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Ye nymphs, bind up her silken hair;
O haste away, fair maid! and bring
DEAR is my little native vale,
The ring-dove builds and warbles there;
To every passing villager.
The squirrel leaps from tree to tree,
In orange-groves and myrtle-bowers
The shepherd's horn at break of day,
Nor on beds of fading flowers
On awful Virtue's hill sublime
Eternal bliss for transient pain. †
*The supposed scene of this elegant piece is in Italy.
+ The sentiment in this song, which is introduced in the alteration of Comus for the stage, is borrowed from a noted passage in Hesiod.
IN THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS.
LET ambition fire thy mind,
Thou wert born o'er men to reign; Not to follow flocks design'd;
Scorn thy crook, and leave the plain.
Crowns I'll throw beneath thy feet;
Thou on necks of kings shall tread; Joys in circles joys shall meet
Which way e'er thy fancy's led.
Let not toils of empire fright,
All the joy, but not the care.
Shepherd, if thou 'It yield the prize,
Happy thou shalt reign below.
THE wretch condemn'd with life to part
Still, still on hope relies;
And every pang that rends the heart
Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,
O MEMORY! thou fond deceiver,
To former joys recurring ever,
Thou, like the world, th' opprest oppressing, Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe; And he who wants each other blessing
In thee must ever find a foe.
WHEN lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
And wring his bosom, is-to die.*
Lucy, I think not of thy beauty;
And with that happy smiling face,
* For elegant simplicity of language, harmony of versification, and pointed neatness of composition, there are not, perhaps, to be found in the language two more finished stanzas than these, which are introduced in "The Vicar of Wakefield."