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Whose sense instructs us, and whose humour charms,
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away!
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along!
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along !
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!
Next Ægon fung, while Windsor groves admir'd;
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain! Of perjur'd Doris, dying I complain:
With him thro' Libya's burning plains I'll go,
Pinguia corticibus fudent electra myrica.Virg.Ecl. viii. P.
Quale sopor felis in gramine, quale per æslum
Duleis aquæ Jaliente fitim restinguere rivo. Ecl. v. P. VER:52. An qui amant, ipsi sibi somnip fingunt? Id. viii. P.
Here where the mountains less'ning as they rise
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! 65 Beneath yon' poplar oft we past the day : Oft' on the rind I carv'd her am'rous vows, While she with garlands hung the bending boughs: The garlands fade, the vows are worn away ; So dies her love, and so my hopes decay. 70
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strain! Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain, Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine, And grateful clusters swell with floods of wine; Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove; 75 Just Gods ! shall all things yield returns but love?
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! The shepherds cry, “ Thy flocks are left a prey— Ah! what avails it me, the flocks to keep, Who lost my heart while I preserv'd my sheep. 80 Pan came, and ask'd, what magic caus'd my smart, Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart? What eyes but hers, alas, have pow'r to move! And is there magic but what dwells in love? 84
Ver. 74. And grateful clusters, etc.) The scene is in Windsor-forest. So this image not so exact.
Nefcio quis teneros oculus mihi fofrinat agnos.
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful strains ! I'll fly from shepherds, flocks, and flow'ry plains. From shepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forsake mankind, and all the world - but love! I know thee, Love! on foreign Mountains bred, Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage Tigers fed. 90 Thou wert from Ætna's burning entrails torn, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born!
Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay! Farewell, ye woods, adieu the light of day! One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains,
95 No more, ye hills, no more resound
strains ! Thus sung the shepherds till th’approach of night, The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade. 100
VER. 98, 100.] There is a little inaccuracy here; the first line makes the time after sun-set; the second, before.
IMITATIONS. VER. 89. Nunc fcio quid fit Amor : duris in cotibus il
lum, etc. P.
L Y CIDAS.
Is not so mournful as the strains you fing.
Winter.] This was the Poet's favourite Pastoral.
Mrs. Tempeft.] This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkshire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh, who, having celebrated her in a Pastoral Ele. gy, desired his friend to do the same, as appears from one of his Letters, dated Sept. 9, 1706. “ Your lait Eclogue
“ being IMITATIONS. Ver. 1. Thyrsis, the music, etc.]
‘Adú Ti, etc. Theocr. Id. i.