With fure return fhe fought the fylvan scene,
The breezy mountains, and the forefts green.
Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band!
Each bore a crook, all-rural, in her hand:
Some fimple lay, of flocks and herds, they fung;
With joy the mountain and the forest rung.

"Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas moy'd,
And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
And oft the royal lover left the care
And thorns of ftate, attendant on the fair;
Oft to the fhades and low-roof'd cots retir'd,
Or fought the vale where first his heart was fir'd;
A ruffet mantle, like a fwain, he wore,
And thought of crowns and bufy courts no more.
"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
Bleft was the life that royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love, and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel ;
The fimple fhepherd girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Perfia's jewell'd throne
Be fam'd for love, and gentleft love alone;
Or wreathe, like Abbas, full of fair renown,
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
O happy days! the maids around her fay ;
O hafte, profufe of bleffings, hafte away !

"Be ev'ry youth, like royal Abbas, mov'd; And every Georgian maid, like Abra, lov'd!"

་།

ECLOGUE IV.

AGIB AND SECANDER:

O R,

THE FUGITIVES.

SCENE, A MOUNTAIN IN CIRCASSIA.

TIME, MIDNIGHT.

N fair Circaffia, where, to love inclin❜d,

Each fwain was blefs'd, for ev'ry maid was kind;
At that ftill hour when awful midnight reigns,
And none, but wretches, haunt the twilight plains;
What time the moon had hung her lamp on high,
And paft, in radiance, thro' the cloudless sky;
Sad o'er the dews two brother fhepherds fled,
Where wildering fear and desperate forrow led:
Faft as they prefs'd their flight, behind them lay
Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies stole away.
Along the mountain's bending fides they ran,
Till faint and weak Secander thus began:

SECANDER.

O ftay thee, Agib, for my feet deny,

No longer friendly to my life, to fly.

Friend

Friend of my heart, Oturn thee, and survey,
Trace our fad flight, thro' all its length of way!
And, first, review that long-extended plain,
And yon wide groves, already paft with pain!
Yon ragged cliff, whofe dangerous path we try'd!
And, laft, this lofty mountain's weary fide!

AGI B.

Weak as thou art, yet, hapless, must thou know The toils of flight, or fome severer woe!

Still as I hafte the Tartar fhouts behind,

And fhrieks and forrows load the faddening wind:
In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand,
He blafts our harvests, and deforms our land.
Yon citron grove, whence first in fear we came,
Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame:
Far fly the fwains, like us, in deep despair,
And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care..

SECANDER.

Unhappy land, whose bleffings tempt the sword, In vain, unheard, thou call'ft thy Perfian lord! In vain thou court'ft him, helpless, to thine aid, To fhield the fhepherd, and protect the maid! Far off, in thoughtlefs indolence refign'd, Soft dreams of love and pleasure foothe his mind: 'Midft fair fultanas loft in idle joy;

No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.

AGI B.

Yet these green hills, in fummer's fultry heat, Have lent the monarch, oft, a cool retreat. Sweet to the fight is Zabran's flowery plain, And once by maids and shepherds lov'd in vain! No more the virgins fhall delight to rove By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's fhady grove; On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale, Or breathe the fweets of Aly's flowery vale: Fair scenes! but, ah! no more with peace poffeft, With ease alluring, and with plenty blest. No more the fhepherds' whitening tents appear, Nor the kind products of a bounteous year; No more the date with fnowy blossoms crown'd! But Ruin spreads her baleful fires around.

SECANDER.

In vain Circaffia boasts her spicy groves, For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves: In vain she boafts her fairest of the fair,

Their eye's blue languish, and their golden hair! Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must fend; Thofe hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.

AGI B.

Ye Georgian fwains, that, piteous, learn from far Circaffia's ruin, and the waste of war ;

fair:

Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs prepare,
To fhield your harvests, and defend your
The Turk and Tartar like defigns pursue,

Fix'd to destroy, and stedfast to undo.

Wild as his land, in native deserts bred,
By luft incited, or by malice led,

The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,

Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the way; Yet none fo cruel as the Tartar foe,

To death inur'd, and nurst in scenes of woe.

He faid, when loud along the vale was heard A fhriller fhriek, and nearer fires appear'd: The frighted fhepherds, thro' the dews of night, Wide o'er the moonlight hills renew'd their flight

THE