Classic Poem

One morn, when hoary Winter 'gan his reign,
And fleecy showers had whiten'd o'er the plain,
Young Daphnis, musing by his chearful fire,
Pleas'd, in his straw-crown'd hut, attun'd his lyre;
The crackling wood with sprightly ardour blaz'd,
While thro' his little casement Daphnis gaz'd,
And thus he sang — " Hail! Winter, tho' severe,
" Thy charms are striking as the blooming year;
" How pleasant 'tis to see the melting ray,
" Smiling thro' mists that hover o'er the day;
" What charming landscapes do the vallies yield,
" The snow how brilliant, that adorns the field;
" The leafless branches of yon hoary trees,
" Rob'd in new beauty, sparkle as they freeze:
" Those hedges, late array'd in flow'ry pride,
" That might for fragrance with the rose have vy'd;
" Tho' lost their sweets, are yet superbly drest,
" And Nature's hand impearls their russet vest:
" See how the briery twigs and pointed thorn,
" Crusted in glitt'ring frost, the scene adorn;
" Transparent icicles, like dew-drops run,
" Wave in the wind and sparkle in the sun;
" The infant corn shoots forth in verdant blades,
" Diffusing softness o'er the op'ning glades;
" No more the herds on grassy meads are fed,
" Or lie luxuriant on their cowslip bed;
" The bleating flocks no more on knot-grass feed,
" Nor tending shepherd tunes his past'ral reed;
" But in the litter'd stall and close-pen'd fold,
" Exulting, view afar the Winter's cold:
" So hard the earth, that scarce a step remains
" To speak the docile Oxen's useful pains;
" Who, from the distant shed, laborious bear
" The hoarded faggots of the former year.
" Flown are the tenants from the naked groves,
" In search of warmer climes to chaunt their loves;
" Save the lone Titmouse, twit'ring still his note,
" And hardy Wren, who swells her little throat;
" The Red-breasts too, still tune domestic song,
" And as they chirping call they hop along;
" My willing hand their pressing wants supply,
" Which thankful peckt, again they mount the sky;
" Nor snow, nor frost, prevents their tribute lay;
" Dost thou, O! Man, such constant homage pay?

" See! where yon spreading oak its shelter lends,
" Where distant smoke in tow'ring curves ascends,
" Beneath that rustic roof my Phillis dwells,
" That maid who all our village maids excels;
" Ev'n now, perhaps, her thoughts delighted rove
" On absent Daphnis, and his faithful love;
" Haply her shepherd's praise she deigns to sing,
" And chaunts soft wishes for the distant Spring:
" For then our flocks together sweetly stray,
" And social converse gilds each lovely day;
" Sweet is her converse, beauteous too the maid,
" Fair as the Spring in op'ning buds array'd;
" Yet charms more lasting my affections bind,
" I love my Phillis for her gen'rous mind.

" Ardent I've lov'd her, ever since that day
" Alexis' goats did o'er yon mountain stray;
" When the young shepherd, from the bending rock,
" Explor'd the cause of his diminisht flock;
" There his two Goats (the one was big with young)
" He murder'd views, as o'er the cliff he hung:
" Now rising sighs Alexis' bosom swell,
" And gushing tears his honest anguish tell;
" For, oh! alas! my Father's poor, " he cry'd,
" Where shall I stray to get his wants supply'd?
" Home can I ne'er return, ah! luckless day,
" Ill-fated Goats, why from me did ye stray? "

" Attentive Phillis dropt a pitying tear,
" And bade him not of Providence despair;
" Then thus she said; " Poor shepherd, weep no more,
" Indulgent Heav'n has given me larger store;
" From my increasing fold two Goats be thine,
" One too with young; good youth, no more repine, "
" With joy the grateful shepherd wept once more,
" Her flowing eyes again with joy ran o'er,
" Whilst I enraptur'd wept, and Phillis prais'd,
" Whose sympathizing heart th' afflicted rais'd.

" O! Winter, be thou as thou wilt, severe,
" This well-tun'd flute shall charm each list'ning ear;
" While grateful shepherds join in Phillis' praise,
" To her the truest, tend'rest notes I'll raise:
" Though this keen season kills each beauteous flow'r,
" Nor winding woodbines stray around yon bow'r;
" What tho' no zephyrs ambient incense breathe,
" A chaplet for her brow I yet can wreath;
" For the green Myrtle still in beauty grows,
" Nor yields in fragrance to the blushing Rose:
" And this soft warbling bird, I've nurs'd so long,
" Shall grace the present with mellifluous song.
" Be sure, sweet songster! to extend thy throat,
" And charm my Phillis with thy sprightliest note;
" Then may she listen, and with joy approve,
" Notes that remind her of her Daphnis' love."

Thus ends the shepherd's carol for the day;
Alexis heard, and much approv'd the lay.