The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley Collected and Edited from the Old Editions: With a preface on the text, explanatory and textual notes, an appendix containing works of doubtful authenticity, and a bibliography: By V. de Sola Pinto |
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| CXXIII. | CXXIII THE TENTH PASTORAL |
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 | The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley |  |
CXXIII
THE TENTH PASTORAL
Oh Arethusa! this my last Work aid,
Some Verses for my Gallus must be made,
Some Verses for my Gallus must be made,
And what Lycoris may herself peruse,
Who for the sake of Gallus can refuse
His proper Right, the Tribute of a Muse?
Who for the sake of Gallus can refuse
His proper Right, the Tribute of a Muse?
So may thy Stream beneath Sicania's Sea,
In everlasting Ease and Safety be,
Nor Doris mix her briny Waves with thee.
In everlasting Ease and Safety be,
Nor Doris mix her briny Waves with thee.
Then let's begin, and while my Goats (my Care)
Securely feed; oh! Gallus! We'll declare
Thy anxious Love, we sing not quite in vain,
The Groves shall answer to the mournful Strain.
Securely feed; oh! Gallus! We'll declare
Thy anxious Love, we sing not quite in vain,
The Groves shall answer to the mournful Strain.
188
Ye wat'ry Nymphs! what Woods or Mountains strove
To check your Help, when Gallus thus did prove
The fatal Victim of unworthy Love?
Parnassus never had your Course withstood!
Nor Pindus high! nor Aganippe's Flood!
Ev'n from the Laurels trickling Tears distill'd,
And flowing Grief the Shrubs and Bushes fill'd,
Pine-bearing Menalus Compassion felt,
And Stones of cold Lycæus seem'd to melt,
As stretch'd beneath a lonely Rock he lay,
The straggling Sheep around their Master stray.
To check your Help, when Gallus thus did prove
The fatal Victim of unworthy Love?
Parnassus never had your Course withstood!
Nor Pindus high! nor Aganippe's Flood!
Ev'n from the Laurels trickling Tears distill'd,
And flowing Grief the Shrubs and Bushes fill'd,
Pine-bearing Menalus Compassion felt,
And Stones of cold Lycæus seem'd to melt,
As stretch'd beneath a lonely Rock he lay,
The straggling Sheep around their Master stray.
Oh Bard divine! think it not shame to keep,
Like us on humble Plains the fleecy Sheep,
His snowy Flocks the fair Adonis fed,
And unrepining to the River led.
Like us on humble Plains the fleecy Sheep,
His snowy Flocks the fair Adonis fed,
And unrepining to the River led.
Upilio and the Neat-herds thither drew,
And smear'd with Winter-Mast Menalcas too,
All shew'd Concern, and whence arose thy Flame,
With Pity ask'd, to thee Apollo came.
Gallus! what Madness fills thy Mind, (he cries)
Thy false Lycoris with another flies
To distant Realms, and unrelenting go's
Thro' horrid Wars and everlasting Snows!
Sylvanus came, and on his Head was fixt
A Fennel Wreath, with quiv'ring Lillies mixt.
Pan came Arcadia's God, (by us descry'd)
His Cheeks and Temples were with Crimson dy'd,
Says he, what measure can in Love be shown?
Not Love as yet has any Measure known!
Fierce Love to flowing Grief no Bounds allows,
As Goats are ne'er suffic'd with verdant Boughs!
As Bees are ne'er suffic'd with Store of Flow'rs,
Or rising Grass with Streams or frequent Show'rs.
And smear'd with Winter-Mast Menalcas too,
All shew'd Concern, and whence arose thy Flame,
With Pity ask'd, to thee Apollo came.
Gallus! what Madness fills thy Mind, (he cries)
Thy false Lycoris with another flies
To distant Realms, and unrelenting go's
Thro' horrid Wars and everlasting Snows!
Sylvanus came, and on his Head was fixt
A Fennel Wreath, with quiv'ring Lillies mixt.
Pan came Arcadia's God, (by us descry'd)
His Cheeks and Temples were with Crimson dy'd,
Says he, what measure can in Love be shown?
Not Love as yet has any Measure known!
Fierce Love to flowing Grief no Bounds allows,
As Goats are ne'er suffic'd with verdant Boughs!
As Bees are ne'er suffic'd with Store of Flow'rs,
Or rising Grass with Streams or frequent Show'rs.
He mourning, thus reply'd, Arcadian Swains,
Record my Fate in your melodious Strains,
This let your Hills resound, your Songs alone
Are fit to make the Dying's Sorrow known!
How wou'd my Bones enjoy more perfect rest,
If by your Pipes my Passion was express'd?
And oh! that Fate had me like you decreed
To dress the Vines, or bleating Flocks to feed;
That I had been on the delightful Plain,
A chearful Shepherd of your tuneful Train:
To Phillis, or Amyntas made my Court,
Or any other of the rural sort,
Tho' brown or black, they yet might yield Delight,
Not Violets, nor Berries please the Sight!
Among the Sallows and the Vines we'd lay'd
Our careless Limbs, and innocently play'd;
Phillis had crown'd my Head with Wreaths of Flow'rs,
With pleasing Songs Amyntas bless'd the Hours.
Record my Fate in your melodious Strains,
This let your Hills resound, your Songs alone
Are fit to make the Dying's Sorrow known!
How wou'd my Bones enjoy more perfect rest,
If by your Pipes my Passion was express'd?
And oh! that Fate had me like you decreed
To dress the Vines, or bleating Flocks to feed;
That I had been on the delightful Plain,
A chearful Shepherd of your tuneful Train:
To Phillis, or Amyntas made my Court,
189
Tho' brown or black, they yet might yield Delight,
Not Violets, nor Berries please the Sight!
Among the Sallows and the Vines we'd lay'd
Our careless Limbs, and innocently play'd;
Phillis had crown'd my Head with Wreaths of Flow'rs,
With pleasing Songs Amyntas bless'd the Hours.
By these cool Fountains! in these shady Groves!
(The proper joyful Scene of mutual Loves)
In these soft Meadows so profusely gay!
With thee Lycoris! cou'd I chuse to stay,
And well-delighted pass an Age away!
(The proper joyful Scene of mutual Loves)
In these soft Meadows so profusely gay!
With thee Lycoris! cou'd I chuse to stay,
And well-delighted pass an Age away!
Now frantic Love keeps me in horrid Arms,
Expos'd to War's fierce Rage and hostile Harms,
While most unkindly and perversly you
(Nor am I willing to believe it true)
Over the lofty Alps perpetual Snow
To Rhenus's Coasts and dreary Regions go,
Ye bleaky Winds! your wonted Rigour spare;
Ah! hurt not, vex not the too vent'rous Fair,
And thou sharp Ice! her tender Limbs forbear.
Expos'd to War's fierce Rage and hostile Harms,
While most unkindly and perversly you
(Nor am I willing to believe it true)
Over the lofty Alps perpetual Snow
To Rhenus's Coasts and dreary Regions go,
Ye bleaky Winds! your wonted Rigour spare;
Ah! hurt not, vex not the too vent'rous Fair,
And thou sharp Ice! her tender Limbs forbear.
I'll go, and with Sicilian Pipe rehearse
My once compos'd, yet long-neglected Verse,
Amidst the Dens of savage Beasts I'll be,
And carve my Flame on ev'ry tender Tree,
The lonely Wilds my hopeless Love shall know,
And as the Trees increase, the Love shall grow.
My once compos'd, yet long-neglected Verse,
Amidst the Dens of savage Beasts I'll be,
And carve my Flame on ev'ry tender Tree,
The lonely Wilds my hopeless Love shall know,
And as the Trees increase, the Love shall grow.
Then Menalus, I'll tred with eager Pace,
And mixing with the Nymphs, pursue the Chace,
Or hunt wild Boars, nor sharpest Colds shall stay
My steps, as 'round Parthenian Hills I stray.
And mixing with the Nymphs, pursue the Chace,
Or hunt wild Boars, nor sharpest Colds shall stay
My steps, as 'round Parthenian Hills I stray.
And now, methinks, with op'ning Hounds I fly
Thro' sounding Woods that echo to their Cry;
Over Cydonia's Plains and Mountains go,
Rush thro' the Brakes, and bend the Parthian Bow,
As if such Toils cou'd cure my painful Mind,
Or any chosen Way the Means cou'd find,
Oh rigid Pow'rs of Love! to calm thy Rage,
Or human Ills thy Fierceness cou'd asswage.
Thro' sounding Woods that echo to their Cry;
Over Cydonia's Plains and Mountains go,
Rush thro' the Brakes, and bend the Parthian Bow,
As if such Toils cou'd cure my painful Mind,
Or any chosen Way the Means cou'd find,
Oh rigid Pow'rs of Love! to calm thy Rage,
Or human Ills thy Fierceness cou'd asswage.
And now my Thoughts (averse to all of these,)
Not Nymphs, nor Woods, nor charming Strains can please:
The cruel God our Labours cannot change,
Not tho' o'er Thrac[i]a's bleaky Realms we range,
To Heber's frozen Waters shiv'ring go,
In depth of Winter press Sithonia's Snow,
Or when the Sun do's to the Scales incline,
Drive our scorch'd Flocks beneath the Tropic Line.
Not Nymphs, nor Woods, nor charming Strains can please:
190
Not tho' o'er Thrac[i]a's bleaky Realms we range,
To Heber's frozen Waters shiv'ring go,
In depth of Winter press Sithonia's Snow,
Or when the Sun do's to the Scales incline,
Drive our scorch'd Flocks beneath the Tropic Line.
The World is with his Pow'r and Presence fill'd,
Love conquers all, and we to love must yield!
Here cease ye sacred Muses! nor prolong
Beyond due Limits the devoted Song,
These mournful Verses, shall to Gallus prove
A grateful Token of my zealous Love,
My Love to Gallus! that do's hourly show
Increasing Force as springing Alders grow.
Love conquers all, and we to love must yield!
Here cease ye sacred Muses! nor prolong
Beyond due Limits the devoted Song,
These mournful Verses, shall to Gallus prove
A grateful Token of my zealous Love,
My Love to Gallus! that do's hourly show
Increasing Force as springing Alders grow.
Now let's arise! for often by the Shade,
The Singer's Voice is hoarse or feeble made;
The Shades of Junipers unwholsome are,
Shades hurt the Fruits, 'tis Ev'ning[,] leave your Fare,
Ye fill'd She-goats, and to your home repair.
The Singer's Voice is hoarse or feeble made;
The Shades of Junipers unwholsome are,
Shades hurt the Fruits, 'tis Ev'ning[,] leave your Fare,
Ye fill'd She-goats, and to your home repair.
| The poetical and dramatic works of Sir Charles Sedley | |