« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
And first review that long extended plain,
Weak as thou art, yet, hapless, must thou know The toils of flight, or some severer woe! Still, as I haste, the Tartar shouts behind, And shrieks and sorrows load the saddening wind : In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand, He blasts 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 swains, like us, in deep despair, And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care.
Unhappy land, whose blessings tempt the sword, In vain, unheard, thou call'st thy Persian lord ! In vain thou court'st him, helpless, to thine aid, To shield the shepherd, and protect the maid ! Far off, in thoughtless indolence resign'd, Soft dreams of love and pleasure soothe his mind : ’Midst fair sultanas lost in idle joy, No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.
Yet these green hills, in summer's sultry heat, Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat.
Sweet to the sight is Zabran's flowery plain,
In vain Circassia boasts her spicy groves, For ever famed for pure and happy loves : In vain she boasts her fairest of the fair, Their eyes' blue languish, and their golden hair ! Those
eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send ; Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.
AGIB. Ye Georgian swains, that piteous learn from far Circassia's ruin, and the waste of war; Some weightier arms than crooks and staves prepare, To shield your harvests, and defend your fair :
VARIATIONS. Ver. 49. No more the shepherds' whitening seats appear,
51. No more the dale, with snowy blossoms crown'd!
The Turk and Tartar like designs pursue,
He said ; when loud along the vale was heard A shriller shriek, and nearer fires appear’d: The affrighted shepherds, through the dews of night, Wide o'er the moonlight hills renew'd their flight.
END OF THE ECLOGUES.
ON SEVERAL DESCRIPTIVE AND
Πινδαρ. Ολυμπ. θ.