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While labouring oxen, spent with toil and heat,
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay!
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain !
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay;
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strains ! I'll fly from shepherds, flocks, and flowery plains. From shepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forsake mankind, and all the world but love; I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred; Wolves gave thee suck, and savage tigers fed: Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn, sot by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born.
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Farewell, ye woods ; adieu, the light of day; One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains. No more, ye hills, no more resound my strains. Thus
sang the shepherds till the approach of night The skies yet blushing with departed light,
When falling dews with spangles deck the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd every shade.
THE FOURTH PASTORAL; OR, DAPHNE To the Memory of Mrs. Tempest
THYRSIS. Ye gentle muses, leave your chrystal spring, Let nymphs and sylvans cypress garlands bring : Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide And break your bows as włcn Adonis died ;
And with your golden darts, now useless grown,
'Tis done, and Nature's various charms decay:
For her the flocks refuse their verdant food; The thirsty heifers shun the gliding flood: The silver swans her hapless fate bemoan, In notes more sad than when they sing their own: In hollow caves sweet Echo silent lies, Silent, or only to her name replies: Her name with pleasure once she taught the shore: Now Daphne's dead, and pleasure is no more!
No grateful dews descend from evening skies, Nor morning odours from the flowers arise; No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field, Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield. The balmy Zephyrs, silent since her death, Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath ; The industrious bees neglect their golden store: Fair Daphne's dead, and sweetness is no more !
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sing Shall, listening in mid air, suspend their wings; No more the birds shall imitate her lays, Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays : No more the streams their murmurs shall forbcar, A sweeter music than their own to hear; But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore, Fair Daphne's dead, and music is no more!
Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, And told in sighs to all the trembling trees ;
The trembling trees, in every plain and wood,
But see! where Daphne wondering mounts on high
Lycidas. How all things listen, while thy muse complains! Such silence waits on Philomela's strains, In some still evening, when the whispering breeze Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees. To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb shall bleed, If teeming ewes increase my fleecy breed. While plants their shade, or flowers their odours give, Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise, shall live!
THYRSIS. But see! Orion sheds unwholesome dews; Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse; Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay; Time conquers all, and we must Time obey. Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams, and groves; Adieu, ye shepherd's rural lays and loves; Adieu, my flocks; farewell, ye sylvan crew : Daphne, fa ewell! and all the world, adieu !
MESSIAH. A sacred Eclogue in Imitation of Virgil's Pollio.
ADVERTISEMENT. n reading several passages of the prophet Isaiah, which foretell the coming of Christ, and the felicities attend. ing it, I could not but observe a remarkable parity be tween many of the thoughts, and those in the Pollio of Virgil. This will not seem surprising when we re. flect, that the eclogue was taken from a Sibylline pro. phecy on the same subject. One may judge that Virgil did not copy it lin for line; but selected such ideas as best agreed with the nature of pastoral poetry, and disposed them in that manner which served most to beautify his piece. I have endeavoured the same in this imitation of him, though without admitting any thing of my own; since it was written with this par. ticular view, that the reader by comparing the several thoughts, might see how far the images and descriptious
of the prophet are superior to those of the poet.
Rapt into future times, the bard begun :
(1) Isa. xi. ver 1. (2) Ch. xlv. ver. 8. (3) Ch. IIV