University of Virginia Library

A PASTORAL,

To a young Lady upon her leaving, and return to, the Country.

Damon.
Say, while each Scene so beautiful appears,
Why heaves thy Bosom, and why flow thy Tears?
See! from the Clouds the Spring descends in Show'rs,
The painted Vallies laugh with rising Flowers:
Smooth flow the Floods, soft breathe the vernal Airs,
The Spring, Flow'rs, Floods, conspire to charm our Cares.

Florus.
But vain the Pleasure which the Season yields,
The laughing Vallies, or the painted Fields.
No more, ye Floods, in silver Mazes flow,
Smile not, ye Flow'rs, no more soft Breezes blow;
Far, Damon, far from these unhappy Groves,
The cruel, lovely Rosalinda roves.

Damon.
Ah! now I know why late the opening Buds
Clos'd up their Gems, and sicken'd in the Woods;
Why droop'd the Lilly in her snowy Pride,
And why the Rose withdrew her Sweets, and dy'd;
For thee, fair Rosalind, the opening Buds
Clos'd up their Gems, and sicken'd in the Woods;
For thee the Lilly shed her snowy Pride,
For thee the Rose withdrew her Sweets, and dy'd.

Florus.
See! where yon' Vine in soft Embraces weaves
Her wanton Ringlets with the Myrtle's Leaves,
There tun'd sweet Philomel her sprightly Lay,
Both to the rising and the falling Day;
But since fair Rosalind forsook the Plains,
Sweet Philomel no more renews her Strains;
With Sorrow dumb, she disregards her Lay,
Nor greets the rising nor the falling Day.

Damon.
Say, O! ye Winds, that range the distant Skies,
Now swell'd to Tempests by my rising Sighs;
Say, while my Rosalind deserts these Shores,
How Damon dies for whom his Soul adores.

Florus.
Ye murm'ring Fountains, and ye wand'ring Floods,
That visit various Lands thro' various Roads;
Say, when ye find where Rosalind resides,
Say, how my Tears increase your swelling Tides.

Damon.
Tell me, I charge you, O! ye Sylvan Swains,
Who range the mazy Grove, or flow'ry Plains,
Beside what Fountain, in what breezy Bow'r,
Reclines my Charmer in the noon-tide Hour!

Florus.
Soft, I adjure you, by the skipping Fawns,
By the fleet Roes, that bound along the Lawns;
Soft tread, ye Virgin Daughters of the Grove,
Nor with your Dances wake my sleeping Love!

Damon.
Return, O! Virgin, and if proud Disdain
Arm thy fierce Soul, return, enjoy my Pain;
If pleas'd thou view'st a faithful Lover's Cares,
Thick rise, ye Sighs; in Floods descend, ye Tears!

Florus.
Return, O! Virgin! while in verdant Meads
By Springs we sport, or dream on flow'ry Beds;
She weary wanders thro' the desart Way,
The Food of Wolves, or hungry Lions Prey.

Damon.
Ah! shield her, Heav'n! your Rage, ye Beasts, forbear!
Those are not Limbs for Savages to tear!
Adieu, ye Meads! with her thro' Wilds I go
O'er burning Sands, or everlasting Snow;
With her I wander thro' the desart Way,
The Food of Wolves, or hungry Lions Prey.

Florus.
Come, Rosalind, before the wint'ry Clouds
Frown o'er th'aërial Vault, and rush in Floods;
E'er raging Storms howl o'er the frozen Plains;
Thy Charms may suffer by the Storms or Rains.

Damon.
Come, Rosalind, O come! then infant Flow'rs
Shall bloom and smile, and form their Charms by yours;
By you, the Lilly shall her White compose,
Your Blush shall add new Blushes to the Rose;
Each flow'ry Mead, and ev'ry Tree shall bud,
And fuller Honours cloath the youthful Wood.

Florus.
Yet, ah! forbear to urge thy homeward Way,
While sultry Suns infest the glowing Day:
The sultry Suns thy Beauties may impair—
Yet haste away! for thou art now too fair.

Damon.
Hark! from yon' Bow'r what Airs soft warbled play!
My Soul takes wing to meet th'enchanting Lay:
Silence, ye Nightingales! attend the Voice!
While thus it warbles, all your Songs are Noise.

Florus.
See! from the Bow'r a Form majestic moves,
And smoothly gliding shines along the Groves;
Say, comes a Goddess from the golden Spheres?
A Goddess comes, or Rosalind appears!

Damon.
Shine forth, thou Sun, bright Ruler of the Day,
And where she treads, ye Flow'rs, adorn the Way!
Rejoice, ye Groves, my Heart dismiss thy Cares!
My Goddess comes, my Rosalind appears.