Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn; 30 “'T was thus, by the glare of false science betray'd, That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind, My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. 'O pity, great Father of light!' then I cried, 36 'Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee; Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride: From doubt and from darkness thou only canst free. “And darkness and doubt are now flying away; 41 The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn. See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending,45 And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom! On the cold cheek of Death smiles and roses are blending, And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb!" A PASTORAL BALLAD. IN FOUR PARTS. Arbusta humilesque myrica. I. ABSENCE. Ye shepherds! so cheerful and gay, BEATTIE. VIRGIL, With the torture of doubt and desire; What it is to admire and to love, 10 And to leave her we love and admire. Ah! lead forth my flock in the morn, And the damps of each evening repel : Alas! I am faint and forlorn : 15 I have bade my dear Phyllis farewell. Since Phyllis vouchsafed me a look, If I knew of a kid that was mine. I prized every hour that went by Beyond all that had pleased me before; But now they are past, and I sigh; And I grieve that I prized them no more. But why do I languish in vain; Why wander thus pensively here? O why did I come from the plain, They tell me my favourite maid, The pride of that valley, is flown; Alas! where with her I have stray'd, I could wander with pleasure alone. When forced the fair nymph to forgo, What anguish I felt at my heart! 20 25 30 Yet I thought, but it might not be so,— My path I could hardly discern; 35 Where my vows, my devotion, I owe, Soft Hope is the relic I bear, And my solace wherever I go. II. HOPE. My banks they are furnish'd with bees, 50 Not a pine in my grove is there seen, But with tendrils of woodbine is bound; Not a beech's more beautiful green, my fields in the prime of the year More charms than my cattle unfold; Not a brook that is limpid and clear, But it glitters with fishes of gold. 60 One would think she might like to retire But I hasted and planted it there. 65 70 From the plains, from the woodlands and groves, What strains of wild melody flow! From thickets of roses that blow! How the nightingales warble their loves 75 And when her bright form shall appear, In a concert so soft and so clear, As-she may not be fond to resign. 80 I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed: But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 't was a barbarous deed. For he ne'er could be true, she averr'd, Who would rob a poor bird of its young: And I loved her the more, when I heard Such tenderness fall from her tongue. I have heard her with sweetness unfold That it ever attended the bold, 85 90 Let her speak, and whatever she say, Can a bosom so gentle remain Unmoved, when her Corydon sighs ? Will a nymph that is fond of the plain, These plains and this valley despise ? Dear regions of silence and shade! Soft scenes of contentment and ease! Where I could have pleasingly stray'd, If aught, in her absence, could please. 95 100 But where does my Phyllida stray? 105 And where are her grots and her bowers? Are the groves and the valleys as gay, And the shepherds as gentle as ours? 110 The groves may perhaps be as fair, And the face of the valleys as fine, The swains may in manners compare, But their love is not equal to mine. III. SOLICITUDE. Why will you my passion reprove? love ? 115 She's fairer than you can believe. With her mien she enamours the brave; With her wit she engages the free; With her modesty pleases the grave; She is every way pleasing to me. you that have been of her train, 120 |