after the taking of Saloæn, a city in Dalmatia. Many of the verses are translated from one of the Sibyls, who prophesied of our Saviour's birth.

SICILIAN Muse, begin a loftier strain! Tho' lowly shrubs, and trees that shade the plain,

Delight not all; Sicilian Muse, prepare

To make the vocal woods deserve a consul's

care.

The last great age, foretold by sacred rhymes,
Renews its finish'd course: Saturnian times
Roll round again; and mighty years, begun
From their first orb in radiant circles run.
The base degen'rate iron offspring ends;
A golden progeny from heaven descends.
O chaste Lucina! speed the mother's pains;
And haste the glorious birth! thy own Apollo
reigns!

The lovely boy, with his auspicious face,
Shall Pollio's consulship and triumph grace:
Majestic months set out (with him) to their ap-
pointed race.

The father banish'd virtue shall restore;
And crimes shall threat the guilty world no

more.

The son shall lead the life of gods, and be
By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes

see.

The jarring nations he in peace shall bind,
And with paternal virtues rule mankind.
Unbidden earth shall wreathing ivy bring,
And fragrant herbs (the promises of spring,)
As her first off'rings to her infant king.
The goats with strutting dugs shall homeward
speed,

And lowing herds secure from lions feed.
His cradle shall with rising flow'rs be crown'd:
The serpent's brood shall die: the sacred
ground

Shall weeds and pois'nous plants refuse to bear;
Each common bush shall Syrian roses wear.
But when heroic verse his youth shall raise,
And form it to hereditary praise,
Unlabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn,
And cluster'd grapes shall blush on every thorn;
The knotted oaks shall showers of honey weep;
And thro' the matted grass the liquid gold shall
creep.

Yet, of old fraud some footsteps shall remain :
The merchant still shall plough the deep for

gain:

Great cities shall with walls be compass'd

round;

Another Helen other wars create,

And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate.
But, when to ripen'd manhood he shall grow,
The greedy sailor shall the seas forego:
No keel shall cut the waves for foreign ware;
For every soil shall every product bear.
The lab'ring hind his oxen shall disjoin :
No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruning-hook
the vine;

Nor wool shall in dissembled colour shine;
But the luxurious father of the fold

With native purple, and unborrow'd gold,
Beneath his pompous fleece shall proudly sweat;
And under Tyrian robes the lamb shall bleat.
The Fates, when they this happy web have
spun,

Shall bless the sacred clue, and bid it smoothly

run.

Mature in years, to ready honours move, O, of celestial seed! O, foster-son of Jove! See, lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain 'The nodding frame of heav'n, and earth, and main !

See to their base restor'd, earth, seas, and air; And joyful ages, from behind, in crowding ranks

appear.

To sing thy praise, would heav'n my breath prolong,

Infusing spirits worthy such a song,

Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays,

Nor Linus crown'd with never fading bays; Though each his heav'nly parent should inspire;

The Muse instruct the voice, and Phoebus tune the lyre.

Should Pan contend in verse, and thou my

theme,

Arcadian judges should their god condemn.
Begin, auspicious boy! to cast about
Thy infant eyes, and, with a smile, thy mother
single out.

Thy mother well deserves that short delight. The nauseous qualms of ten long months and travail to requite.

Then smile! the frowning infant's doom is read; No god shall crown the board, nor goddess bless the bed.

PASTORAL V.

OR,
DAPHNIS.

ARGUMENT.

Mopsus and Menalcas, two very expert shepherds at a song, begin one by consent to the memory of Daphnis, who is supposed by the best critics of

represent Julius Cæsar. Mopsus laments his death; Menalcas proclaims his divinity; the whole eclogue consisting of an elegy and an apotheosis.

MENALCAS.

SINCE on the downs our flocks together feed, And since my voice can match your tuneful reed, Why sit we not beneath the grateful shade, Which hazels, intermix'd with elms, have made ?

MOPSUS.

Whether you please that sylvan scene to take, Where whistling winds uncertain shadows make;

Or will you to the cooler cave succeed, [spread? Whose mouth the curling vines have over

MENALCAS.

Your merit and your years command the choice: Amyntas only rivals you in voice.

MOPSUS.

What will not that presuming shepherd dare, Who thinks his voice with Phoebus may compare?

MENALCAS.

Begin you first: if either Alcon's praise,
Or dying Phillis, have inspir'd your lays :
If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend,
Begin; and Tityrus your flocks shall tend.

MOPSUS..

Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat,
Which on the beech's bark I lately writ?
I writ, and sung betwixt. Now bring the swain
Whose voice you boast, and let him try the
strain.

MENALCAS.

Such as the shrub to the tall olive shows,
Or the pale sallow of the blushing rose;
Such is his voice, if I can judge aright,
Compar'd to thine in sweetness and in height.

MOPSUS.

No more, but sit, and hear the promis'd lay:
The gloomy grotto makes a doubtful day.
The nymphs about the breathless body wait
Of Daphnis, and lament his cruel fate.
The trees and floods were witness to their

tears:

At length the rumour reach'd his mother's ears. The wretched parent, with a pious haste, Came running, and his lifeless limbs embrac'd. She sigh'd, she sobb'd; and furious with despair,

She rent her garments, and she tore her hair, Accusing all the gods, and ev'ry star. [brink The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the Of running waters brought their herds to drink. The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstain'd From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd. The death of Daphnis woods and hills deplore; They cast the sound to Libya's desert shore;

The Libyan lions hear, and hearing roar.
Fierce tigers Daphnis taught the yoke to bear,
And first with curling ivy dress'd the spear.
Daphnis did rites to Bacchus first ordain,
And holy revels for his reeling train.
As vines the trees, as grapes the vines adorn,
As bulls the herds, and fields the yellow corn;
So bright a splendour, so divine a grace,
The glorious Daphnis cast on his illustrious

race.

When envious Fate the godlike Daphnis took,
Our guardian gods the fields and plains forsook:
Pales no longer swell'd the teeming grain,
Nor Phoebus fed his oxen on the plain:
No fruitful crop the sickly fields return;
But oats and darnel choke the rising corn.
And where the vales with violets once were
crown'd

Now knotty burns and thorns disgrace the ground.

Come, shepherds, come, and strew with leaves the plain;

Such fun'ral rites your Daphnis did ordain.
With cypress boughs the crystal fountains hide,
And softly let the running waters glide.
A lasting monument to Daphnis raise,
With this inscription to record his praise;
"Daphnis, the fields' delight, the shepherds'
love,

Renown'd on earth, and deifi'd above;
Whose flock excell'd the fairest on the plains,
But less than he himself surpass'd the swains."

MENALCAS.

O heav'nly poet! such thy verse appears,
So sweet, so charming to my ravish'd ears,
As to the weary swain with cares opprest,
Beneath the sylvan shade, refreshing rest;
As to the fev'rish traveller, when first
He finds a crystal stream to quench his thirst.
In singing, as in piping, you excel;
And scarce your master could perform so well.
O fortunate young man! at least your lays
Are next to his, and claim the second praise.
Such as they are, my rural songs I join,
To raise our Daphnis to the pow'rs divine;
For Daphnis was so good, to love whate'er was
mine.

MOPSUS.

How is my soul with such a promise rais'd!
For both the boy was worthy to be prais'd,
And Stimicon has often made me long
To hear, like him, so soft, so sweet a song.

MENALCAS.

Daphnis, the guest of heaven, with wond'ring eyes

Views, in the milky way, the starry skies, And far beneath him, from the shining sphere, Beholds the moving clouds, and rolling year.

His mother's milder beams, and peaceful influence.

The mountain-tops unshorn, the rocks rejoice;
The lowly shrubs partake of human voice.
Assenting Nature, with a gracious nod,
Proclaims him, and salutes the new-admitted
god.

Be still propitious, every good be thine!
Behold! four hallow'd altars we design;
And two to thee, and two to Phoebus rise;
On both is offer'd annual sacrifice.

The holy priests, at each returning year,
Two bowls of milk and two of oil shall bear ;
And I myself the guests with friendly bowls will
cheer.

Two goblets will I crown with sparkling wine,
The gen'rous vintage of the Chian vine:
These will I pour to thee, and make the nectar
thine.

In winter shall the genial feast be made
Before the fire; by summer in the shade,
Damætas shall perform the rites divine;
And Lyctian Egon in the song shall join.
Alphesibæus, tripping, shall advance,
And mimic satyrs in his antic dance,
When to the nymphs our annual rites we pay,
And when our fields with victims we survey-
While savage boars delight in shady woods,
And finny fish inhabit in the floods
While bees on thyme, and locusts feed on dew
Thy grateful swains these honours shall re-

The same that sung Neæra's conqu❜ring eyes, And, had the judge been just, had won the prize.

MOPSUS.

Accept from me this sheep-hook in exchange;
The handle brass; the knobs in equal range,
Antigenes, with kisses, often tried
To beg this present, in his beauty's pride
When youth and love are hard to be denied:
But what I could refuse to his request,
Is yours unask'd; for you deserve it best.

PASTORAL VI. OR,

SILENUS.

ARGUMENT.

Two young shepherds, Chromis and Mnasylus, having been often promised a song by Silenus, chance to catch him asleep in this pastoral; where they bind him hand and foot, and then claim his promise. Silenus, finding they would be put off no longer, begins his song, in which he describes the formation of the universe, and the original of animals, according to the Epicurean philosophy; and then runs through the most surprising transformations which have happened in Nature since her birth. This pastoral was designed as a compliment to Syron the Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in the principles of that philosophy. Silenus acts as tutor, Chromis and Mnasylus as the two pupils.

FIRST transferr'd to Rome Sicilian strains; Nor blush'd the Doric Muse to dwell on Man

tuan plains.

But when I tried her tender voice, too young,
And fighting kings and bloody battles sung,
Apollo check'd my pride, and bade me feed
My fatt'ning flocks, nor dare beyond the reed.
Admonish'd thus, while every pen prepares
To write thy praises, Varus, and thy wars,
My past'ral Muse her humble tribute brings;
And yet not wholly uninspir'd she sings:
For all who read, and, reading, not disdain
These rural poems, and their lowly strain,
The name of Varus, oft inscrib'd shall see
In ev'ry grove, and ev'ry vocal tree;
And all the sylvan reign shall sing of thee:
Thy name, to Phoebus and the muses known.
Shall in the front of ev'ry page be shown;
For, he who sings thy praise secures his own.
Proceed, my Muse!-Two Satyrs on the
ground,

Stretch'd at his ease, their sire Silenus found.
Doz'd with his fumes, and heavy with his load,
They found him snoring in his dark abode,
And seiz'd with youthful arms the drunken god.
His rosy wreath was dropt not long before,
Borne by the tide of wine, and floating on the
floor,

His empty can, with ears half worn away, Was hung on high, to boast the triumph of the day.

Invaded thus, for want of better bands,
His garland they unstring, and bind his hands,
For, by the fraudful god deluded long,
They now resolve to have their promis'd song;
Egle came in, to make their party good-
The fairest Naïs of the neighb'ring flood-
And, while he stares around with stupid eyes,
His brows with berries, and his temples, dies.
He finds the fraud, and with a smile demands,
On what design the boys had bound his hands.
"Loose me," he cried; "'t was impudence to
find

A sleeping god; 't is sacrilege to bind.
To you the promis'd poem I will pay;
The nymph shall be rewarded in her way."
He rais'd his voice, and soon a num'rous throng
Of tripping Satyrs crowded to the song;
And sylvan Fauns, and savage beasts, ad-
vanc'd ;

And nodding forests to the numbers danc'd.
Not by Hæmonian hills the Thracian bard,
Nor awful Phoebus was on Pindus heard
With deeper silence, or with more regard.
He sung the secret seeds of Nature's frame;
How seas, and earth, and air, and active flame,
Fell through the mighty void, and, in their fall,
Were blindly gather'd in this goodly ball.
The tender soil, then stiff'ning by degrees,
Shut from the bounded earth the bounding seas.
Then earth and ocean, various forms disclose;
And a new sun to the new world arose;
And mists, condens'd to clouds, obscure the
sky;
[ply.
And clouds, dissolv'd, the thirsty ground sup-
The rising trees the lofty mountains grace :
The lofty mountains feed the savage race,
Yet few, and strangers, in th' unpeopled place.
From thence the birth of man the song pursu'd,
And how the world was lost, and how renew'd:
The reign of Saturn, and the golden age;
Prometheus' theft, and Jove's avenging rage;
The cries of Argonauts for Hylas drown'd,
With whose repeated name the shores resound;
Then mourns the madness of the Cretan queen:
Happy for her if herds had never been.
What fury, wretched woman, seiz'd thy breast?
The maids of Argus (though with rage pos-
sess'd,

Their imitated lowings fill'd the grove,)
Yet shunn'd the guilt of thy prepost'rous love,
Nor sought the youthful husband of the herd,
Tho' lab' ring yokes on their own necks they
fear'd,

And felt for budding horns on their smooth foreheads rear'd.

VOL. II.-2

Ah, wretched queen! you range the pathless wood,

While on a flow'ry bank he chews the cud,
Or sleeps in shades, or through the forest roves,
And roars with anguish for his absent loves.
"Ye nymphs, with toils his forest-walk sur-
round,

And trace his wand'ring footsteps on the ground.
But, ah! perhaps my passion he disdains,
And courts the milky mothers of the plains.
We search th' ungrateful fugitive abroad,
While they at home sustain his happy load."
He sung the lover's fraud; the longing maid,
With golden fruit, like all the sex, betray'd ;
The sisters mourning for their brother's loss;
Their bodies hid in barks, and furr'd with
moss;

How each a rising alder now appears,
And o'er the Po distils her gummy tears:
Then sung, how Gallus, by a Muse's hand,
Was led and welcom❜d to the sacred strand;
The senate rising to salute their guest,
And Linus thus their gratitude express'd:
"Receive this present, by the Muses made,
The pipe on which th' Ascræan pastor play'd;
With which of old he charm'd the savage

train,

And call'd the mountain ashes to the plain.
Sing thou, on this, thy Phœbus, and the wood
Where once his fane of Parian marble stood:
On this his ancient oracles rehearse;
And with new numbers grace the god of verse."
Why should I sing the double Scylla's fate?
The first by love transform'd, the last by hate-
A beauteous maid above; but magic arts
With barking dogs deform'd her nether parts:
What vengeance on the passing fleet, sho
pour'd,

The master frighted, and the mates devour'd.
Then ravish'd Philomel the song exprest;
The crime reveal'd; the sisters' cruel feast;
And how in fields the lapwing Tereus reigns,
The warbling nightingale in woods complains:
While Procne makes on chimney-tops her
moan,

And hovers o'er the palace once her own.
Whatever songs besides the Delphian god
Had taught the laurels, and the Spartan flood
Silenus sung: the vales his voice rebound,
And carry to the skies the sacred sound.
And now the setting sun had warn'd the swain
To call his counted cattle from the plain :
Yet still th' unwearied sire pursues the tuneful
strain.

Till, unperceiv'd, the heavens with stars were hung,

And sudden night surpris'd the yet unfinish'd song.