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The garlands fade, the vows are worn away;
So dies her love, and fo my hopes decay.

Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful strain !
Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain,
Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine,
And grateful clusters fwell with floods of wine;
Now blushing berries paint the yellow grove;
Juft gods! fhall-all things yield returns but love!
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay!
The shepherds cry, "Thy flocks are left a prey."
Ah! what avails it me, the flocks to keep,
Who loft my heart while I preferv'd my sheep.
Pan came, and ask'd, what magic caus'd my smart,
Or what ill eyes malignant glances dart?
What eyes but hers, alas, have pow'r to move ?
And is there magic but what dwells in love!




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Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful ftrains! 85 Ill fly from fhepherds, flocks, and flow'ry plains. From thepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove, Forfake mankind, and all the world, but love! I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred, Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage tigers fed. Thou wert. from Etna's burning entrails torn, Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born! Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! Farewell, ye woods, adieu the light of day! One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains, No more, ye hills, no more refound my strains! Thus fung the thepherds till th' approach of night, The fkies, yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low fun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.


VER. 82. Or what ill eyes.]

Nefcio quis teneros oculos mihi fascinat agnos.



VER. 89. Nunc fcio quid fit Amor : duris in cotibus illum, etc. |

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To the Memory of Mrs. TEMPEST,


HYRSIS, the music of that murm'ring spring


Is not fo mournful as the ftrains you fing.
Nor rivers winding thro' the vales below,
So fweetly warble, or fo fmoothly flow.
Now fleeping flocks on their foft fleeces lie,
The moon, ferene in glory, mounts the sky,
While filent birds forget their tuneful lays,
Oh fing of Daphne's fate, and Daphne's praife!


Behold the groves that shine with filver frost, Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure loft.



Mrs. Tempeft.] This Lady was of an ancient family in Yorkshire, and particularly admired by the Author's friend Mr. Walsh, who, having celebrated her in a Paftoral Elegy, defired his friend to do the fame, as appears from one of his Letters, dated Sept. 9. 1706. "Your laft Eclogue being on the fame fubject with mine, on Mrs. Tempeft's death, I should take it very kindly in you to "give it a little turn, as if it were to the memory of the fame lady." Her death having happened on the night of the great ftorm in 1703, gave a propriety to this Eclogue, which in its gene. ral turn alludes to it. The fcene of the Paftoral lies in a grove, the time at midnight.


VER. 3. Thyrfis, the mufic, etc.] 'AdÚ TI, etc. Theocr. Idyl. i.

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Here fhall I try the fweet Alexis' firain,
That call'd the lift ning Dryads to the plain?
Thames heard the numbers, as he flow'd along,
And bade his willows learn the moving fong.


So may kind rains their vital moisture yield, And fwell the future harveft of the field. Begin; this charge the dying Daphne gave, And faid, "Ye fhepherds, fing around my grave!" Sing, while befide the shaded tomb I mourn, And with fresh bays her rural fhrine adorn. THYRSIS.

Ye gentle Mufes, leave your cryftal fpring,
Let Nymphs and Sylvans cyprefs garlands bring;
Ye weeping Loves, the ftream with myrtles hide,
And break your bows as when Adonis dy'd;
And with your golden darts, now useless grown,
Infcribe a verfe on this relenting stone;
"Let nature change, let heav'n and earth deplore,
"Fair Daphne's dead, and love is now no more!"

'Tis done, and nature's various charms decay,
See gloomy clouds obfcure the chearful day!
Now hung with pearls the dropping trees appear,
Their faded honours fcatter'd on her bier.
See where, on earth, the flow'ry glories lie,





With her they flourish'd, and with her they die.
Ah, what avail the beauties nature wore ?
Fair Daphne's dead, and beauty is no more!



VFR. 13. Thames keard, etc.]

Audiit Eurotas, juffitque edifcere lauros. Virg. VER. 23, 24, 25.]

Inducite fontibus umbras.

Et tumulum facite, et tumulo fuperaddite carmen.


VFR. 29. Originally thus in t'e MS.

is done, and nature's chang'd fince you are gone; Behold the clouds have put their mourning on,

For her the flocks refufe their verdant food, The thirty heifers fhun the gliding flood,

The filver fwans her hapless fate bemoan,

In notes more fad than when they fing their own; 40 In hollow caves fweet Echo filent lies,

Silent, or only to her name replies;

Her name with pleasure once the taught the fhore,
Now Daphne's dead, and pleasure is no more!

No grateful dews defcend from ev'ning skies,
Nor morning odours from the flow'rs arife;
No rich perfumes refresh the fruitful field,
Nor fragrant herbs their native incenfe yield.
The balmy Zephyrs, filent fince her death,
Lament the ceafing of a sweeter breath;
Th' industrious bees neglect their golden ftore!
Fair Daphne's dead, and sweetness is no more!



No more the mounting larks, while Daphne fings,
Shall, lift'ning in mid air, fufpend their wings;
No more the birds fhall imitate her lays,

Or, hush'd with wonder, hearken from the fprays:
No more the ftreams their murmurs fhall forbear,
A fweeter mufic than their own to hear;
But tell the reeds, and tell the vocal fhore,


Fair Daphne's dead, and mufic is no more!


Her fate is whisper'd by the gentle breeze, And told in fighs to all the trembling trees;

The trembling trees, in ev'ry plain and wood,
Her fate remurmur to the filver flood:
The filver flood, fo lately calm, appears
Swell'd with new paffion, and o'erflows with tears;
The winds and trees and floods her death deplore,
Daphne, our grief! our glory now no more!


But fee! where Daphne wond'ring mounts on high Above the clouds, above the ftarry sky!

VER. 69, 70.


miratur limen Olympi,

Sub pedibufque videt nubes et fydera Daphnis.



Eternal beauties grace the fhining scene,
Fields ever fresh, and groves for ever green!
There while you reft in Amaranthine bow'rs,.
Or from those meads select unfading flow'rs,
Behold us kindly, who your name implore,
Daphne, our Goddess, and our grief no more!



How all things liften, while thy Mufe complains! Such filence waits on Philomela's strains,


In fome ftill ev'ning, when the whisp'ring breeze
Pants on the leaves, and dies upon the trees.
To thee, bright goddefs, oft a lamb fhall bleed,
If teeming ewes encrease my fleecy breed.
While plants their fhade, or flow'rs their odours give,
Thy name, thy honour, and thy praise fhall live!


But fee, Orion theds unwholesome dews; Arife, the pines a noxious fhade diffuse; Sharp Boreas blows, and Nature feels decay, Time conquers all, and we must Time obey. Adieu, ye vales, ye mountains, ftreams and groves, Adieu, ye fhepherds' rural lays and loves; Adieu, my flocks; farewell, ye fylvan crew; Daphne, farewell; and all the world adieu!

VIR. 81.


illius aram

Sæpe tener noftris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus. Virg.

VER. 86.

folet effe pravis cantantibus umbra,

Juniperi gravis umbra. Virg.

VER. 88. Time conquers all, etc.]

Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.

Vid. etiam Sannazarii Eccl. et Spenfer's Calendar,


VER. 83. Originally thus in the MS.

While vapours rife, and driving fnows defcend,

Thy honour, name, and praise shall never end.



NOTES. VER. 89, etc. These four laft lines allude to the feveral fubjects of the four Paftorals, and to the several scenes of them particularized before in each.

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