University of Virginia Library

THE HOME-SICK SHEPHERD.

A PASTORAL.

Young Shepherd.
WIND and Rain, your fury hot
Makes the tall Larch round me bow;
Wind and Rain, I heed you not,
I am hastening homeward now.

Old Shepherd.
Stranger, from the driving storm,
To my friendly cot repair;
With a British welcome warm,
Rest and food await thee there.

Young Shepherd.
I have travell'd wide and long
Through gloomy skies and lonely ways;
And a sickness, deep and strong,
Now upon my spirit preys.

Old Shepherd.
Poor youth! thy sorrows, half, I share,
I'll call the Doctress, old and grey;
With her simples, cull'd with care,
She shall chase thy pains away.

Young Shepherd.
Nothing here can ease my ailing,
Forest simples will not heal;
Know the cause of my complaining,
'Tis Home-Sickness which I feel.

Old Shepherd.
Home! what home is half so sweet
As my cot, and field, and fold?
Hear the lambkins, how they bleat!
This clear babbling brook behold!

Young Shepherd.
My father's home, my father's tillage,
His fields, his flocks, his herds I see;
And the brook of my own village
Is the sweetest brook to me.

Old Shepherd.
View yon hill, so bleak, and bare,
Oft it mounts above the sky;
Whilst, around, the clouds of air
Float in silver majesty.

Young Shepherd.
We have clouds and mountains too,
Lovely clouds and mountains steep,
And from our door the evening view
Oft makes me on my pillow weep.

Old Shepherd.
This cottage, deck'd with flowers so gay,
My home from youth to age hath been;
Nor would I quit, for princely sway,
The loveliest spot that sun hath seen.

Young Shepherd.
Around my cot, with breath serener,
The winds their bowers of perfume leave;
The very leaves and lawns are greener,
And richer is the blush of eve.

Old Shepherd.
Ardent Shepherd, thee believing,
Thy home must breathe celestial spice;
To call it Earth is but deceiving,
'Tis a Rosy Paradise.

Young Shepherd.
Oh! 'tis Earth, the more I love it!
Thy brook is sweet, thy cot is fair,
But my home is far above it,
Joy is here, but transport there.

Old Shepherd.
Tell me! art thou near thy door,
Where first thou heard'st the torrent's sound,
And, with intemperate joy, didst pore
On forms, thy heart, with cords, that bound?

Young Shepherd.
A few more hills, my steps impelling,
A few more vales, O rapturous dream!
And I shall rush into my dwelling,
Mine own dear cot, beside the stream!

Old Shepherd.
Thy transports rise above all measure;
The sun must there perpetual shine;
What else can give such boundless pleasure,
To this wond'rous home of thine?

Young Shepherd.
Sweet it is beyond expression,
There I laugh'd in infancy;
There I lived to man's discretion,
And my home is dear to me.

Old Shepherd.
Hast thou those (their wish obeying)
Whom to greet, thy heart doth burn?
Hast thou those who chide thy staying,
And, round their hearth, thy absence mourn?

Young Shepherd.
I have a father, good and tender,
Brothers prized, and sisters kind;
I have a mother, heaven defend her!
And one other love behind.

Old Shepherd.
Ah! thy sickness I discover!
Shepherd Youth, my blessing take;
And may happiness, for ever,
In thy breast her dwelling make!