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Ne'er rouze the foul, by ftrokes of magic kind,
Juft war to wage, or humanize mankind;
With sweetest founds the virgin's foul control,
Or in Elyfium wrap the lover's foul?

Fir'd with the thought, I court the Sylvan mufe,
Her magic influence o'er me to diffuse;
Whilft I afpire to wake the rural reed,

And fing of fwains, whose snowy lambkins feed
On SCHUYLKILL'S banks, with fhady walnuts crown'd,
And bid the vales with mufic melt around.

Soon as the rays that gild the orient dawn, Ting'd the blue hills, and pearl'd each dewy lawn, Two fwains arose and spread their bleating train O'er the fresh verdure of a flow'ry plain;

Then fought a hill where purple violets bloom'd,
And fragrant fcents the downy air perfum'd;
Close by whofe fide there ftray'd a murm'ring brook,
Where foft reclin'd, each fix'd his oaken crook;
When gay Menalcas the long filence broke,
And penfive Daphnis, thus returning fpoke.

MENAL CAS,

See Nature's fweets profufely round display'd, Flow'rs paint the lawn, and green bedecks the shade; The feather'd choir in carols hail the day,

And new-blown hawthorns feel yon heav'nly ray;

Pomona

Pomona spreads her dulcet charms around,
And buxom Pan o'erleaps the pregnant ground.
All but my Daphnis hail the rifing morn;
Each face but his congenial fmiles adorn.
When kindly nature thus invites to joy,
What irksome cares can Daphnis' reft destroy?
Have thy young lambs by wolves devouring bled,
Or fome kind brother mingled with the dead?
O fay what grief involves the troubled swain,
That thus he flights the fhepherd and his strain?

DAPHNI S.

Nature, 'tis true, exults in verņal bloom, Each grove is mufic, and each field perfume; The fruitful trees their, bloffom'd foliage rear, And jocund fhepherds hail the golden year; The groves, the vales, the hills and ev'ry lawn, With sprightly echoes wake the blushing dawnBut lawns, and hills, and vales and groves around, Are nought to Daphnis but an empty found; The linnet's fongs no more entice my ear, Nor charm the beauties of the fmiling year; The day's refulgence now delights no more, Nor night's cool fhade expanded to each shore!

But fince my friend can fympathize with pain, Know then why this indifference to thy strain.

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On my young lambs no prowling wolves have fed, No brother-fwain is number'd with the dead;

But cruel Delia has unfaithful prov'd,

And flights the fwain that oft fhe fwore fhe lov'd.
Say then, Menalcas! has not Daphnis cause
To break all Nature's and all Reason's laws;
To plunge me headlong from yon mountain's brow,
And end my forrows in the waves below.

MENAL CAS.

Can lovely Delia e'er unfaithful prove,

Or flight the swain to whom she vow'd her love?
The rabid wolves may browse with harmless sheep,
And foreft-doves with tow'ring eagles keep;
The crabbed thorn with clustering grapes may bend,
And humble willows to proud oaks ascend;
The vales out-top the lofty mountain's brow-
But charming Delia cannot break her vow!

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Ceafe fhepherd, ceafe! for now no Delia charms, Nor more fhall Daphnis wanton in her arms; The spreading boughs no more fhall guard our love, Nor Delia's name be figur'd in each grove! For me, my fheep run bleating o'er the plain, While I to woods and flinty rocks complain!

Milder

Milder than Delia flinty rocks are grown,
For in fad echoes they return my moan;
But haughty Delia fcorns my ardent flame,
And bids her shepherd woo fome humbler dame!

MENAL CAS.

The sportful trouts may leave their watʼry plains, To dwell in woods, and tune fpontaneous strains; The warbling linnets may in rivers glide, And dash the billows with the dolphin's pride; Yon distant steers, that drag the heavy plough, May, like the squirrel, fpring from bough to boughBut heav'nly Delia cannot faithless prove, Nor barter for vile gain her promis'd love!

DAPHNI S.

The breeze that shakes the fpangl'd dew-drops round,

The fwelling floods that burft the meadow's bound, Are not more wav'ring than the female mind! Wild as the waves, unftable as the wind!

MENAL CAS.

With gentler manners treat the beauteous race,

Nor fay, if one's unfaithful, all are base!

Let thy fweet pipe beguile this ill-tim'd woe,

While from my reed fpontaneous notes fhall flow.

Behold

Behold our flocks are scatt'ring o'er the plain,
Proceed we then to chaunt the Sylvan strain.

DAPHNI S.

Come, then, Menalcas! tuneful fhepherd rife, Thy song shall praise the SOVEREIGN of the skies; Whilft I will join in that exalted theme,

Nor more repeat the faithlefs fair-one's name!

ODE

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