Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
 |
|
|
The Young Fowler that mistook his Game.
|
 | Lyric Poems |  |
121
The Young Fowler that mistook his Game.
An Idyllium of BION.
A brisk Young Archer that had scarce his Trade,In search of Game, alone his Progress made
To a Near Wood, and as he there did rove,
Spy'd in a Box-Tree perch'd, the God of Love:
For Joy, did he his lucky Stars adore,
Ne'er having seen so large a Bird before;
Then in due Order all his Lime-twigs set,
Prepar'd his Arrows, and display'd his Net;
Yet would the Crafty Bird no Aim allow,
But flew from Tree to Tree, and Bough to Bough;
At which his strange Success, for Grief he cry'd,
In Anger throwing Bow, and Toyls aside:
And to the Man that taught him, ran in Hast,
To whom he gave Account of all that past,
Making him leave his Plow, to come, and see,
And shew'd him Cupid sitting in the Tree.
122
Leave off, Fond Boy, leave off, he smiling sed;
Hast from this Dang'rous Fowl, that from you flies,
And follow other Game, let me advise.
For when to riper Age, you shall attain,
This Bird that shuns you now, you'll find again;
Then use your Skill, 'twill all your Art abide;
Sit on your Shoulders, and in Triumph ride.
| Lyric Poems | |