CXXII
THE NINTH PASTORAL
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The attribution of this poem is questionable.
Oh Lycidas! how are our Hopes deceiv'd?
Things are as once we cou'd not have believ'd;
All is my own, the rugged Souldier says,
Hence ancient Rustics! march with Speed your Ways.
Forc'd to submit, yet with a heavy Heart
(For Fate and Force change all things) we depart,
And these two Kids t' appease his furious Mood
Now send; and may they never do him Good.
Lycidas
I'm sure, I heard from where these Hills ascend,
And their mean Summits gently sloaping bend,
As far as thence the passing Eye can reach,
Ev'n to the Water and the broken Beach;
All your M[e]nalcas had secur'd from Wrong,
And safely guarded by his charming Song.
Mæris
'Twas so reported, but alas! what Charms
Have Verses Lycidas! for martial Arms?
Here all the Muses gentle Graces fail,
As Doves must fly when furious Hawks assail,
And had not from a hollow Holm, the Crow
On the left hand forewarn'd me to forego
All new Debates; not Mæris on this Plain
Had been, and our Menalcas had been slain.
Lycidas
How? cou'd in any so much Baseness be?
Were all our Comforts almost lost with thee?
Thou dear Menalcas! who the Nymphs shou'd sing?
Who strow the Ground with blooming Herbs, or bring
Delightful Shadows o'er the chrystal Spring?
What Verses lately did I slily view,
And softly read, as little heeding you
Near to my darling Amaryllis drew.
‘Oh Tityrus! going hence a little way,
‘Let not my Goats 'till my returning stray,
‘But feed them near this gentle River's brink,
‘When fed, then drive them to the Flood to drink,
‘And driving them along yourself take care,
‘And of the rough He-goat who Butts beware.
Mæris
Ay! or what he to Varus did repeat,
Which th[o'] imperfect I remember yet,
Varus! if Mantua keeps from Ruine clear;
‘(Mantua to sad Cremona, ah! too near)
‘The Swans sweet Voices shall declare thy Fame,
‘And to the Stars exalt thy glorious Name.
Lycidas
So may thy Bees from harmful Yews be freed,
So may thy Cows within the flow'ry Mead
Their Udders fill, and ever safely feed.
If thou hast ought begin, the Muse has shown,
Ev'n me some Favour, I some Verses own:
The Shepherds call me Poet, but I know
I merit not the Title they bestow;
Aim not at Varus, nor at Cinna's Ear,
But like a gabling Goose among the Swans appear.
Mæris
'Tis Lycidas! what now imploys my Mind,
And I am aiming secretly to find,
Which, if I can remember, I'll rehearse,
Nor is it worthless or ignoble Verse.
‘Haste hither Galatea! what Delight
‘Can in the raging Deep thy Stay invite?
‘Here blooms the purple Spring in all its Pride,
‘And sweetly by the curling River's side:
‘The bounteous Earth distributes various Flow'rs,
‘Here woven, compose delicious Bow'rs;
‘The Poplar too in lov'ly green array'd,
‘Yields to the Cave both Gracefulness and Shade.
‘Haste hither! let the Billows vainly roar,
‘And madly beat on the resounding Shoar.
Lycidas
Say what I heard you sing one Night alone,
The Tune I yet retain, the Words are flown.
Mæris
‘Daphnis! regard not any ancient Sign,
‘Lo! Cæsar's Star do's now proceeding shine;
‘This shall to Corn and Fruits Perfection give,
‘And make the luscious Grape its purple Hue receive.
‘Now Daphnis! on thy Fruits employ thy Care,
‘Thy Childrens Children shall the Blessing share.
Time conqu'ring all things do's our Minds destroy,
I well remember when I was a Boy,
My Voice at my Command wou'd sweetly run,
And oft sing down a lingring Summers Sun;
Now I forget, my Voice, as it has been,
Is nothing too, Wolves first have Mæris seen;
But all these things, and more than I forget
Menalcas to thee often will repeat.
Lycidas
You by Excuse, but my Desire increase,
And lo! to thee, now Ocean's Murmurs cease,
And ev'ry Wind is gently hush'd to Peace.
We're now half Way, for lo! before our Eyes,
Bianor's Sepulchre begins to rise.
Let's sit and sing in this refreshing Shade,
That with green Boughs the lab'ring Hinds have made,
Let us, I prithee, rest a while, lay down
Thy Kids, we'll yet be time enough at Town;
Or if you fear e'er Night the coming Rain,
Let's go together singing o'er the Plain,
'Twill seem by far more short and easy Way,
As thus we spend the time, and that we may
Go thus together singing on the Road,
I'll lend my help to ease thee of thy Load.
Mæris
Cease now my Boy! and our Affair let's Mind
When e'er he comes, plenty of Songs we'll find.
