Occasional Poems Translations, Fables, Tales, &c. By William Somervile |
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Upon Miranda's leaving the Country.
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Upon Miranda's leaving the Country.
1
The Sun departing hides his Head,The Lilly, and the Rose are dead,
The Birds forget to sing;
The cooing Turtles now no more
Repeat their am'rous Ditties o'er,
But watch th' approaching Spring.
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2
For soon the merry Month of MayRestores the bright all-chearing Ray;
Soft Notes charm ev'ry Grove:
The Flow'rs ambrosial Incense breathe,
And all above, and all beneath,
Is Fragrance, Joy, and Love.
3
So when Miranda hence retires,Each Shepherd only not expires:
How rueful is the Scene!
How the dull Moments creep along!
No sportive Dance, no rural Song,
No Gambols on the Green.
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4
Yet, when the radiant Nymph appears,Each Field its richest Liv'ry wears,
All Nature's blithe and gay;
The Swains transported with Delight,
After a long and gloomy Night,
Bless the reviving Day.
5
While thus, indulgent to our Pray'rKind Heav'n permitted us to share
A Blessing so Divine;
While smiling Hope gave some Relief,
And Joys alternate sooth'd our Grief,
What Shepherd cou'd repine?
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6
But now—her fatal Loss we mourn,Never, oh! never to return
To these deserted Plains;
Undone, abandon'd to Despair,
Alas! 'tis Winter all the Year
To us unhappy Swains.
7
Ye little Loves lament around,With empty Quivers strew the Ground,
Your Bows unbent lay down;
Harmless your Wounds, pointless your Darts,
And frail your Empire o'er our Hearts,
'Till she your Triumphs crown.
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8
Ye Nymphs, ye Fawns, complaining sigh;Ye Graces, let your Tresses fly,
The Sport of ev'ry Wind:
Ye mimick Ecchoes tell the Woods,
Repeat it to the murm'ring Floods,
She's gone! she's gone! unkind!
9
Break, Shepherds, break each tuneless Reed,Let all your Flocks at random feed,
Each flow'ry Garland tear;
Since Wit, and Beauty, quit the Plain,
Past Pleasures but enhance our Pain,
And Life's not worth our Care.
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