University of Virginia Library

AMARYLLIS.

A PASTORAL.

It was the fate of an unhappy Swain
To love a Nymph, the glory of the plain;
In vain he daily did his courtship move,
The Nymph was haughty, and disdain'd to love.
Each morn as soon as the Sun's golden ray
Dispers'd the clouds, and chaced dark night away,
The sad despairing Shepherd rear'd his head
From off his pillow, and forsook his bed.
Strait he search'd out some melancholy shade,
Where he did blame the proud disdainful Maid,
And thus with cruelty did her upbraid:
Ah! Shepherdess will you then let me dye;
Will nothing thaw this frozen cruelty:
But you, lest you should pity, will not hear,
You will not to my suff'rings give ear;
But adder-like to listen you refuse
To words, the greatest charm that man can use.
'Tis now noon-day, the Sun is mounted high,
Beneath refreshing shades the beasts do lie,
And seek out cooling rivers to asswage,
The Lion's sultry heat, and Dog-Star's rage:
The Oxen now can't plow the fruitful soil,
The furious heat forbids the reaper's toil.
Both beast and men for work are now unfit,
The weary'd Hinds down to their dinner sit;
Each creature now is with refreshment blest,
And none but wretched I, debarr'd of rest,
I wander up and down thro' desart lands,
On sun-burnt mountain-tops, and parched sands.
And as alone, restless I go along,
Nothing but eccho answers to my Song.
Had I not better undergo the scorn
Of Jenny? is it not more easy borne?
The cruelty of angry Kate? altho'
That She is black, and you as white as snow.
O! Nymph don't, too much, to your beauty trust,
The brightest steel is eaten up with rust:
The whitest blossoms fall, sweet roses fade,
And you, tho' handsom, yet may dye a maid.
With Thee I could admire a country life,
Free from disturbance, city noise, or strife:
Amongst the shady groves and woods we'd walk,
Of nothing else but love's great charms we'd talk,
We would pursue, in season, rural sports,
And then let knaves and fools resort to courts;
I could, besides, some country-presents find,
Could they persuade you, but to be more kind:
But since with scorn you do those gifts despise,
Another Shepherdess shall gain the prize.
O! Amaryllis, beauteous Maid, observe,
The Nymphs themselves are willing Thee to serve,
See where large baskets full of flowers they bring,
The sweet fair product of th' indulgent spring.
See there the Pink, and the Anemony,
The purple Violet, Rose, and Jessamy.
See where they humbly lay their presents down,
To make a chaplet thy dear head to crown.
See where the beasts go trooping drove by drove,
See how they answer one another's love:
See where the Bull the Heifer does pursue,
See where the Mare the furious Horse does woo:
Each Female to her Male is always kind,
And Women, only cruel Women blind,
Contradict that for which they were design'd.
So Corydon loves an ungrateful Fair,
Who minds not oaths, nor cares for any prayer.
But see the Sun his race has almost run,
And the laborious Ox his work has done.
But I still love without the thought of ease,
No cure was ever found for that disease,
But Corydon, what frenzy does thee [seize].
Why dost thou lie in this dejected way?
Why doest thou let thy Sheep and Oxen stray?
Thy tuneful Pipe, why dost Thou throw away.
Had not you better dispossess your mind
Of Her who is so cruel and unkind;
Forget Her guile, and calm those raging cares,
Take heart again, and follow your affairs,
For what altho' this Nymph does cruel prove,
You'll find a thousand other Maids will love.