University of Virginia Library

PASTORAL the Seventh. Meliboeus.

Meliboeus, Corydon, Thyrsis.
Meliboeus.
By chance beneath the Covert of an Oak,
That whisper'd with the Breezes, Daphnis sate;
And Corydon, and Thyrsis to one Place
Together drew their Flocks; Thyrsis, his Sheep;
His milch Goats, Corydon; Arcadians Both,
Both flourishing in Youth, well pair'd to sing,
And ready with Each other's Skill to vie.
Here my He-Goat, the Father of my Flock,
Himself stray'd from me, while a Fence I made
To guard my tender Myrtles from the Cold.
Daphnis I saw; and soon as He saw Me,
Come hither, Melibœus, strait He cry'd;
Thy Goat, and Kids are safe; If aught Thou hast
Of Leisure, rest a-while beneath This Shade.
Hither thy Bullocks thro' the Meads will come
To Wat'ring; Mincius here with trembling Reeds
Clothes the green Banks, and from a sacred Oak
The clustring Bees with pleasing Murmur sound.
What should I do? Nor Phyllis was at home,
Nor yet Alcippe, to shut up my Lambs
New-wean'd: Yet since a mighty Match in Song
'Twixt Corydon, and Thyrsis was propos'd;
Their Play to my own Bus'ness I preferr'd:
Then in alternate Verse They both began;
The Muses dictated alternate Verse:
These Corydon recited, Thyrsis Those.

Corydon.
Ye Nymps, Libethrian Nymphs, my dear Delight;
Or give me, like my Codrus, Verse to sing;
(He sings the next to Phœbus:) Or if That
We cannot All obtain; my tuneful Reed
Shall here hang useless on This sacred Pine.

Thyrsis.
Ye Swains, with Ivy crown your rising Bard;
That Codrus' Spleen may burst with envious Spight:
Or if he load Him with immod'rate Praise,
With Baccar bind his Brows; lest That ill Tongue
Should hurt the future Poet's growing Fame.

Corydon.
This bristly Boar's huge Head, These branching Horns
Of the long-living Stag young Mycon vows,
Delia, to Thee: If such Success be Mine
Perpetual; in smooth Marble Thou shalt stand,
Full Length, Thy Legs with purple Buskins bound.

Thyrsis.
Suffice it Thee, Priapus, to expect
Each Year a Pail of Milk, and Cakes like These:
A small penurious Garden is Thy Care.
In Marble, for the present, Thou must stand;
But if the teeming Ewes with Lambs recruit
My Flock now lessen'd; Thou shalt shine in Gold.

Corydon.
Sweet Galatea, Nymph to Me more sweet
Than Hybla's Thyme, than Swans more white, more fair
Than the pale Ivy; Come, if aught Thou love
Thy Corydon, soon as the well-fed Steers
Shall from the Pastures to their Stalls return.

Thyrsis.
And may I, beauteous Maid, to Thee appear
More bitter than Sardinian poys'nous Herbs,
More rough than Gorse, more vile than with'ring Weeds:
If This Day be not longer than a Year
To Me: Go home, fed Bullocks, go for Shame.

Corydon.
Ye mossy Founts, and Grass more soft than Sleep,
With the green Arbutus, whose thin-spred Boughs
O'ershade you; from the Solstice' burning Heat
Defend the Flocks: Now scorching Summer comes,
And in the fruitful Tendrils swells the Gems.

Thyrsis.
Here glows the Hearth, here pitchy Pines, and Fire
Abound; Here black with Soot the Lintels smoke.
Here Boreas' Cold we just as much regard,
As Wolves the Sheep, or torrent Streams the Shore.

Corydon.
Here Junipers, and husky Chesnuts grow;
Beneath each Tree it's Apples strew the Ground:
Tho' all things smile; if fair Alexis leave
These Hills, You'll see the very Rivers dry.

Thyrsis.
Scorch'd are the Fields; The Herbage dies with Thirst.
Beneath the vicious Air: Illib'ral grown
Bacchus denies the Hills his viny Shades:
Yet when my Phyllis comes; each Lawn shall smile,
And plenteous Jove in fertile Show'rs descend.

Corydon.
To Hercules the Poplar is most dear;
The Vine to Bacchus; To the Cyprian Dame
The Myrtle; To Apollo his own Bay:
Phyllis the Hazles loves; While Them She loves,
Them nought excels the Myrtle, or the Bay.

Thyrsis.
In Groves the Beech, in Gardens is the Pine
Most beautiful; The Poplar near the Streams;
On the high Mountains' Tops the stately Fir:
Yet, lovely Lycidas, if oft Thou come
To visit me; Thou, beauteous, shalt excel
The Pine in Gardens, and the Beech in Groves.

Meliboeus.
This I remember; and that quite outsung
Thyrsis in vain contended: From That Time
'Tis Corydon, 'tis Corydon for Me.