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wheel.

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And bid fair peace be to my såble shroud!”

For we were nursed upon the self-same hill,
Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill; ?
Together both, ere the high lawns appeared. . 25
Under the opening eyelids of the Morn,.
We drove a-field, and both together heard
What time the grey-fly winds her sultry horn,
Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night,
Oft till the star that rose at evening bright
Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering

wheel.
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute;
Tempered to the oaten flute,

Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel + From the glad sound would not be absent long; 35 And old Damætas loved to hear our song.

But, oh! the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Now thou art gone, and never must return!
Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves, X
With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 40
And all their echoes, mourn.

The willows, and the hazel copses green, - Shall now no more be seen

Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. /
As killing as the canker to the rose,
Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,
Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear,
When first the white-thorn blows;
Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear.

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50 Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless

deep
Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas?
For neither were ye playing on the steep
Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,

Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, 55 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream. ,

Ay me! I fondly dream “Had ye been there,"....for what could that

have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,

The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 60 Whom universal nature did lament,

When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, His gory visage down the stream was sente> Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?

Alas! what boots it with uncessant care 85 To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade,

And strictly meditate the thankless Muse?
Were it not better done, as others use,
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair?
rú Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise

(That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days; But, the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 75 Comes the blind Fury with the abhorrèd shears, i

And slits the thin-spun life. “But not the praise,"

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Phæbus replied, and touched my trembling ears:
"Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
Nor in the glistering foil
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, 80
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
_Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.)

O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood, 85
Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds,
That strain I heard was of a higher mood.
But now my oat proceeds,
And listens to the Herald of the Sea
That came in Neptune's plea.
He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds,
What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain?
And questioned every gust of rugged wings
That blows from off each beakèd promontory,
They knew not of his story;
And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed:
The air was calm, and on the level brine
Sleek Panope with all her sisters played.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark,

300
Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark,
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.

Next, Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow,
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge,
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge

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Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.

wa Ahl who hath reft," quoth he, “my dearest C. pledge?☺ Last came, and last did go, Luis

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake; mo,
110 Two massy keys he bore of metals twain .

(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).
He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake:-
“How well could I have spared for thee, young

swain,
Enow of such as, for their bellies' sake,
115 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold! 17

Of other care they little reckoning make,
Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast,
And shove away the worthy bidden guest.
Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how

to hold
120 A sheep-hook, or have learnt aught else the least

That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!
What recks it them? What need they? They are

sped; p
And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs

Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; 125 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,

But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw,
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread;
Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw

Daily devours apace, and nothing said.
130 But that two-handed engine at the door .

Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.”

Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers'use? Of shades, and wanton winds: and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 140 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, viulu l 145 The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears,

· 150 To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. For so, to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. Ay me! Whilst thee the shores and sounding seas Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd; Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide Visit’st the bottom of the monstrous world; Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,

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