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Now fleeping flocks on their soft fleeces lie, 5
The moon, serene in glory, mounts the sky,
While filent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Oh fing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praise !

Behold the groves that shine with silver frost,
Their beauty wither’d, and their verdure lost.
Here shall I try the sweet Alexis strain,

That calld the list’ning Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving song.

So may kind rains their vital moisture yield, 15
And swell the future harvest of the field.
Begin ; this charge the dying Daphne gave,
And said, “ Ye shepherds, fing around my grave !"
Sing, while beside the shaded tomb I mourn,
And with fresh bays her rural shrine adorn.

20 TH YRS I S. Ye gentle Muses, leave your crystal spring, Let Nymphs and Sylvans cypress garlands bring;


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being on the same subject with mine on Mrs. Tem“ pest's death, I should take it very kindly in you to give

it a little turn as if it were to the memory of the fame “ lady." Her death having happened on the night of the great storm in 1703, gave a propriety to this eclogue, which in its general turn alludes to it. The scene of the Pastoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight. P.

Ver. 13. Thames heard, etc.)

Audiit Eurotas, jupirque ediscere lauros. Virg. P. Ye weeping Loves, the stream with myrtles hide, And break your bows, as when Adonis dy'd; And with your golden darts, now useless grown, Inscribe a verse on this relenting stone:

26 " Let nature change, let heav'n and earth deplore, « Fair Daphne's dead, and love is now no more!

'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay, See gloomy clouds obscure the chearful day! 30 Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear, Their faded honours scatter'd on her bier. See, where on earth the flow'ry glories lie, With her they flourish’d, and with her they dic. Ah what avail the beauties nature wore ?

35 Fair Daphne's dead, and beauty is no more!

For her the flocks refuse their verdant food,
The thirsty heifers fhun the gliding flood.
The filver swans her hapless fate bemoan,
In notes more sad than when they sing their own
In hollow caves sweet Echo filent 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 ev'ning skies, Nor morning odours from the flow’rs arise; 46

No !

Ver. 29. Originally thus in the MS.

*Tis done, and nature's chang'd since you are gone;
Behold the clouds have put their Mourning on.

VER. 23, 24, 25.

Inducite fontibus umbras
Et tumulum fucite, et tumulo juperaddit carmen. P.
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
Nor fragrant herbs their native incense yield.
The balmy Zephyrs, filent since her death,
Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath ; 50
Th' industrious bees neglect their golden store !
Fair Daphne’s dead, and sweetness is no more!

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall list’ning in mid air suspend their wings;
No more the birds shall imitate her lays, 55
Or hush'd with wonder, hearken from the sprays :
No more the streams their murmurs shall forbear,
A sweeter music than their own to hear,
But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal shore,
Fair Daphne's dead, and mufic is no more! 60

Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, And told in fighs to all the trembling trees; The trembling trees, in ev'ry plain and wood, Her fate remurmur to the silver flood; The filver flood, so lately calm, appears 65 Swell’d with new passion, and o’erflows with tears; The winds and trees and floods her death deplore, Daphne, our grief ! our glory now no more!

But see! where Daphne wond'ring mounts on high Above the clouds, above the starry sky ! 70 Eternal beauties grace the shining scene, Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green ! There while you reft in Amaranthine bow'rs, Or from those meads select unfading flow'rs,


Ver. 67, 70.

miratur limen Olympi,
Sub pedibusque videt nubes et fydera Daphnis. Virg. P.

Behold us kindly, who your name implore, 75 Daphne, our Goddess, and our grief no more!

L Y CID A S. How all things listen, while thy Muse complains ! Such filence waits on Philomela's strains, In some ftill ev'ning, when the whisp’ring breeze Pants on the leaves, and dies upon

the trees.

To thee, bright goddess, oft a lamb shall bleed,
If teeming ewes encrease my fleecy breed.
While plants their shade, or flow'rs their odours give,
Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise shall live!

But see, Orion sheds unwholfome dews,
Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse
Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay,
Time conquers all, and we must Time obey.



VER. 83. Originally thus in the MS.

While Vapours rise, and driving snows descend,
Thy honour, name, and praise Thall never end.

VER. 81,

illius ar an
Sæpe tener noftris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus. Virg. P.
Ver. 86. folet effe gravis cantantibus umbra,

Juniperi gravis umbra, Virg. P.
VER. 88. Time conquers all, etc,

Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori,
Vid. etiam Sannazarii Ecl. et Spencer's Calendar,


Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, streams and groves,
Adieu, ye shepherd's rural lays and loves ; 90
Adieu, my flocks, farewell ye fylvan crew,
Daphne, farewell, and all the world adieu.

Ver. 89, etc.] These four last lines allude to the several subjects of the four Pastorals, and to the several scenes of them, particularized before in each. P.

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