« ForrigeFortsett »
Begin, my pipe, begin the gladfome lay;
A kiss from Delia shall thy music pay ;
A kiss obtain'd 'twixt struggling and confent,
Giv'n with forc'd anger, and disguis'd content :
No laureat wreaths I ask to bind my brows,
Such as the Muse on lofty bards bestows ;
Let other swains to praise or fame aspire :
I from her lips my recompence require.
Hark how the bees with murmurs fill the plain,
While every flow'r of every sweet they drain ;
See, how beneath yon hillock's fhady steep,
The shelter'd herds on flow'ry couches sleep:
Nor bees, nor heris, are half so bleft as I,
If with my fond desires my Love comply:
From Delia's lips a sweeter honey flows,
And on her bosom dwells more soft repose.
Ah how, my dear, shall I deserve thy charms ?
What gift can bribe thee to my longing arms?
A bird for thee in filken bands I hold,
Whose yellow plumage shines like polith'd gold ;
From diftant isles the lovely stranger came,
And bears the Fortunate Canaries name ;
In all our woods none boasts fo sweet a note,
Not ev’n the nightingale's melodious throat.
Accept of this; and could I add beside
What wealth the rich Peruvian mountains hide ;
If all the gems in Eastern rocks were mine,
On thee alone their glitering pride should shine.
But if thy mind no gifts have pow'r to move,
Phoebus himself shall leave th’ Aonian grove;
The tuneful Nine, who never sue in vain,
Shall come sweet suppliants for their fav’rite swain.
For him each blue-ey'd Naiad of the flood,
For him each green-hair'd fifter of the wood,
Whom oft beneath fair Cynthia's gentle ray
His mufic calls to dance the night away.
And you, fair nymphs, companions of my Love,
With whom she joys the cowslip meads to rove,
I beg you recommend my faithful flame,
And let her often hear her shepherd's name ;
Shade all my faults from her enquiring fight,
And Mew my merits in the fairest light;
My pipe your kind assistance fhall repay,
friend shall claim a diff'rent lay.
But see! in yonder glade the heav'nly fair
Enjoys the fragrance of the breezy air-
Ah, thịther let me fly with
Adieu, my pipe, I go my Love to meet-
may I find her as we parted last,
each future hour be like the past ! So fhall the whiteft lamb these pastures feed, Propitious Venus, on thy altars bleed.
HE gods, O WALPOLE, give no bliss fincere:
Wealth is disturb’d by care, and pow'r by fear.
Of all the passions that employ the mind,
In gentle love the sweetest joys we find;
Yet e'en those joys dire Jealousy molests,
And blackens each fair image in our breasts.
may the warmth of thy too tender heart
Ne’er feel the sharpness of his venom'd dart;
For thy own quiet think thy mistress juft,
And wisely take thy happiness on truft.
Begin my Muse, and Damon's woes rehearle,
In wildest numbers and disorder'd verse.
On a romantic mountain's airy head
(While browzing goats at ease around him fed)
Anxious he lay, with jealous cares oppress’d;
Distrust and anger lab'ring in his breast
The vale beneath a pleasing prospect yields,
Of verdant meads and cultivated fields ;
Through these a river rolls its winding flood,
Adorn'd with various tufts of rising wood;
Here half conceal'd in trees a cottage stands,
A castle there the op'ning plain commands,
Beyond, a town with glitt'ring spires is crown'd,
And distant hills the wide horizon bound :
So charming was the scene, awhile the swain
Beheld delighted, and forgot his pain; .
But foon the stings infix'd within his heart,
With cruel force renew'd their raging smart :
His flow'ry wreath, which long with pride he wore,
The gift of Delia, from his brows he tore :
Then cry'd ; May all thy charms, ungrateful maid,
Like these neglected roses droop and fade ;
May angry Heav'n deform each guilty grace,
That triumphs now in that deluding face;
Those alter'd looks may every shepherd fly,
And ev'n thy Daphnis hate thee worse than I.
Say thou inconstant, what has Damon done,
To lose the heart his tedious pains had won ?
Tell me what charms
Against whose power no ties have strength to bind:
Has he, like me, with long obedience strove
To conquer your disdain, and merit love?
Has he with transport every smile ador'd,
And dy'd with grief at cach ungentle word?
Ah, no! the conqueft was obtain'd with ease :
He pleas’d you, by not studying to please :
His careless indolence your pride alarm'd ;
And had he lov’d you more, he less had charm'd.
O pain to think, another shall possess Those balmy lips which I was wont to press : Another on her panting breast shall lie, And catch sweet madness from her swimming eye! I saw their friendly flocks together feed, I saw them hand in hand walk o'er the mead ; Would my clos'd eyes bad funk in endless night, Ere I was doom'd to bear that hatefal fight! Where'er they pass'd be blasted every flow'r, And hungry wolves their helpless Aocks devour! Ah wretched swain ! could no examples move Thy heedless heart to fhun the rage of Love? Hast thou not heard how
how poor * Menalcas dy'd A victim to Parthenia's fatal pride ? Dear was the youth to all the tuneful plain, Lov'd by the nymphs, by Phæbus lov'd in vain : Around his tomb their tears the Muses paid, And all things mourn'd but the relentless maid. Would I could die like him, and be at peace, These torments in the quiet grave would cease ; There my vex'd thoughts a calm repose would find, And rest as if
Delia still were kind. No, let me live her falfhood to upbraid; Some god perhaps my juft revenge will aid. Alas! what aid, fond swain, wouldst thou receive ? Could thy heart bear to see its Delia grieve ?