 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
1
INDUCTION.
Apollo raised aloft his golden head,
Crowning each peak and purple shining spire;
The upward lark above the misty mead
Began to warble forth his new desire;
The shepherd drove his woolly flocks to feed
Along the mountain-side; in quaint attire
The milking-maid tript forth, and so did sing,
All nature seemed to join her carolling.
Crowning each peak and purple shining spire;
The upward lark above the misty mead
Began to warble forth his new desire;
The shepherd drove his woolly flocks to feed
Along the mountain-side; in quaint attire
The milking-maid tript forth, and so did sing,
All nature seemed to join her carolling.
Along the hedgerows drooping buds were seen
To lift themselves and shake the dew-drops bright;
The trees revived, and through their robes of green,
Rustled their airy leaves for much delight;
The blissful wind slid o'er the plain to glean
The vapoury fragments of the parting night;
The laughing brooks leapt merrily along,
And cheered their flowery way with many a song.
To lift themselves and shake the dew-drops bright;
The trees revived, and through their robes of green,
Rustled their airy leaves for much delight;
The blissful wind slid o'er the plain to glean
The vapoury fragments of the parting night;
The laughing brooks leapt merrily along,
And cheered their flowery way with many a song.
2
The labourer shouted in the furrowed field;
The bark of dogs from upland farms was blown;
Whilst cawing rooks about the elm-trees wheel'd
That high above the gabled grange had grown;
And all the vale a sense of peace did yield
From quiet homestead and from hamlet brown:
The newly-baptized world to heaven looked up,
And smiled in gladness of fresh springing hope.
The bark of dogs from upland farms was blown;
Whilst cawing rooks about the elm-trees wheel'd
That high above the gabled grange had grown;
And all the vale a sense of peace did yield
From quiet homestead and from hamlet brown:
The newly-baptized world to heaven looked up,
And smiled in gladness of fresh springing hope.
Then did I waken from my sleepy bed,
And gat me from my couch right joyfully;
And by a crystal streamlet lightly led,
I spied a shepherd swain reclined thereby;
A leafy garland set upon his head,
And by his side a pipe of reed did lie;
And thus he sang, whilst all the solitude
With echoing voice his happy strain renew'd:—
And gat me from my couch right joyfully;
And by a crystal streamlet lightly led,
I spied a shepherd swain reclined thereby;
A leafy garland set upon his head,
And by his side a pipe of reed did lie;
And thus he sang, whilst all the solitude
With echoing voice his happy strain renew'd:—
O world of false delights, why do you make
This pleasant garden such a den of care;
And all these rural joys do scorn to take,
Whose tender hours with rest so woven are?
Why will you seek for pain, and peace forsake,
Nor ever to these pleasant bowers repair?
Why is your love set on such worthless things,
When Nature makes you these fair offerings?
This pleasant garden such a den of care;
And all these rural joys do scorn to take,
Whose tender hours with rest so woven are?
Why will you seek for pain, and peace forsake,
Nor ever to these pleasant bowers repair?
Why is your love set on such worthless things,
When Nature makes you these fair offerings?
3
Your wealth can buy no carpet like these leas;
No costliest scents these blossoms can surpass,
Whose tinctured lips breathe perfume on the breeze;
Your brightest mirrors dull beside the glass
Of these clear pools; your proudest palaces,
Through which the painted shows of beauty pass,
Match not these shady woods whose twilight halls
Are filled with sound of winds and waterfalls.
No costliest scents these blossoms can surpass,
Whose tinctured lips breathe perfume on the breeze;
Your brightest mirrors dull beside the glass
Of these clear pools; your proudest palaces,
Through which the painted shows of beauty pass,
Match not these shady woods whose twilight halls
Are filled with sound of winds and waterfalls.
Are we athirst; pure wells our thirst can slake:
Would we be fanned; cool breezes pass us by:
If we desire repose, soft turf doth make
Our couch, with birds to sing our lullaby:
The winding stream, broad pastures, wood and brake,
More fair than pictures to our gazing be:
All things in heaven and under heaven combined,
Do make the empire of a quiet mind.
Would we be fanned; cool breezes pass us by:
If we desire repose, soft turf doth make
Our couch, with birds to sing our lullaby:
The winding stream, broad pastures, wood and brake,
More fair than pictures to our gazing be:
All things in heaven and under heaven combined,
Do make the empire of a quiet mind.
So wealthy are the souls that live at ease,
Whom sweet content with gold and lands doth bless,
And wholesome Nature's simplest charms do please
With more than worth of worldly happiness:
For them the brook doth flow, and spreading trees
Their welcome shade of murmuring leaves do dress,
And Joy doth wait in byeways them to meet,
Their fixed serenities with smiles to greet.—
Whom sweet content with gold and lands doth bless,
And wholesome Nature's simplest charms do please
With more than worth of worldly happiness:
For them the brook doth flow, and spreading trees
Their welcome shade of murmuring leaves do dress,
And Joy doth wait in byeways them to meet,
Their fixed serenities with smiles to greet.—
4
Thus as he sang the shining sun did mount
His azure throne, and all the woods were still;
Only the silvery lapping of the fount
Was heard within the shadow of the hill:
From hour to hour the westering day did count
His tranquil thinkings, and the air did fill
His heart with joy, wherefrom this happy verse
Distilled like incense through the universe.
His azure throne, and all the woods were still;
Only the silvery lapping of the fount
Was heard within the shadow of the hill:
From hour to hour the westering day did count
His tranquil thinkings, and the air did fill
His heart with joy, wherefrom this happy verse
Distilled like incense through the universe.
Then as the gilded hours did glide away,
He sang these songs which now I write for you,
Whilst from a neigh bouring thicket all the day,
A throstle whistled, and a far cuckoo,
Kissing the sleeping Silence where it lay
Until it woke and faintly sang thereto,
Called through the afternoon the fairest night
That ever stars with beams of love made bright:
He sang these songs which now I write for you,
Whilst from a neigh bouring thicket all the day,
A throstle whistled, and a far cuckoo,
Kissing the sleeping Silence where it lay
Until it woke and faintly sang thereto,
Called through the afternoon the fairest night
That ever stars with beams of love made bright:
Then rose, and taking up his pipe, began
To pipe thereon his master melodies:
With nimble fingers up and down he ran,
That Pan his own best cunning might despise,
And stay his vanquished breath with envy wan,
Feeding his ear with such felicities
As breed within their tones forlorn despairs,
For that no stop of his can touch such airs.
To pipe thereon his master melodies:
With nimble fingers up and down he ran,
That Pan his own best cunning might despise,
And stay his vanquished breath with envy wan,
Feeding his ear with such felicities
As breed within their tones forlorn despairs,
For that no stop of his can touch such airs.
5
Each tuneful note sang like a summer linnet
Whose heart the generous season doth unbind,
When thronèd Love sits jubilant within it,
O'erjoyed such fitting domicile to find,
As though from earth to heaven it would win it.
Adieu! he cried, ye fields: may Heaven be kind
To banish from your borders every sorrow,
And morning wake you to as fair a morrow.
Whose heart the generous season doth unbind,
When thronèd Love sits jubilant within it,
O'erjoyed such fitting domicile to find,
As though from earth to heaven it would win it.
Adieu! he cried, ye fields: may Heaven be kind
To banish from your borders every sorrow,
And morning wake you to as fair a morrow.
| The Shepherd's Garden | |