 | Between Doubting and Daring |  |
25
Two Pastorals
I. A LAGGARD IN LOVE.
High noon was aflame on the hills far and wide,
When leaned on his crook stood a shepherd who sighed:
‘Now woe worth the day, see how Phyllida fares
Up yonder green slope that no fierce sunbeam spares.
When leaned on his crook stood a shepherd who sighed:
‘Now woe worth the day, see how Phyllida fares
Up yonder green slope that no fierce sunbeam spares.
‘Ah! would that my shepherdess tended her sheep
Low down in the vale under boughs close and deep;
For fain would I walk where the cool shadow lies,
Yet fain would I look into Phyllida's eyes.’
Low down in the vale under boughs close and deep;
For fain would I walk where the cool shadow lies,
Yet fain would I look into Phyllida's eyes.’
Thus plained the vexed shepherd, whom sorrow betid,
For his flock roved afield while his fortune he chid;
So needs must he follow, and at night's sill they strayed
Where Phyllida laughed with his friend in the shade.
For his flock roved afield while his fortune he chid;
So needs must he follow, and at night's sill they strayed
Where Phyllida laughed with his friend in the shade.
26
II. OVER-HASTY.
Low down in the vale he was leading his flock,
Where sleepeth blue shadow beneath the cold rock,
When off up the hill rang a call fluted high,
Till echoes around him grew rife far and nigh:
‘Haste thee, shepherd, haste hither!’
Where sleepeth blue shadow beneath the cold rock,
When off up the hill rang a call fluted high,
Till echoes around him grew rife far and nigh:
‘Haste thee, shepherd, haste hither!’
He gazed up amain, up the slope smooth and steep,
Nor marked on its green the white fleeces acreep,
For there, beam in sunbeam, stood she who had cried,
Young Sylvia the fair, and ere echo's note died
His fain heart had leaped thither.
Nor marked on its green the white fleeces acreep,
For there, beam in sunbeam, stood she who had cried,
Young Sylvia the fair, and ere echo's note died
His fain heart had leaped thither.
Yet mute while he hung on those cadences clear,
A voice fast beside him fell harsh on his ear;
'Twas Damon who answered, 'twas Damon she sought,
So hope newly culled drooped and dwindled to nought,
As a crushed weed might wither.
A voice fast beside him fell harsh on his ear;
'Twas Damon who answered, 'twas Damon she sought,
So hope newly culled drooped and dwindled to nought,
As a crushed weed might wither.
| Between Doubting and Daring | |