PSALMUS XIX.

Absente sole, cum statim vesper suas
Reducit umbras, luna carmen excipit,
Et singulis, ut eunt renarrat noctibus,
Sui quis ille magnus author luminis.
Quod et planetæ per vices, quod ignium
Pro se minorum totus affirmat chorus,
Et dum movetur quisque certis legibus,
Utrumque veritate pervadit polum.

Solenniore quamlibet silentio

Circuni hunc opacum orbein feruntur omnia,
Nec ulla clare vox ab extra nec sonus
Tot lucidos auditur inter ordines ;
Auditur intus, quam canoris vocibus,
Quibusque cœlum ferveat concentibus,
Ut hunc in hymnum concinat frequentia,
"Divinus est, qui nos creavit, artifex.”

17

COLIN'S COMPLAINT.

DESPAIRING beside a clear stream,
A shepherd forsaken was laid ;
And while a false nymph was his theme,
A willow supported his head.

The winds, that blew over the plain,
To his sighs with a sigh did reply ;
And the brook, in return to his pain,
Ran mournfully murmuring by.

Alas! silly swain that I was!

Thus sadly complaining, he cried; When first I beheld that fair face,

'Twere better by far I had died: She talk'd, and I blest the dear tongue;

When she smil'd, 'twas a pleasure too great:

I listen'd, and cry'd, when she sung,
Was nightingale ever so sweet!

How foolish was I to believe,

She could doat on so lowly a clown? Or that her fond heart would not grieve, To forsake the fine folk of the town?

CORYDON QUERENS.

DECEPTOS pastor secum meditatus amores
Ad ripam jacuit prætereuntis aquæ ;
Dumque recensebat falsæ perjuria nymphæ,
Lassatum salices sustinuere caput.
Audierat zephyri vocem gemitusque dolentis,
Et mæstis venti congemuere sonis:
Audierat rivus; resonumque ad murmura murmur,
Et questum ad questus ingeminavit aqua.

Ah miserum Corydonem! et durum ante omnia .fatum !

Tristibus his lacrymans ingemit ille modis ; Adspexi vultum, lethoque (heu sidera iniqua !) Ex illo intuitu quot graviora tuli !

Nusquam tutus eram ; Daphnæ mihi dulcis imago
Ridentis, dulcis sermo loquentis erat :

Seu caneret, blando captus modulamine, quando
Tam suave, exclamo, tu, Philomela, canes !

Sæpe quidem dixi, Miserebitur illa; sed unde
Tam nostræ fieret rusticitatis amans ?
Unde urbis splendorem ea sciret, opesque superbas
Sordibus exiguæ posthabuisse casæ ?

20

COLIN'S COMPLAINT.

To think, that a beauty so gay,

So kind and so constant would prove ;
Or go clad like our maidens in grey,
Or live in a cottage on love?

What though I have skill to complain?
Though the muses my temples have crown'd?
What though, when they hear my soft strain?
The virgins sit weeping around!
Ah, Colin thy hopes are in vain,
Thy pipe and thy laurel resign;

Thy false one inclines to a swain,
Whose music is sweeter than thine.

And you, my companions so dear,
Who sorrow to see me betray'd,
Whatever I suffer, forbear,

Forbear to accuse the false maid.

Though through the wide world I shou'd range, "Tis in vain from my fortune to fly : "Twas her's to be false and to change; 'Tis mine to be constant and die.

If, while my hard fate I sustain,
In her breast any pity is found,

Let her come with the nymphs of the plain,
And see me laid low in the ground.
The last humble boon that I crave,

Is to shade me with cypress and yew;
And when she looks down in my grave,
Let her own that her shepherd was true.

CORYDON QUERENS.

Credebam tamen ignarus; rebarque quod esset
Inter divitias invenienda fides:

Quod crasse possent vestes, victusque placere
Rusticus, atque humili sub lare castus amor.

Quid mihi, Apollinea cingar quod tempora lauro,
Et querulæ nôrim tangere fila lyræ ?
Quid prodest, molles numeros siquando movebam,
Virgineæ circum quod maduere genæ ?

Ah, nihil est, Corydon, Phœbi cur munera jactes !
Nec lyra jam decori, nec tibi laurus erit.
Est novus, est Daphnæ felicior ignis ; et illi
Dulcior est calamus, callidiorque manus.

Vos tamen hinc, comitum pars O charissima, amici,
Queis mecum luctus sunt, sociusque dolor,
Parcite vos, quicquid dederint mihi fata ferendum,
Parcite vos Daphnen insimulare doli.

Si toto vagus orbe feror, comitatur euntem
Me mea sors, nulla dissocianda fuga :
Quamvis inteream, Daphne mutabitur usque ;
Inteream quamvis, usque fidelis ero.

Siquid adhuc poterunt mollescere corda, nec omnis
Ex inclementi pectore fugit amor;
Agrestes inter decoret mea funera nymphas,
Membraque supremo det tumulanda rogo.
Hoc mihi concedat saltem, non multa roganti,
Nudaque cupressi frondibus ossa tegat ;

Relliquias urna positas ubi viderit, Urna,
Relliquias fidi, dicat, amantis habes,