Classic Poem

AN ECLOGUE .

DAMON.

Mild from the shower, the morning's rosy light
Unfolds the beauteous season to the sight:
The landscape rises verdant on the view;
The little hills uplift their heads in dew;
The sunny stream rejoices in the vale;
The woods with songs approaching summer hail:
The boy comes forth among the flow'rs to play;
His fair hair glitters in the yellow ray.
Shepherds, begin the song! while, o'er the mead,
Your flocks at will on dewy pastures feed.
Behold fair nature, and begin the song;
The songs of nature to the swain belong,
Who equals Cona's bard in sylvan strains,
To him his harp an equal prize remains;
His harp, which sounds on all its sacred strings
The loves of hunters, and the wars of kings.

MENALCAS.

Now fleecy clouds in clearer skies are seen;
The air is genial, and the earth is green:
O'er hill and dale the flow'rs spontaneous spring,
And blackbirds singing now invite to sing.

MELIBoeUS.

Now milky show'rs rejoice the springing grain;
New-opening pea-blooms purple all the plain:
The hedges blossom white on every hand;
Already harvest seems to clothe the land.

MENALCAS.

White o'er the hill my snowy sheep appear,
Each with her lamb; their shepherd's name they bear.
I love to lead them where the daisy spring,
And on the sunny hill to sit and sing.

MELIBoeUS.

My fields are green with clover and with corn;
My flocks the hills, and herds the vales adorn.
I teach the stream, I teach the vocal shore,
And woods to echo that " I want no more. "

MENALCAS.

To me the bees their annual nectar yield;
Peace cheers my hut, and plenty clothes my field.
I fear no loss: I give to Ocean's wind
All care away, a monarch in my mind.

MELIBoeUS.

My mind is cheerful as the linnet's lays;
Heav'n daily hears a shepherd's simple praise.
What time I shear my flock, I send a fleece
To aged Mopsa, and her orphan niece.

MENALCAS.

Lavinia, come! her primroses upspring;
Here choirs of linnets, here yourself may sing;
Here meadows worthy of thy foot appear:
O come, Lavinia! let us wander here!

MELIBoeUS.

Rosella, come! here flow'rs the heath adorn;
Here ruddy roses open on the thorn;
Here willows by the brook a shadow give;
O here, Rosella! let us love to live!

MENALCAS.

Lavinia's fairer than the flow'rs of May,
Or Autumn apples ruddy in the ray:
For her my flow'rs are in a garland wove,
And all my apples ripen for my love.

MELIBoeUS.

Prince of the wood, the oak majestic tow'rs;
The lily of the vale is queen of flow'rs:
Above the maids Rosella's charms prevail,
As oaks in woods, and lilies in the vale!

MENALCAS.

Resound, ye rocks! ye little hills! rejoice!
Assenting woods! to Heaven uplift your voice!
Let Spring and Summer enter hand in hand;
Lavinia comes, the glory of our land!

MELIBoeUS.

Whene'er my love appears upon the plain,
To her the wond'ring shepherds tune the strain:
" Who comes in beauty like the vernal morn,
When yellow robes of light all heaven and earth adorn. "

MENALCAS.

Rosella's mine, by all the Pow'rs above;
Each star in heav'n is witness to our love.
Among the lilies she abides all day;
Herself as lovely, and as sweet as they.

MELIBoeUS.

By Tweed Lavinia feeds her fleecy care,
And in the sunshine combs her yellow hair.
Be thine the peace of Heav'n, unknown to kings,
And o'er thee angels spread their guardian wings!

MENALCAS.

I followed Nature, and was fond of praise;
Thrice noble Varo has approved my lays;
If he approves, superior to my peers,
I join th' immortal choir, and sing to other years.

MELIBoeUS.

My mistress is my Muse: the banks of Tyne
Resound with Nature's music, and with mine;
Helen the fair, the beauty of our green,
To me adjudg'd the prize when chosen queen.

DAMON.

Now cease your songs: the flocks to shelter fly,
And the high sun has gain'd the middle sky.
To both alike the poet's bays belong,
Chiefs of the choir, and masters of the song.
Thus let your pipes contend, with rival strife,
To sing the praises of the pastoral life:
Sing Nature's scenes with Nature's beauties fir'd;
Where poets dream'd, where prophets lay inspir'd.
Even Caledonian queens have trod the meads,
And sceptr'd kings assum'd the shepherd's weeds:
Th' angelic choirs, that guard the throne of God,
Have sat with shepherds on the humble sod.
With us renew'd the golden times remain,
And long-lost innocence is found again.