ELEGY III. DESPONDENCY.
Why sit I thus, to listless Grief a prey,
Nor lop my orchard's boughs, nor prune my vine?
While, chok'd with weeds, my promis'd crops decay,
And with'ring flow'rs, thro' lack of tending, pine.
No more my kids I gather from the rocks,
Or teach my lambs in verdant meads to roam;
But, quite neglectful of my pining flocks,
Within my dreary cottage sigh at home.
Pan yields no fleeces to my idle hand;
Gay Flora scorns to bless my slighted bow'r;
Ceres nor visits my uncultur'd land,
Nor feel my trees Pomona's fruitful pow'r.
Farewel, Oh Life! to all thy prudent cares;—
Let happier youths those busy cares employ;
Love, hopeless Love, my cheerless bosom tears.—
Why must I live forlorn of ev'ry joy?
Oh rouse me, Delia, with responsive Love!
Oh chace this langour with a gentle smile!
Rough Labour's active life o'erjoy'd I'll prove,
If Delia'll share the guerdon of my toil.
My goats I'll gather from unshelter'd rocks,
When scorching Leo fries the gaping ground;
While, in some water'd vale, the bleating flocks
My Delia tends, by poplars shaded round.
But when from heav'n unwholesome rains descend,
Or frigid blasts Earth's hoary bosom freeze,
Myself both goats and fleecy flocks will tend,
At home while Delia tastes indulgent ease.
For thee I'll gladly rise at early dawn,
To delve the glebe, or do the oxen's toil;
If thou'lt but cheer my heart at my return,
And pay my labours with a gracious smile.
The cow I'll milk, the brimming pale bring home,
And gather faggots from the neighb'ring wood,
And, numb'd and cramp'd with cold, when back I come
Thy fond concern shall warm my frozen blood.
