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Through these a river rolls its winding flood,
Adorn’d with various tufts of rising wood;
Here half conceal'd in trees a cottage stands,
A castle there the op'ning plain commands,
Beyond, a town with glitt'ring fpires is crown'd,
And difant hills the wide horizon bound;
So charming was the scene, awhile the swain
Beheld delighted, and forgot his pain ;
But soon the stings infix'd within his heart,
With cruel force renew'd their raging smart;
His How'ry wreath, which long with pride he wore,
The gift of Delia, from his brows he tore :
Then cry'd ; May all thy charms, ungrateful maid,
Like these neglected roses droop and fade ;
May angry Heav'n deform each guilty grace,
That triumphs now in that deluding face ;
Those alter'd looks may every shepherd Aly,
And ev'n thy Daphnis hate thee worse than I !

Say, thou inconstant, what has Damon done,
To lose the heart his tedious pains had won ?
Tell me what charms you in my rival find,
Against wḥose power no ties haye strength to bind;
Has he, like me, with long obedience itrove
To conquer your disdain, and merit love?
Has he with transport every smile ador'd,
And dy'd with grief at each ungentle word ?
Ah, no! the conquest was obtain'd with ease :
He pleas'd you, by not studying to please ;


His careless indolence your pride alarmid;
And had he lov'd you more, he less had charm'd.

O pain to think, another shall possess
Those balmy lips which I was wont to press :
Another on her panting breast shall lie,
And catch sweet madness from her swimming eye!
I saw their friendly flocks together feed,
I saw them hand in hand walk o'er the mead :
Would my clos'd eyes had funk in endless night,
Ere I was doom'd to bear that hateful fight!
Where'er they pass'd be blasted every flow'r,
And hungry wolves their helpless flocks devour
Ah wretched swain ! could no examples move
Thy heedless heart to fhun the


of Love? Hast thou not heard how poor

b Menalcas dy'd
A vidim to Parthenia's fatal pride?
Dear was the youth to all the tuneful plain,
Lov'd by the nymphs, by Phæbus lov'd in vain :
Around his tomb their tears the Muses paid,
And all things mourn'd but the relentless maid.
Would I could die like him, and be at peace!
These torments in the quiet grave would cease ;
There my vex'd thoughts a calm repose would find,
And rest as if my

Delia still were kind.
No, let me live her falfhood to upbraid ;
Some god perhaps my juft revenge will aid. -

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bosom tear,


Alas! what aid, fond swain, vouldit thou receive
Could thy heart bear to see its Delia grieve
Protect her, Heav'n, and let'her never know
The flightest part of hapless Damon's woe :
I ask no vengeance from the pow'rs above;
All I implore is never more to love-
Let me this fondness from

Let me forget that e'er I thought her fair.
Come, cool Indifference, and heal my breast;
Wearied, at length I seek thy downy rest :
No turbulence of passion shall destroy
My future ease with flatt'ring hopes of joy.
Hear, mighty Pan, and all ye Sylvans hear,
What by your guardian deities I swear;
No more my eyes shall view her fatal charms,
No more I'll court the trait’ress to my arms;
Not all her arts my steady foul shall move,
And she shall find that Reason conquers Love.

Scarce had he spoke, when through the lawn below
Alone he saw the beauteous Delia go ;
At once transported he forgot his vow,
(Such perjuries the laughing gods allow)
Down the steep hills with ardent haste he flew;
He found her kind, and soon beliey'd her true.



To Lord COBHAM 2.


OBHAM, to thee this rural lay I bring,

Whose guiding judgment gives me skill to fing;
Though far unequal to those polish'd strains,
With which thy Congreve charm’d the liftning plains,
Yet shall its mufic please thy partial ear,
And footh thy breast with thoughts that once were dear :
Recall those years which time has thrown behind,
When smiling Love with Honour shar'd thy mind :
The sweet remembrance shall thy youth reftore,
Fancy again shall run past pleasures o’er,
And while in Stow's enchanting walks you stray,
This theme may help to cheat the summer's day.

Beneath the covert of a myrtle wood,
To Venus rais’d, a rustic altar stood,
To Venus and to Hymen, there combin'd,
In friendly league to favour human kind.
With wanton Cupids in that happy fhade,
The gentle Virtues, and mild Wisdom play'd.

· The Author's Uncle. He died at Stow, September 13, 1749.


Nor there in sprightly Pleasure's genial train,
Lurk'd fick Disguft, or late-repenting Pain,
Nor Force, nor Int'reft, join'd unwilling hands,
But Love consenting ty'd the blissful bands.
Thither with glad devotion Damon came,
To thank the pow'rs who bless'd his faithful flame ;
Two milk-white doves he on their altar laid,
And thus to both his grateful homage paid :
Hail, bounteous god, before whose hallow'd shrine
My Delia vow'd to be for ever mine,
While glowing in her cheeks, with tender love,
Sweet virgin modesty reluctant Atroveo:
And hail to thee, fair queen of young desires,
Long shall my heart preserve thy pleasing fires,
Since Delia now can all its warmth return,
As fondly languish, and as fiercely burn.

O the dear gloom of last propitious night!
O fhade more charming than the faireft light!
Then in my arms I clasp'd the melting maid,
Then all my pains one moment overpaid;
Then first the sweet excess of bliss I prov'd,
Which none can tafte but who like me have lov'd,
Thou too, bright goddess, once in Ida's grove,
Didft not disdain to meet a shepherd's love,
With him while frising lambs around you play'd,
Conceal'd you fported in the secret thade ;
Scarce could Anchises' raptures equal mine,
And Delia's beauties only yield to shine.


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