A Collection of Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Two youthful Swains, in silvan Shades retir'd,
Both Friendship warm'd, and both the Muse inspir'd,
Long Time had Damon, Strephon's absence born,
As long had Strephon languish'd to return:
Both lately met, their Friendship they rehearse,
In rural Song, and in alternate Verse.

To thee, dear TYZACK I repeat their Lays,
More fond of thy Esteem, than publick Praise.

When Friendship is the Theme that I pursue,
The Theme and Song are both to TYZACK due;
And if this Verse he judges not in vain,
Then all the Bays are mine, I seek to gain.

Damon.
What Joy, what Pleasure now revives to me!
Since I once more have found (dear Strephon!) thee;
In ev'ry Shade a new Delight appears,
And ev'ry flow'ry Field new Beauties wears;
Fresh dawns of Life my ravish'd Bosom knows,
While all Things a new Heav'n of Joy disclose.

Strephon.
How much was I, to leave the Country, crost!
I daily languish'd for the Plains I lost;
Yet ev'n the Plains no Pleasure give to me,
Except I tend the bleating Flocks with thee:
But ev'ry Place has Charms, if Damon's there,
And Joy and Pleasure bloom thro' all the Year.

Damon.
What Shepherd knows not that I love to play
On various Reeds, and waste in Songs the Day?

For while with thee, no Summer-day was known,
But Musick welcom'd and adieu'd the Sun.
But since from thee in lonely Fields I stray'd,
No Songs were sung, nor rural Pipes were play'd.

Strephon.
Oft have I sat, and listen'd to thy Song,
Nor thought I once, the pleasing Time was long;
As oft the Musick of thy Pipe has held
Me charm'd, unable to forsake the Field;
But since I knew no blithsome Damon near,
No Song has pleas'd, nor Pipe has charm'd mine Ear.

Damon.
A hill there is, to ev'ry Shepherd known,
Where Trees arise, and Streams fall purling down;
'Twas all Delight and Pleasure, while with thee,
I trac'd its flowery Banks from Tree to Tree;
But since you left me, stript of all, it seems;
Nor Trees Delight, nor please, the purling Streams.

Strephon.
Oft, as I walk'd the Town, and cast mine Eyes
Where proud Augusta's glitt'ring Turrets rise;

I sigh'd, and softly said, I'd rather see
An homely Cottage, or a shady Tree,
Than all the Pomp, Augusta's Turrets wear,
They're all a Torment, Damon is not here.

Damon.
How rich the Feast did seem, nay more than seem
When Strawb'rries roll'd in plentious Cups of Cream.
What merry Hours each Winter Ev'ning blest,
When Nuts were crack'd, with many a witty Jest!
Depriv'd of Strephon, I'm depriv'd of these,
Nor Nuts, nor witty Jests, nor Berries please.

Strephon.
In Stalls, when I have seen the Basket bear
The Russet-Apple, or the Gold-Knop-Pear:
My Thoughts have then recall'd, how oft with you,
I found these grateful in the Place they grew;
But since with Damon I was blest no more,
I tasted these, but found them mean and sour.

Damon.
And wilt thou take the Shepherd's Crook again,
And tend on Flocks, and leave no more the Plain?

If so, let surly Hylas boast to keep,
Of Goats, four hundred, and a thousand Sheep:
I envy not the Wealth, his Pastures bear,
But blest with Strephon, I am happier far.

Strephon.
Believe me, Damon, I will leave no more,
These Fields, so known, so lov'd by me before,
Bright golden Days of Joy, devolve again,
And Scenes of long Delight, if Life remain;
Since I once more have found these Shades and you,
I gladly bid the busy World adieu.

Damon.
Then shall these Hills again repeat my Lays,
And Rocks give back the Tune, as Damon plays.
Bright Summer Suns shall chear my Heart again,
And Harvests bless me with their ripen'd Grain
Forlorn, from Strephon, these no more can please,
But bless'd with him, I then enjoy all these.

Strephon.
Begin then Damon, raise the tuneful Strain,
And call the Mountain-Shepherds to the Plain;

The Plain shall with the grateful Notes rejoice,
And Woods repeat, and Mountains join the Voice,
The Voice this welcome News to Swains shall bring,
'Tis Damon's Song, and Strephon hears him sing.