the Plain: 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.Line 30 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, tho' judg'd by you. O leave the noisie Town, O come and seeLine 35 Our Country Cotts, and live content with me! To wound the Flying Deer, and from their Cotes With me to drive a-Field, the browzing Goats: To pipe and sing, and in our Country Strain To Copy, or perhaps contend with Pan.Line 40 Pan taught to joyn with Wax unequal Reeds, Pan loves the Shepherds, and their Flocks he feeds: Nor scorns the Pipe; Amyntas, to be taught, With all his Kisses would my Skill have bought. Of seven smooth joints a mellow Pipe I have,Line 45 Which with his dying Breath Damaetas gave: And said, This, Corydon, I leave to thee; For only thou deserv'st it after me. His Eyes Amyntas durst not upward lift, For much he grudg'd the Praise, but more the Gift.Line 50 Besides two Kids that in the Valley stray'd, I found by chance, and to my fold convey'd:

They drein to bagging Udders every day; And these shall be Companions of thy Play. Both fleck'd with white, the true Arcadian Strain,Line 55 Which Thestilis had often beg'd in vain: And she shall have them, if again she sues, Since you the Giver and the Gift refuse. Come to my longing Arms, my lovely care, And take the Presents which the Nymphs prepare.Line 60 White Lillies 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 cropt the Poppy's Head: The Short Narcissus and fair Daffodil,Line 65 Pancies 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 strow'd, To dress thy Bow'r, and trim thy new Abode.Line 70 My self will search our planted Grounds at home, For downy Peaches and the glossie Plum: And thrash the Chesnuts in the Neighb'ring Grove, Such as my Amarillis us'd to love. The Laurel and the Myrtle sweets agree;Line 75 And both in Nosegays shall be bound for thee. 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.Line 80 What have I done, to name that wealthy Swain, So powerful are his Presents, mine so mean! The Boar amidst my Crystal Streams I bring; And Southern Winds to blast my flow'ry Spring. Ah, cruel Creature, whom dost thou despise?Line 85 The Gods to live in Woods have left the Skies.

And Godlike Paris in th' Idean Grove, To Priam's Wealth prefer'd Oenone's Love. In Cities which she built, let Pallas Reign; Tow'rs are for Gods, but Forrests for the Swain.Line 90 The greedy Lyoness the Wolf pursues, The Wolf the Kid, the wanton Kid the Browze: Alexis thou art chas'd by Corydon; All follow sev'ral Games, and each his own. See from afar the Fields no longer smoke,Line 95 The sweating Steers unharnass'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 Heaven! that made no Cure for Love!Line 100 I wish for balmy Sleep, but wish in vain: Love has no bounds in Pleasure, or in Pain. What frenzy, Shepherd, has thy Soul possess'd, Thy Vinyard lies half prun'd, and half undress'd. Quench, Corydon, thy long unanswer'd fire:Line 105 Mind what the common wants of Life require. On willow Twigs employ thy weaving care: And find an easier Love, tho' not so fair.

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The Third Pastoral. OR, PALAEMON.

Menalcas, Damaetas, Palaemon.

The Argument.

Damaetas and Menalcas, after some smart strokes of Country Railery, resolve to try who has the most Skill at a Song; and ac∣cordingly make their Neighbour Palaemon Judge of their Perfor∣mances: Who, after a full hearing of both Parties, declares him∣self unfit for the Decision of so weighty a Controversie, and leaves the Victory undetermin'd.

MENALCAS.

HO, Groom, what Shepherd owns those ragged Sheep?

DAMAETAS.

Aegon's they are, he gave 'em me to keep.

MENALCAS.

Unhappy Sheep of an Unhappy Swain, While he Neaera courts, but courts in vain, And fears that I the Damsel shall obtain;Line 5 Thou, Varlet, dost thy Master's gains devour: Thou milk'st his Ewes, and often twice an hour; Of Grass and Fodder thou defraud'st the Dams: And of their Mothers Duggs the starving Lambs.

DAMAETAS.

Good words, young Catamite, at least to Men:Line 10 We know who did your Business, how, and when. And in what Chappel too you plaid your prize; And what the Goats observ'd with leering Eyes: The Nymphs werekind, and laught, and there your safety lies.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble: Charles Sackvill Earle of Dorsett & Midleseoc Lord Chamberlain of his Maj^ts. househould &c.

Past 3.

MENALCAS.

Yes, when I crept the Hedges of the Leys;Line 15 Cut Micon's tender Vines, and stole the Stays.

DAMAETAS.

Or rather, when beneath yon ancient Oak, The Bow of Daphnis and the Shafts you broke: When the fair Boy receiv'd the Gift of right; And but for Mischief, you had dy'd for spight.Line 20

MENALCAS.

What Nonsense wou'd the Fool thy Master prate, When thou, his Knave, can'st talk at such a rate! Did I not see you, Rascal, did I not! When you lay snug to snap young Damon's Goat? His Mungril bark'd, I ran to his relief,Line 25 And cry'd, There, there he goes; stop, stop the Thief. Discover'd and defeated of your Prey, You sculk'd behind the Fence, and sneak'd away.

DAMAETAS.

An honest Man may freely take his own; The Goat was mine, by singing fairly won.Line 30 A solemn match was made; He lost the Prize, Ask Damon, ask if he the Debt denies; I think he dares not, if he does, he lyes.

MENALCAS.

Thou sing with him, thou Booby; never Pipe Was so profan'd to touch that blubber'd Lip:Line 35 Dunce at the best; in Streets but scarce allow'd To tickle, on thy Straw, the stupid Crowd.

DAMAETAS.

To bring it to the Trial, will you dare Our Pipes, our Skill, our Voices to compare? My Brinded Heifar to the Stake I lay;Line 40 Two Thriving Calves she suckles twice a day:

And twice besides her Beestings never fail To store the Dairy, with a brimming Pail. Now back your singing with an equal Stake.

MENALCAS.

That shou'd be seen, if I had one to make.Line 45 You know too well I feed my Father's Flock: What can I wager from the common Stock? A Stepdame too I have, a cursed she, Who rules my Hen-peck'd Sire, and orders me. Both number twice a day the Milky Dams;Line 50 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;Line 55 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;Line 60 Conon, and what's his Name who made the Sphere, And shew'd the Seasons of the sliding Year, Instructed in his Trade the Lab'ring Swain, And when to reap, and when to sowe the Grain?

DAMAETAS.

And I have two, to match your pair, at home;Line 65 The Wood the same, from the same Hand they come: The kimbo Handles seem with Bears-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 Grove:Line 70 But these, nor all the Proffers you can make, Are worth the Heifar which I set to stake.

MENALCAS.

No more delays, vain Boaster, but begin: I prophecy before-hand I shall win. Palaemon shall be Judge how ill you rhime,Line 75 I'll teach you how to brag another time.

DAMAETAS.

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.Line 80

PALAEMON.

Sing then; the Shade affords a proper place; The Trees are cloath'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 Damaetas shall belong,Line 85 Menalcas shall sustain his under Song: Each in his turn your tuneful numbers bring; In turns the tuneful Muses love to sing.

DAMAETAS.

From the great Father of the Gods above My Muse begins; for all is full of Jove;Line 90 To Jove the care of Heav'n and Earth belongs; My Flocks he blesses, and he loves my Songs.

MENALCAS.

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,Line 95 My blushing Hyacinths, and my Bays I keep.

DAMAETAS.

With pelted Fruit, me Galatea plyes; Then tripping to the Woods the Wanton hies: And wishes to be seen, before she flies.

But from my frowning Fair, more Ills I find, Than from the Wolves, and Storms, and Winter-wind.

MENALCAS.

The Kids with pleasure browze the bushy Plain, The Show'rs are grateful to the swelling Grain: To teeming Ewes the Sallow's tender tree;Line 130 But more than all the World my Love to me.

DAMAETAS.

Pollio my Rural Verse vouchsafes to read: A Heyfar, Muses, for your Patron breed.

MENALCAS.

My Pollio writes himself, a Bull be bred, With spurning Heels, and with a butting Head.Line 135

DAMAETAS.

Who Pollio loves, and who his Muse admires, Let Pollio's fortune crown his full desires. Let Myrrh instead of Thorn his Fences fill: And Show'rs of Hony from his Oaks distil.

MENALCAS.

Who hates not living Bavius, let him beLine 140 (Dead Maevius) damn'd to love thy Works and thee: The same ill taste of Sense wou'd serve to join Dog Foxes in the Yoak, and sheer the Swine.

DAMAETAS.

Ye Boys, who pluck the Flow'rs, and spoil the Spring, Beware the secret Snake, that shoots a sting.Line 145

MENALCAS.

Graze not too near the Banks, my jolly Sheep, The Ground is false, the running Streams are deep: See, they have caught the Father of the Flock; Who drys his Fleece upon the neighb'ring Rock.

DAMAETAS.

From Rivers drive the Kids, and sling your Hook;Line 150 Anon I'll wash 'em in the shallow Brook.

MENALCAS.

But fair Amyntas comes unask'd to me;Line 100 And offers Love; and sits upon my knee: Not Delia to my Dogs is known so well as he.

DAMAETAS.

To the dear Mistress of my Love-sick Mind, Her Swain a pretty Present has design'd: I saw two Stock-doves billing, and e're longLine 105 Will take the Nest, and Hers shall be the Young.

MENALCAS.

Ten ruddy Wildings in the Wood I found, And stood on tip-toes, reaching from the ground; I sent Amyntas all my present Store; And will, to Morrow, send as many more.Line 110

DAMAETAS.

The lovely Maid lay panting in my arms; And all she said and did was full of Charms. Winds on your Wings to Heav'n her Accents bear; Such words as Heav'n alone is fit to hear.

MENALCAS.

Ah! what avails it me, my Love's delight,Line 115 To call you mine, when absent from my sight! I hold the Nets, while you pursue the Prey; And must not share the Dangers of the Day.

DAMAETAS.

I keep my Birth-day: send my Phillis home; At Sheering-time, Iolas, you may come.Line 120

MENALCAS.

With Phillis I am more in grace than you: Her Sorrow did my parting-steps pursue: Adieu my Dear, she said, a long Adieu.

DAMAETAS.

The Nightly Wolf is baneful to the Fold, Storms to the Wheat, to Budds the bitter Cold;Line 125

MENALCAS.

To fold, my Flock; when Milk is dry'd with heat, In vain the Milk-maid tugs an empty Teat.

DAMAETAS.

How lank my Bulls from plenteous pasture come! But Love that drains the Herd, destroys the Groom.Line 155

MENALCAS.

My Flocks are free from Love; yet look so thin, Their bones are barely cover'd with their Skin. What magick has bewitch'd the woolly Dams, And what ill Eyes beheld the tender Lambs?

DAMAETAS.

Say, where the round of Heav'n, which all contains,Line 160 To three short Ells on Earth our sight restrains: Tell that, and rise a Phoebus for thy pains.

MENALCAS.

Nay tell me first, in what new Region springs A Flow'r, that bears inscrib'd the names of Kings: And thou shalt gain a Present as DivineLine 165 As Phoebus self; for Phillis shall be thine.

PALAEMON.

So nice a diff'rence in your Singing lyes, 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.Line 170 Now dam the Ditches, and the Floods restrain: Their moisture has already drench'd the Plain.

The Fourth Pastoral. OR, POLLIO.

The Argument.

The Poet celebrates the Birth-day of Saloninus, the Son of Pollio, born in the Consulship of his Father, after the taking of Salo∣nae, a City in Dalmatia. Many of the Verses are translated from one of the Sybils, who prophesie of our Saviour's Birth.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble. Lionel Cranfeild Sackvill Lord Buck hurst, eldest son of Charles Earle of Dorsett & Midlesex.

Past: 4.

SIcilian Muse begin a loftier strain! Though lowly Shrubs and Trees that shade the Plain, Delight not all; Sicilian Muse, pepare To make the vocal Woods deserve a Consul's care. The last great Age, foretold by sacred Rhymes,Line 5 Renews its finish'd Course, Saturnian times Rowl round again, and mighty years, begun From their first Orb, in radiant Circles run. The base degenerate Iron-off-spring ends; A golden Progeny from Heav'n descends;Line 10 O chast 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; Majestick Months set out with him to their appointed Race.Line 15 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. Line 20

The jarring Nations he in peace shall bind,Line 20 And with paternal Virtues rule Mankind. Unbidden Earth shall 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,Line 25 And lowing Herds, secure from Lyons feed. His Cradle shall with rising Flow'rs be crown'd; The Serpents Brood shall die: the sacred ground Shall Weeds and pois'nous Plants refuse to bear, Each common Bush shall Syrian Roses wear.Line 30 But when Heroick 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 show'rs of Honey weep,Line 35 And through the Matted Grass the liquid Cold 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.Line 40 Another Typhis shall new Seas explore, Another Argos land the Chiefs, upon th' Iberian Shore. Another Helen other Wars create, And great Achilles urge the Trojan Fate: But when to ripen'd Man-hood he shall grow,Line 45 The greedy Sailer 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 disjoyn, No Plow shall hurt the Glebe, no Pruning-hook the Vine:Line 50 Nor Wooll 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:Line 55 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. Mature in years, to ready Honours move, O of Coelestial Seed! O foster Son of Jove!Line 60 See, lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain The nodding Frame of Heav'n, 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, wou'd Heav'n my breath prolong,Line 65 Insusing Spirits worthy such a Song; Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my Layes, Nor Linus crown'd with never-fading Bayes: Though each his Heav'nly Parent shou'd inspire; The Muse instruct the Voice, and Phoebus tune the Lyre.Line 70 Shou'd Pan contend in Verse, and thou my Theme, Arcadian Judges shou'd 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,Line 75 The nauseous Qualms of ten long Months and Travel to requite. Then smile; the frowning Infant's Doom is read, No God shall crown the Board, nor Goodess bless the Bed.

The Fifth Pastoral. OR, DAPHNIS.

The Argument.

Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert Shepherds at a Song, begin one by consent to the Memory of Daphnis; who is suppos'd by the best Criticks to represent Julius Caesar. Mopsus laments his Death, Menalcas proclaims his Divinity. The whole Ec∣logue consisting of an Elegie and an Apotheosis.

MENALCAS.

SInce on the Downs our Flocks together feed, And since my Voice can match your tuneful Reed, Why sit we not beneath the grateful Shade, Which Hazles, intermix'd with Elms, have made?

MOPSUS.

Whether you please that Silvan Scene to take,Line 5 Where whistling Winds uncertain Shadows make: Or will you to the cooler Cave succeed, Whose Mouth the curling Vines have overspread?

MENALCAS.

Your Merit and your Years command the Choice:Line 10 Amyntas only rivals you in Voice.

MOPSUS.

What will not that presuming Shepherd dare, Who thinks his Voice with Phoebus may compare?

MENALCAS.

Begin you first; if either Alcon's Praise, Or dying Phillis have inspir'd your Lays:

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble. James Bertie, Earle of Abingdon, and Baron Norreys of Rycott Cheife Justice, and Justice in Eyre of all his Maj^ts.—Parcks Forests, and Chaces▪ on the South side of Trent: and L^d Lieutenant and Custos Rotulorum of the County of Oxon.

Past: 5: 1.

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Line 15

If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend,Line 15 Begin, and Tityrus your Flock shall tend.

MOPSUS.

Or shall I rather the sad Verse repeat, Which on the Beeches bark I lately writ: I writ, and sung betwixt; now bring the Swain Whose Voice you boast, and let him try the Strain.Line 20

MENALCAS.

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.

MOPSUS.

No more, but sit and hear the promis'd Lay,Line 25 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.Line 30 The wretched Parent, with a pious haste, Came running, and his lifeless Limbs embrac'd. She sigh'd, she sob'd, and, furious with despair, She rent her Garments, and she tore her Hair: Accufing all the Gods and every Star.Line 35 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,Line 40 They cast the sound to Lybia's desart Shore; The Lybian Lyons hear, and hearing roar. Fierce Tygers Daphnis taught the Yoke to bear; And first with curling Ivy dress'd the Spear: Line 45

Daphnis did Rites to Bacchus first ordain;Line 45 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 Splendor, so divine a Grace, The glorious Daphnis cast on his illustrious Race.Line 50 When envious Fate the Godlike Daphnis took, Our guardian Gods the Fields and Plains forsook: Pales no longer swell'd the teeming Grain, Nor Phoebus fed his Oxen on the Plain: No fruitful Crop the sickly Fields return;Line 55 But Oats and Darnel choak the rising Corn. And where the Vales with Violets once were crown'd, Now knotty Burrs and Thorns disgrace the Ground. Come, Shepherds, come, and strow with Leaves the Plain; Such Funeral Rites your Daphnis did ordain.Line 60 With Cypress 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 Fields Delight, the Shepherd's Love,Line 65 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.

MENALCAS.

Oh Heavenly Poet! such thy Verse appears, So sweet, so charming to my ravish'd Ears,Line 70 As to the weary Swain, with cares opprest, Beneath the Silvan Shade, refreshing Rest: As to the feavorish Travellor, when first He finds a Crystal Stream to quench his thirst. In singing, as in piping, you excell;Line 75 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;Line 80 For Daphnis was so good, to love what-e're was mine.

MOPSUS.

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.Line 85

MENALCAS.

Daphnis, the Guest of Heav'n, with wondring Eyes, Views in the Milky Way, the starry Skyes: And far beneath him, from the shining Sphere, Beholds the moving Clouds, and rolling Year. For this, with chearful Cries the Woods resound;Line 90 The Purple Spring arrays the various ground: The Nymphs and Shepherds dance; and Pan himself is Crown'd. The Wolf no longer prowls for nightly Spoils, Nor Birds the Sprindges fear, nor Stags the Toils: For Daphnis reigns above; and deals from thenceLine 95 His Mothers milder Beams, and peaceful Influence. The Mountain tops unshorn, the Rocks rejoice; The lowly Shrubs partake of Humane Voice. Assenting Nature, with a gracious nod, Proclaims him, and salutes the new-admitted God.Line 100 Be still propitious, ever good to thine: Behold four hallow'd Altars we design; And two to thee, and two to Phoebus rise; On each is offer'd Annual Sacrifice. The holy Priests, at each returning year,Line 105 Two Bowls of Milk, and two of Oil shall bear; And I my self the Guests with friendly Bowls will chear.

Two Goblets will I crown with sparkling Wine, The gen'rous Vintage of the Chian Vine; These will I pour to thee, and make the Nectar thine.Line 110 In Winter shall the Genial Feast be made Before the fire; by Summer in the shade. Damaetas shall perform the Rites Divine; And Lictian Aegon in the Song shall join. Alphesibaeus, tripping, shall advance;Line 115 And mimick Satyrs in his antick 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;Line 120 While Bees on Thime, and Locusts feed on Dew, Thy grateful Swains these Honours shall renew. Such Honours as we pay to Pow'rs Divine, To Bacchus and to Ceres, shall be thine. Such annual Honours shall be giv'n, and thouLine 125 Shalt hear, and shalt condemn thy Suppliants to their Vow.

MOPSUS.

What Present worth thy Verse can Mopsus find! Not the soft Whispers of the Southern Wind, That play through trembling Trees, delight me more; Nor murm'ring Billows on the sounding Shore;Line 130 Nor winding Streams that through the Valley glide; And the scarce cover'd Pebbles gently chide.

MENALCAS.

Receive you first this tuneful Pipe; the same That play'd my Coridon's unhappy Flame. The same that sung Neaera's conqu'ring Eyes;Line 135 And, had the Judge been just, had won the Prize.

MOPSUS.

Accept from me this Sheephook in exchange, The Handle Brass; the Knobs in equal range.

Antigenes, with Kisses, often try'd To beg this Present, in his Beauty's Pride;Line 140 When Youth and Love are hard to be deny'd. But what I cou'd refuse, to his Request, Is yours unask'd, for you deserve it best.

The Sixth Pastoral. OR, SILENUS.

The Argument.

Two young Shepherds Chromis and Mnasylus, having been often promis'd a Song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep in this Pastoral; where they bind him hand and foot, and then claim his Promise. Silenus finding they wou'd be put off no longer, be∣gins his Song; in which he describes the Formation of the Universe, and the Original of Animals, according to the Epicurean Philoso∣phy; and then runs through the most surprising Transformations which have happen'd in Nature since her Birth. This Pasto∣ral was design'd as a Complement to Syro the Epicurean, who in∣structed Virgil and Varus in the Principles of that Philosophy. Si∣lenus acts as Tutor, Chromis and Mnasylus as the two Pupils.

I First transferr'd to Rome Scicilian Strains: Nor blush'd the Dorick Muse to dwell on Mantuan Plains. But when I try'd her tender Voice, too young; And fighting Kings, and bloody Battels sung, Apollo check'd my Pride; and bade me feedLine 5 My fatning Flocks, nor dare beyond the Reed. Admonish'd thus, while every Pen prepares To write thy Praises, Varus, and thy Wars, My Past'ral Muse her humble Tribute brings; And yet not wholly uninspir'd she sings.Line 10 For all who read, and reading, not disdain These rural Poems, and their lowly Strain, The name of Varus oft inscrib'd shall see, In every Grove, and every vocal Tree; And all the Silvan reign shall sing of thee:Line 15

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble. Hugh Lord Viscount Cholmondely of Kelles in the Kingdom of Ireland and Baron of Wichmalbank in the Kingdom of England.

Past:6.

Thy name, to Phoebus and the Muses known, Shall in the front of every Page be shown; For he who sings thy Praise, secures his own. Proceed, my Muse: Two Satyrs, on the ground, Stretch'd at his Ease, their Syre Sylenus found.Line 20 Dos'd with his fumes, and heavy with his Load, They found him snoring in his dark abode; And seis'd with Youthful Arms the drunken God. His rosie Wreath was dropt not long before, Born by the tide of Wine, and floating on the floor.Line 25 His empty Can, with Ears half worn away, Was hung on high, to boast the triumph of the day. Invaded thus, for want of better bands, His Garland they unstring, and bind his hands: For by the fraudful God deluded long,Line 30 They now resolve to have their promis'd Song. Aegle came in, to make their Party good; The fairest Nais of the neighbouring Flood, And, while he stares around, with stupid Eyes, His Brows with Berries, and his Temples dyes.Line 35 He finds the Fraud, and, with a Smile, demands On what design the Boys had bound his hands. Loose me, he cry'd; 'twas Impudence to find A sleeping God, 'tis Sacriledge to bind. To you the promis'd Poem I will pay;Line 40 The Nymph shall be rewarded in her way. He rais'd his voice; and soon a num'rous throng Of tripping Satyrs crowded to the Song. And Sylvan Fauns, and Savage Beasts advanc'd, And nodding Forests to the Numbers danc'd.Line 45 Not by Haemonian Hills the Thracian Bard, Nor awful Phoebus was on Pindus heard, With deeper silence, or with more regard.

He sung the secret Seeds of Nature's Frame; How Seas, and Earth, and Air, and active Flame,Line 50 Fell through the mighty Void; and in their fall Were blindly gather'd in this goodly Ball. The tender Soil then stiffning by degrees, Shut from the bounded Earth, the bounding Seas. Then Earth and Ocean various Forms disclose;Line 55 And a new Sun to the new World arose. And Mists condens'd to Clouds obscure the Skie; And Clouds dissolv'd, the thirsty Ground supply. The rising Trees the lofty Mountains grace: The lofty Mountains feed the Savage Race.Line 60 From thence the birth of Man the Song pursu'd, And how the World was lost, and how renew'd. The Reign of Saturn, and the Golden Age; Prometheus Theft, and Jove's avenging Rage. The Cries of Argonauts for Hylas drown'd;Line 65 With whose repeated Name the Shoars resound. Then mourns the madness of the Cretan Queen; Happy for her if Herds had never been. What fury, wretched Woman, seiz'd thy Breast! The Maids of Argos (tho with rage possess'd,Line 70 Their imitated lowings fill'd the Grove) Yet shun'd the guilt of this prepost'rous Love. Nor sought the Youthful Husband of the Herd; Tho tender and untry'd the Yoke he fear'd. Tho soft and white as flakes of falling Snow;Line 75 And scarce his budding Horns had arm'd his brow. Ah, wretched Queen! you range the pathless Wood; While on a flowry Bank he chaws the Cud: Or sleeps in Shades, or thro' the Forest roves; And roars with anguish for his absent Loves.Line 80 Ye Nymphs, with toils, his Forest-walk surround; And trace his wandring Footsteps on the ground.

But, ah! perhaps my Passion he disdains; And courts the milky Mothers of the Plains. We search th'ungrateful Fugitive abroad;Line 85 While they at home sustain his happy load. He sung the Lover's fraud; the longing Maid, With golden Fruit, like all the Sex, betray'd. The Sisters mourning for their Brother's loss; Their Bodies hid in Barks, and furr'd with Moss.Line 90 How each a rising Alder now appears; And o're the Po distils her Gummy Tears. Then sung, how Gallus by a Muses hand, Was led and welcom'd to the sacred Strand. The Senate rising to salute their Guest;Line 95 And Linus thus their gratitude express'd. Receive this Present, by the Muses made; The Pipe on which th' Ascraean Pastor play'd: With which of old he charm'd the Savage Train: And call'd the Mountain Ashes to the Plain.Line 100 Sing thou on this, thy Phoebus; and the Wood Where once his Fane of Parian Marble stood. On this his ancient Oracles rehearse; And with new Numbers grace the God of Verse. Why shou'd I sing the double Scylla's Fate,Line 105 The first by Love transform'd, the last by Hate. A beauteous Maid above, but Magick Arts, With barking Dogs deform'd her neather parts. What Vengeance on the passing Fleet she pour'd, The Master frighted, and the Mates devour'd.Line 110 Then ravish'd Philomel the Song exprest; 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 Chymney tops her moan;Line 115 And hovers o're 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.Line 120 And now the setting Sun had warn'd the Swain To call his counted Cattle from the Plain: Yet still th' unweary'd Syre pursues the tuneful Strain. Till unperceiv'd the Heav'ns with Stars were hung: And sudden Night surpriz'd the yet unfinish'd Song.Line 125

The Seventh Pastoral. OR, MELIBOEUS.

The Argument.

Meliboeus here gives us the Relation of a sharp Poetical Contest between Thyrsis and Corydon; at which he himself and Daph∣nis were present; who both declar'd for Corydon.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble: Henry Lord Herbert Baron of Chirbury. &^c.

Past: 7.

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;Line 5 And Fortune thether 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 enquir'd; he, smiling, said, Dismiss your Fear, and pointed where he fed.Line 10 And, if no greater Cares disturb your Mind, Sit here with us, in covert of the Wind. Your lowing Heyfars, of their own accord, At wat'ring time will seek the neighb'ring Ford. Here wanton Mincius windes along the Meads,Line 15 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 shou'd I do! nor was Alcippe nigh, Nor absent Phillis cou'd my care supply,Line 20 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. Line 25

Alternate Rhime the ready Champions chose:Line 25 These Corydon rehears'd, and Thyrsis those.

CORYDON.

Yee Muses, ever fair, and ever young, Assist my Numbers, and inspire my Song. With all my Codrus O inspire my Breast, For Codrus after Phoebus sings the best.Line 30 Or if my Wishes have presum'd too high, And stretch'd their bounds beyond Mortality, The praise of artful Numbers I resign: And hang my Pipe upon the Sacred Pine.

THYRSIS.

Arcadian Swains, your Youthful Poet crownLine 35 With Ivy Wreaths; tho surly Codrus, frown. Or if he blast my Muse with envious Praise, Then fence my Brows with Amuletts of Bays. Lest his ill Arts or his malicious Tongue Shou'd poyson, or bewitch my growing Song.Line 40

CORYDON.

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 Pow'r divine, Thy Statue then of Parian Stone shall stand;Line 45 Thy Legs in Buskins with a Purple Band.

THYRSIS.

This Bowl of Milk, these Cakes, (our Country Fare,) For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare. Because a little Garden is thy care. But if the falling Lambs increase my Fold,Line 50 Thy Marble Statue shall be turn'd to Gold.

CORYDON.

Fair Galathea, with thy silver Feet, O, whiter than the Swan, and more than Hybla sweet;

Tall as a Poplar, taper as the Bole, Come charm thy Shepherd, and restore my Soul.Line 55 Come when my lated Sheep, at night return; And crown the silent Hours, and stop the rosy Morn.

THYRSIS.

May I become as abject in thy sight, As Sea-weed on the Shore, and black as Night: Rough as a Bur, deform'd like him who chawsLine 60 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.Line 65

CORYDON.

Ye mossy Springs, inviting easie 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.

THYRSIS.

With heapy Fires our chearful Hearth is crown'd;Line 70 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.

CORYDON.

Our Woods, with Juniper and Chesnuts crown'd, With falling Fruits and Berries paint the Ground;Line 75 And lavish Nature laughs, and strows her Stores around. But if Alexis from our Mountains fly, Ev'n running Rivers leave their Channels dry.

THYRSIS.

Parch'd are the Plains, and frying is the Field, Nor with'ring Vines their juicy Vintage yield.Line 80 But if returning Phillis bless the Plain, The Grass revives; the Woods are green again; And Jove descends in Show'rs of kindly Rain.

CORYDON.

The Poplar is by great Alcides worn: The Brows of Phoebus his own Bays adorn.Line 85 The branching Vine the jolly Bacchus loves; The Cyprian Queen delights in Mirtle Groves. With Hazle, Phillis crowns her flowing Hair, And while she loves that common Wreath to wear; Nor Bays, nor Myrtle Bows, with Hazle shall compare.Line 90

THYRSIS.

The towring Ash is fairest in the Woods; In Gardens Pines, and Poplars by the Floods: But if my Lycidas will ease my Pains, And often visit our forsaken Plains; To him the tow'ring Ash shall yield in Woods;Line 95 In Gardens Pines, and Poplars by the Floods.

MELIBOEUS.

I've heard: and, Thyrsis, you contend in vain: For Corydon, young Corydon shall reign, The Prince of Poets, on the Mantuan Plain.

The Eighth Pastoral. OR, PHARMACEUTRIA.

The Argument.

This Pastoral contains the Songs of Damon and Alphesiboeus. The first of 'em bewails the loss of his Mistress, and repines at the Success of his Rival Mopsus. The other repeats the Charms of some Enchantress, who endeavour'd by her Spells and Magic to make Daphnis in Love with her.

[illustration]

To the Rig^t Hon^ble: Charles Ld Clifford Baron of Lounsbrough in the County of York

past. 8

THE mournful Muse of two despairing Swains, The Love rejected, and the Lovers' pains; To which the salvage Linxes listning stood, The Rivers stood on heaps, and stop'd the running Flood, The hungry Herd their needful Food refuse;Line 5 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, Whither Timavus or th' Illirian Coast, Whatever Land or Sea thy presence boast;Line 10 Is there an hour in Fate reserv'd for me, To Sing thy Deeds in Numbers worthy thee? In numbers like to thine, cou'd I rehearse Thy lofty Tragick Scenes, thy labour'd Verse; The World another Sophocles in thee,Line 15 Another Homer shou'd behold in me: Amidst thy Laurels let this Ivy twine, Thine was my earlyest Muse; my latest shall be thine.

Scarce from our upper World the Shades withdrew; Scarce were the Flocks refresh'd with Morning Dew,Line 20

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.Line 25 While I my Nisa's perjur'd Faith deplore; Witness ye Pow'rs, by whom she falsly swore! The Gods, alas, are Witnesses in vain; Yet shall my dying Breath to Heav'n complain. Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strain.Line 30

The Pines of Maenalus, the vocal Grove, Are ever full of Verse, and full of Love: They hear the Hinds, they hear their God complain; Who suffer'd not the Reeds to rise in vain: Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strain.Line 35

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,Line 40 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 Maenalian Strain.Line 45

O, Nisa! Justly to thy Choice condemn'd, Whom hast thou taken, whom hast thou contemn'd! For him, thou hast refus'd my browzing Herd, Scorn'd my thick Eye-brows, and my shaggy Beard. Unhappy Damon sighs, and sings in vain:Line 50 While Nisa thinks no God regards a Lover's pain. Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian 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.Line 55 Then scarce the bending Branches I cou'd win; The callow Down began to cloath my Chin; I saw, I perish'd; yet indulg'd my Pain: Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strain.

I know thee, Love; in Desarts thou wert bred;Line 60 And at the Dugs of Salvage Tygers fed: Alien of Birth, Usurper of the Plains: Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strains.

Relentless Love the cruel Mother led, The Blood of her unhappy Babes to shed:Line 65 Love lent the Sword; the Mother struck the blow; Inhuman she; but more inhuman thou. Alien of Birth, Usurper of the Plains: Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strains.

Old doting Nature change thy Course anew:Line 70 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.Line 75 Hoarse Tity'rus 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 Maenalian Strain.

Let Earth be Sea; and let the whelming Tide,Line 08 The lifeless Limbs of luckless Damon hide:

Farewel, 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:Line 85 And cease, my silent Flute, the sweet Maenalian Strain.

Now take your Turns, ye Muses, to rehearse His Friend's Complaint; and mighty Magick Verse. Bring running Water; bind those Altars round With Fillets; and with Vervain strow the Ground:Line 90 Make fat with Frankincense the sacred Fires; To re-inflame my Daphnis with Desires. 'Tis done, we want but Verse. Restore, my Charms, My lingring Daphnis to my longing Arms.

Pale Phoebe, drawn by Verse from Heav'n descends:Line 95 And Circe chang'd with Charms Ulysses Friends. Verse breaks the Ground, and penetrates the Brake; And in the winding Cavern splits the Snake. Verse fires the frozen Veins: Restore, my Charms, My lingring Daphnis to my longing Arms.Line 100

Around his waxen Image, first I wind Three woollen Fillets, of three Colours join'd: Thrice bind about his thrice devoted head, Which round the sacred Altar thrice is led. Unequal Numbers please the Gods: my Charms,Line 105 Restore my Daphnis to my longing Arms.

Knit with three knots, the Fillets, knit 'em streight; And say, These Knots to Love I consecrate. Haste, Amaryllis, haste; restore, my Charms, My lovely Daphnis to my longing Arms.Line 110

As Fire this Figure hardens, made of Clay; And this of Wax with Fire consumes away; Such let the Soul of cruel Daphnis be; Hard to the rest of Women; soft to me. Crumble the sacred Mole of Salt and Corn,Line 115 Next in the Fire the Bays with Brimstone burn. And while it crackles in the Sulphur, say, This, I for Daphnis burn; thus Daphnis burn away. This Laurel is his Fate: Restore, my Charms, My lovely Daphnis to my longing Arms.Line 120

As when the raging Heyfar, through the Grove, Stung with Desire, pursues her wand'ring Love; Faint at the last, she seeks the weedy Pools, To quench her thirst, and on the Rushes rowls: Careless of Night, unmindful to return,Line 125 Such fruitless Fires perfidious Daphnis burn. While I so scorn his Love; Restore, my Charms, My lingring Daphnis to my longing Arms.

These Garments once were his; and left to me; The Pledges of his promis'd Loyalty:Line 130 Which underneath my Threshold I bestow; These Pawns, O sacred Earth! to me my Daphnis owe. As these were his, so mine is he; my Charms, Restore their lingring Lord to my deluded Arms.

These poys'nous Plants, for Magick use design'd,Line 135 (The noblest and the best of all the baneful Kind,) Old Moeris brought me from the Pontick Strand: And cull'd the Mischief of a bounteous Land. Smear'd with these pow'rful Juices, on the Plain, He howls a Wolf among the hungry Train:Line 140

And oft the mighty Negromancer boasts, With these, to call from Tombs the stalking Ghosts: And from the roots to tear the standing Corn; Which, whirld aloft, to distant Fields is born. Such is the strength of Spells; restore, my Charms,Line 145 My lingring Daphnis to my longing Arms.

Bear out these Ashes; cast 'em in the Brook; Cast backwards o're your head, nor turn your look: Since neither Gods, nor Godlike Verse can move, Break out ye smother'd Fires, and kindle smother'd Love.Line 150 Exert your utmost pow'r, my lingring Charms, And force my Daphnis to my longing Arms.

See, while my last endeavours I delay, The waking Ashes rise, and round our Altars play! Run to the Threshold, Amaryllis, hark,Line 155 Our Hylas opens, and begins to bark. Good Heav'n! may Lovers what they wish believe; Or dream their wishes, and those dreams deceive! No more, my Daphnis comes; no more, my Charms; He comes, he runs, he leaps to my desiring Arms.Line 160

The Ninth Pastoral. OR, LYCIDAS, and MOERIS.

The Argument.

When Virgil, by the Favour of Augustus, had recover'd his Patri∣mony near Mantua, and went in hope to take Possession, he was in danger to be slain by Arius the Centurion, to whom those Lands were assign'd by the Emperour, in reward of his Service against Brutus and Cassius. This Pastoral therefore is fill'd with complaints of his hard Usage; and the Persons introduc'd, are the Bayliff of Virgil, Moeris, and his Friend Lycidas.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^ble. Marquiss of Hartington the Duke of William Lord Eldest Son to His Grace the Duke of Devonshire.

Past: 〈…〉〈…〉

LYCIDAS.

HO Moeris! whether on thy way so fast? This leads to Town.

MOERIS.

O Lycidas, at last The Time is come I never thought to see, (Strange Revolution for my Farm and me)Line 5 When the grim Captain in a surly Tone Cries out, pack up ye Rascals, and be gone. Kick'd out, we set the best Face on't we cou'd, And these two Kids, t' appease his angry Mood, I bear, of which the Furies give him good.Line 10

LYCIDAS.

Your Country Friends were told another Tale; That from the sloaping Mountain to the Vale, And dodder'd Oak, and all the Banks along, Menalcas sav'd his Fortune with a Song.

MOERIS.

Such was the News, indeed, but Songs and RhymesLine 15 Prevail as much in these hard Iron Times,

As would a plump of trembling Fowl, that rise Against an Eagle sousing from the Skies. And had not Phoebus warn'd me by the croak Of an old Raven, from a hollow Oak,Line 20 To shun debate, Menalcas had been slain, And Moeris not surviv'd him, to complain.

LYCIDAS.

Now Heav'n defend! cou'd barb'rous Rage induce The Brutal Son of Mars, t' insult the sacred Muse! Who then shou'd sing the Nymphs, or who rehearseLine 25 The Waters gliding in a smoother Verse! Or Amaryllis praise, that Heav'nly Lay, That shorten'd as we went, our tedious Way. O Tity'rus, tend my Herd, and see them fed; To Morning Pastures, Evening Waters led:Line 30 And 'ware the Lybian Ridgils butting Head.

MOERIS.

Or what unfinish'd He to Varus read; Thy Name, O Varus (if the kinder Pow'rs Preserve our Plains, and shield the Mantuan Tow'rs, Obnoxious by Cremona's neighb'ring Crime,)Line 35 The Wings of Swans, and stronger pinion'd Rhyme, Shall raise aloft, and soaring bear above Th' immortal Gift of Gratitude to Jove.

LYCIDAS.

Sing on, sing on, for I can ne're be cloy'd, So may thy Swarms the baleful Eugh avoid:Line 40 So may thy Cows their burden'd Bags distend, And Trees to Goats their willing Branches bend. Mean as I am, yet have the Muses made Me free, a Member of the tuneful trade: At least the Shepherds seem to like my Lays,Line 45 But I discern their Flatt'ry from their Praise:

I nor to Cinna's Ears, nor Varus dare aspire; But gabble like a Goose, amidst the Swan-like Quire.

MOERIS.

'Tis what I have been conning in my Mind: Nor are they Verses of a Vulgar Kind.Line 50 Come, Galatea, come, the Seas forsake; What Pleasures can the Tides with their hoarse Murmurs make? See, on the Shore inhabits purple Spring; Where Nightingales their Love-sick Ditty fing; See, Meads with purling Streams, with Flow'rs the Ground,Line 55 The Grottoes cool, with shady Poplars crown'd, And creeping Vines on Arbours weav'd around. Come then, and leave the Waves tumultuous roar, Let the wild Surges vainly beat the Shore.

LYCIDAS.

Or that sweet Song I heard with such delight;Line 60 The same you sung alone one starry Night; The Tune I still retain, but not the Words.

MOERIS.

Why, Daphnis, dost thou search in old Records, To know the Seasons when the Stars arise? See Caesar's Lamp is lighted in the Skies:Line 65 The Star, whose Rays the blushing Grapes adorn, And swell the kindly ripening Ears of Corn. Under this influence, graft the tender Shoot; Thy Childrens Children shall enjoy the Fruit. The rest I have forgot, for Cares and TimeLine 70 Change all things, and untune my Soul to Rhime: I cou'd have once sung down a Summer's Sun, But now the Chime of Poetry is done. My Voice grows hoarse; I feel the Notes decay, As if the Wolves had seen me first to Day.Line 75 But these, and more than I to mind can bring, Menalcas has not yet forgott to sing.

LYCIDAS.

Thy faint Excuses but inflame me more; And now the Waves rowl silent to the Shore. Husht Winds the topmost Branches scarcely bend,Line 80 As if thy tuneful Song they did attend: Already we have half our way o'recome; Far off I can discern Bianor's Tomb; Here, where the Labourer's hands have form'd a Bow'r Of wreathing Trees, in Singing waste an Hour.Line 85 Rest here thy weary Limbs, thy Kids lay down, We've Day before us yet, to reach the Town: Or if e're Night the gath'ring Clouds we fear, A Song will help the beating Storm to bear. And that thou may'st not be too late abroad,Line 90 Sing, and I'll ease thy Shoulders of thy Load.

MOERIS.

Cease to request me, let us mind our way; Another Song requires another Day. When good Menalcas comes, if he rejoyce, And find a Friend at Court, I'll find a Voice.Line 95

The Tenth Pastoral. OR, GALLUS.

The Argument.

Gallus a great Patron of Virgil, and an excellent Poet, was very deep∣ly in Love with one Citheris, whom he calls Lycoris; and who had forsaken him for the Company of a Souldier. The Poet therefore supposes his Friend Gallus retir'd in his heighth of Melancholy into the Solitudes of Arcadia (the celebrated Scene of Pastorals;) where he represents him in a very languishing Condition with all the Rural De∣ities about him, pitying his hard Usage, and condoling his Misfortune.

[illustration]

To the Right Hon^••e. Charles Montague Esq^r: one of the Lords Comm^rs. of his Maj^ts. Treasury, Chancellor, and under Treasurer of his Maj^ts. Excheq^r. and one of his Maj^ts. Most Hon^ble. Privy Councill.

Past: 10.

THY sacred Succour, Arethusa, bring, To crown my Labour: 'tis the last I sing. Which proud Lycoris may with Pity view; The Muse is mournful, tho' the Numbers few. Refuse me not a Verse, to Grief and Gallus due.Line 5 So may thy Silver Streams beneath the Tide, Unmix'd with briny Seas, securely glide. Sing then, my Gallus, and his hopeless Vows; Sing, while my Cattle crop the tender Browze. The vocal Grove shall answer to the Sound,Line 10 And Echo, from the Vales, the tuneful Voice rebound. What Lawns or Woods withheld you from his Aid, Ye Nymphs, when Gallus was to Love betray'd; To Love, unpity'd by the cruel Maid? Not steepy Pindus cou'd retard your Course,Line 15 Nor cleft Parnassus, nor th' Aonian Source: Nothing that owns the Muses cou'd suspend Your Aid to Gallus, Gallus is their Friend. For him the lofty Laurel stands in Tears; And hung with humid Pearls the lowly Shrub appears.Line 20

Maenalian Pines the Godlike Swain bemoan; When spread beneath a Rock he sigh'd alone; And cold Lycaeus wept from every dropping Stone. The Sheep surround their Shepherd, as he lyes: Blush not, sweet Poet, nor the name despise:Line 25 Along the Streams his Flock Adonis fed; And yet the Queen of Beauty blest his Bed. The Swains and tardy Neat-herds came, and last Menalcas, wet with beating Winter Mast. Wond'ring, they ask'd from whence arose thy Flame;Line 30 Yet, more amaz'd, thy own Apollo came. Flush'd were his Cheeks, and glowing were his Eyes: Is she thy Care, is she thy Care, he cries? Thy false Lycoris flies thy Love and thee; And for thy Rival tempts the raging Sea,Line 35 The Forms of horrid War, and Heav'ns Inclemency. Sylvanus came: his Brows a Country Crown Of Fennel, and of nodding Lillies, drown. Great Pan arriv'd; and we beheld him too, His Cheeks and Temples of Vermilion Hue.Line 40 Why, Gallus, this immod'rate Grief, he cry'd: Think'st thou that Love with Tears is satisfi'd? The Meads are sooner drunk with Morning Dews; The Bees with flow'ry Shrubs, the Goats with Brouze. Unmov'd, and with dejected Eyes, he mourn'd:Line 45 He paus'd, and then these broken Words return'd. 'Tis past; and Pity gives me no Relief: But you, Arcadian Swains, shall sing my Grief: And on your Hills, my last Complaints renew; So sad a Song is onely worthy you.Line 50 How light wou'd lye the Turf upon my Breast, If you my Suff'rings in your Songs exprest? Ah! that your Birth and Bus'ness had been mine; To penn the Sheep, and press the swelling Vine! Line 55

Had Phyllis or Amyntas caus'd my Pain,Line 55 Or any Nymph, or Shepherd on the Plain, Tho Phyllis brown, tho black Amyntas were, Are Violets not sweet, because not fair? Beneath the Sallows, and the shady Vine, My Loves had mix'd their pliant Limbs with mine;Line 60 Phyllis with Myrtle Wreaths had crown'd my Hair, And soft Amyntas sung away my Care. Come, see what Pleasures in our Plains abound; The Woods, the Fountains, and the flow'ry ground. As you are beauteous, were you half so true,Line 65 Here cou'd I live, and love, and dye with only you. Now I to fighting Fields am sent afar, And strive in Winter Camps with toils of War; While you, (alas, that I shou'd find it so!) To shun my sight, your Native Soil forgo,Line 70 And climb the frozen Alps, and tread th' eternal Snow. Ye Frosts and Snows her tender Body spare, Those are not Limbs for Ysicles to tear. For me, the Wilds and Desarts are my Choice; The Muses, once my Care; my once harmonious Voice.Line 75 There will I sing, forsaken and alone, The Rocks and hollow Caves shall echo to my Moan. The Rind of ev'ry Plant her Name shall know; And as the Rind extends, the Love shall grow. Then on Arcadian Mountains will I chaseLine 80 (Mix'd with the Woodland Nymphs) the Salvage Race. Nor Cold shall hinder me, with Horns and Hounds, To thrid the Thickets, or to leap the Mounds. And now methinks o're steepy Rocks I go; And rush through sounding Woods, and bend the Parthian Bow:Line 85 As if with Sports my Sufferings I could ease, Or by my Pains the God of Love appease.

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My Frenzy changes, I delight no more On Mountain tops, to chace the tusky Boar; No Game but hopeless Love my thoughts pursue:Line 90 Once more ye Nymphs, and Songs, and sounding Woods adieu. Love alters not for us, his hard Decrees, Not tho beneath the Thracian Clime we freeze; Or Italy's indulgent Heav'n forgo; And in mid-Winter tread Scythonian Snow.Line 95 Or when the Barks of Elms are scorch'd, we keep On Meroes burning Plains the Lybian Sheep. In Hell, and Earth, and Seas, and Heav'n above, Love conquers all; and we must yield to Love. My Muses, here your sacred Raptures end:Line 100 The Verse was what I ow'd my suff'ring Friend. This while I sung, my Sorrows I deceiv'd, And bending Osiers into Baskets weav'd. The Song, because inspir'd by you, shall shine: And Gallus will approve, because 'tis mine.Line 105 Gallus, for whom my holy Flames renew, Each hour, and ev'ry moment rise in view: As Alders, in the Spring, their Boles extend; And heave so fiercely, that the Bark they rend. Now let us rise, for hoarseness oft invadesLine 110 The Singer's Voice, who sings beneath the Shades. From Juniper, unwholsom Dews distill, That blast the sooty Corn; the with'ring Herbage kill; Away, my Goats, away: for you have browz'd your fill.