University of Virginia Library

THE Birth-Night, A PASTORAL.

MENALCAS and AMARILLIS.
AMARILLIS.
Defensive Folds our Midnight Flocks inclose
On Woolly Beds our fleecy Lambs repose.
Our Lowing Herds in dozing Slumbers lye,
Their Couch the Grass, their Canopy the Skye.
The Lark, whose flight is Heav'n, and Earth his Nest,
From Lofty Toil is laid at Humble Rest.
Th'industrious Bee in thriftless Quiet dwells;
No murm'ring Swarms surround their waxy Cells.
No Rangers rob the Flow'rs t'inrich their Hive,
Nor from full Stores unactive Idlers drive.
Alike the lazy Drones and lab'ring Bees
Are lull'd in Sloth, and are dissolv'd in Ease.
Man's all compos'd, his Passions all serene;
No troubled Thought disturbs his setled Mien;
His careless Limbs in peaceful Rapture spread,
Like Death his Sleep, and like the Grave his Bed.

MENALCAS.
The glimm'ring Moon expands her Silver Beams
To paint the Meadows, and to gild the Streams:
She shines on tall Augusta's tow'ring Spires,
Whose pale Reflections shew like distant Fires:
Her partial Rays aspiring Monatains gild,
While prostrate Vales with dusky Gloom are fill'd.
She forms with softest Shade and smoothest Light
The pleasing Landskip of the lovely Night.
An awful Hush in solemn Grandeur reigns,
All calm the Skies, and all sedate the Plains;
Round the still World the noiseless Stars make haste:
O happy World! by circling Heav'n embrac't.

AMARILLIS.
But hark! the Nightingale begins her Moan;
She grieves, if Melody be Grief, alone.
A pointed Thorn awakes her Nightly Strains,
With Pain she sings, and with Delight complains,
‘Come, walk my Love, and as we move along,
‘Charm the pleas'd Pastures with a sweeter Song.
Come, my Menalcas, to yon River side:
Thro' spacious Groves her spread Meanders glide.
The Pine and Elm in ranges crown her Banks;
Those Sons of Earth invade the Sky in Ranks.
Her Glassy Surface shews th'adjoyning Wood,
And Heav'n surveys its Image in her Flood.
Come, let us trace the Maze thro' which she roves,
Wind round the Hills, and wander thro' the Groves.
With leisure pace, her flowry Margin tread
By twining Streams thro' wooddy Lab'rinths led;
‘And as she flows, and as we move along,
‘Teach me, lov'd Shepherd, some instructive Song.

MENALCAS.

AMARILLIS.
Tho' I forgot th'Occasion, yet I thought
Heav'n put not on such Ornaments for nought.
A Birth-night Garb rejoicing Nature wears;
New Flow'rs the Pastures, and new Stars the Spheres.
This Night the Spring, ambitious to be gay,
From gawdy Summer steals her best Array;
The Oaks their Leaves, the Vines their Grapes disclose:
Each Thorn a Berry, and each Brier a Rose.
‘The Spring, like Galatea, takes her Birth
‘At once to cherish, and to grace the Earth.
In Fields our Herds, and in their Folds our Sheep,
And in their Hives our Swarms their Revels keep.
The Nightingale no more her Rape bewails,
But sings glad Io's thro' the ravish'd Vales.
Her wakeful Joy needs no alarming Thorn;
This Night the Goddess of her Song was born.
‘Haste to the sports, and as we move along,
‘Sing the Great Monarch in a nobler Song.

MENALCAS.
Their gilded Heads Augustean Turrets raise,
And seem, like Rockets, as they rise to blaze.
No borrow'd Light to palefac'd Heav'n they owe:
Their Gates with Stars, their Streets with Comets glow.
With joyful Peals their stately Temples ring,
And in each Spire ten thousand Pleasures sing.
The warbling Sounds on hov'ring Pinions stretch,
But tire and languish e're these Plains they reach.
‘This solemn Night is spent in dutyous Mirth,
‘Blest Night, that gave great Galatea Birth!
‘No heavy Tax her free-born People grieves:
‘We pay her Tribute of the Joy she gives.

AMARILLIS.
But hark! the Satyrs o'er the Brambles prance,
The Shepherds pipe, and Shepherdesses dance.
Thro' sounding Woods dispersing Murmurs pant,
And call Menalcas, for 'tis him they want.
Come, my lov'd Swain, to sporting Herdsmen come,
All shall with Wonder and Respect be dumb.
Thy Tunes shall all their Faculties imploy
In silent Transport and attentive Joy.
All shall address their Homage to thy Art,
Each Youth his Laurel, and each Fair her Heart;
While smiling, I with haughty Pleasure see
The Nymphs admire a Swain reserv'd for me.
‘Haste, Love, and as we trace these Streams along,
‘Sing the best Monarch in the sweetest Song.
Thy Serenades shall echo thro' the Deep
Where snowy Nymphs on Chrystal Couches sleep.
Thy tempting Strains the wat'ry Pow'rs shall rouse
From Thrones of Coral, and from Beds of Owse.
The beaut'ous Naids deck'd in Pearly Shells,
Shall leave their Fountains, and forsake their Wells,
With naked Limbs to glide thro' yielding Weeds
In fond pursuit of thy alluring Reeds.
Thy Notes shall pierce the Thicket of the Boar,
And thorny Wilds where shaggy Satyrs snoar.
Tho' lustful Pan were bent in hottest Chace
Of some coy Goddess of the Sylvan Race.
Drawn by Resistless Pow'r of Magick Sound,
He after thee, she after him shall bound.
Both shall forget the cause of their Career,
The God his Passion, and the Nymph her Fear.
Each Savage shall approach to hear thee play,
Pow'rless to leave thee, tho' afraid to stay.
Each docile Bird upon his dwelling Tree
Shall court his Mate in Notes he learnt of thee.

MENALCAS.

AMARILLIS.
So well you paint, methinks I bear in sight
The order'd Onset and the scatter'd Flight.
I see each Wound, and I perceive each Stroke
By Fleaks of Lightning thro' the Clouds of Smoke.
Thy sweet Canores on dismal Themes forbear:
For tho' with pleasure, I with terror hear.
Sing Neptune's Courts where Ocean Gods reside,
And Tritons dance in triumph o'er the Tide:
‘Where summon'd Rivers from th'extended Earth
‘In joyful Conflux keep the Royal Birth.
The sev'ral Streams in diff'rent Songs relate
Their Tyrants Vices or their Monarchs State.
Let Gallia's Seine her Lords Oppressions tell,
His Rage the Po, his Rapines the Moselle.
While Ship-crown'd Thames informs the wondring Main
Of glorious Galatea's gentle Reign;
That subject Seas who willing Tribute pay,
May prize the more the Sov'reign they obey.
‘Or sing the Heav'ns where Kings who sway'd the Earth
‘In perfect Rapture keep their Offspring's Birth.
. . Or, sing the Seats, if thou canst raise thy Voice,
Where Galatea and her Nymphs rejoyce.

MENALCAS.