Poems on Several Occasions With Imitations from Horace, Ovid, Martial, Theocritus, Bachylides, Anacreon, &c. To which is prefix'd A Discourse on Criticism, and the Liberty of Writing. In a letter to a Friend. By Samuel Cobb ... The Third Edition. To which is added, Poems on the Duke of Marlborough, Prince Eugene, the Electoral Prince of Hannover, with other Poems. Never before Printed |
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
But ah! when Heav'n such mighty Blessing pours
On Man, they fall and dy, like hasty Showers.
For lo! not far a Shepherd in Despair
Appears, with haggard Looks, and matted Hair,
Sad signs of sorrow, and of wondrous Care.
Thyrsis, the Name of that unhappy Swain,
The Herdsmen follow'd, a lamenting Train.
Soon as young Melan hears their doleful Tale,
His Colour fades, his sinking Spirits fail.
Then on the Ground his wretched Corpse he cast,
Fell, like a Pine, rent by some Northern Blast.
His folded hands uplifted to the Skies,
While scalding Rivers gutter'd from his Eyes,
Thus he began; O no, ye Powers above,
No more be fam'd for Gentleness and Love;
You, who so mild and merciful appear,
On that sad Morn why were you so severe?
Like some rude Hands, more cruel and unkind
To springing Roses, than the Sun or Wind.
The rising Greatness you refuse to spare,
And crop that Vertue which no Storm can tear.
On Man, they fall and dy, like hasty Showers.
For lo! not far a Shepherd in Despair
Appears, with haggard Looks, and matted Hair,
Sad signs of sorrow, and of wondrous Care.
Thyrsis, the Name of that unhappy Swain,
The Herdsmen follow'd, a lamenting Train.
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His Colour fades, his sinking Spirits fail.
Then on the Ground his wretched Corpse he cast,
Fell, like a Pine, rent by some Northern Blast.
His folded hands uplifted to the Skies,
While scalding Rivers gutter'd from his Eyes,
Thus he began; O no, ye Powers above,
No more be fam'd for Gentleness and Love;
You, who so mild and merciful appear,
On that sad Morn why were you so severe?
Like some rude Hands, more cruel and unkind
To springing Roses, than the Sun or Wind.
The rising Greatness you refuse to spare,
And crop that Vertue which no Storm can tear.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |