To Mr. DODDINGTON.
HEar, DODDINGTON, the notes that thepherds fing,
Notes foft as those of nightingales in fpring:
Nor Pan, nor Phoebus tune the fhepherd's reed:
From love alone our tender lays proceed;
Love warms our fancy with enliv'ning fires,
Refines our genius, and our verfe inspires:
From him Theocritus, on Enna's plains,
Learnt the wild sweetness of his Doric ftrains;
Virgil by him was taught the moving art,
That charm'd each ear, and foften'd ev'ry heart!
O would'st thou quit the pride of courts, and deign'
To dwell with us upon the vocal plain,
Thee too his pow'r fhould reach, and ev'ry fhade
Refound the praises of thy fav'rite maid;
Thy pipe our rural concert wou'd improve,lauv yuvi
And we should learn of thee to please and love.⠀⠀
Damon no longer fought the filent fhade,
No more in unfrequented paths he stray'd,
But call'd the nymphs to hear his jocund fong,
And told his joy to all the ruftick throng.
Bleft be the hour, he faid, that happy hour, When first I own'd my Delia's gentle Pow'r; Then gloomy difcontent and pining care Forfook my breast, and left foft wishes there: Soft wishes there they left, and gay defires, Delightful languors, and tranfporting fires. Where yonder limes combine to form a fhade, These eyes first gaz'd upon the charming maid; There she appear'd, on that auspicious day, When fwains their sportive rites to Bacchus pay: She led the dance-heav'ns! with what grace she mov'd! Who cou'd have seen her then, and not have lov'd? I ftrove not to resist so sweet a flame,
But glory'd in a happy captive's name;
Nor wou'd I now, cou'd Love permit, be free,
But leave to brutes their favage liberty.
And art thou then, fond fwain, fecure of joy?
Can no reverse thy flatt'ring bliss destroy?
Has treach'rous Love no torment yet in store ?
Or haft thou never prov'd his fatal pow'r?
Whence flow'd those tears that late bedew'd thy cheek!....
Why figh'd thy heart as if it ftrove to break?
Why were the defart rocks invok'd to hear
The plaintive accents of thy fad despair?
From Delia's rigour all thofe pains arose,
Delia, who now compaffionates my woes,
Who bids me Hope; and in that charming word
Has peace and transport to my foul restor❜d.
Begin, my pipe, begin the gladfome lay;
A kifs from Delia shall thy mufick pay;
A kifs obtain'd 'twixt ftruggling and confent,
Giv'n with forc'd anger, and disguis'd content:
No laureate wreaths I ask to bind my brows,
Such as the Mufe on lofty bards bestows;
Let other fwains to praise or fame aspire:
I from her lips my recompence require.
Hark how the bees with murmurs fill the plain,
While ev'ry flow'r of every fweet they drain :
See, how beneath yon hillock's fhady fteep,
The shelter'd herds on flow'ry couches fleep:
Nor bees, nor herds, are half so blest as I,
If with my fond defires my Love comply:
From Delia's lips a fweeter honey flows,
And on her bofom dwells more foft repose.
Ah how, my dear, fhall I deferve thy charms?
What gift can bribe thee to my longing arms?
A bird for thee in filken bands I hold,
Whofe yellow plumage fhines like polish'd gold;
From diftant ifles the lovely ftranger came,
And bears the fortunate Canaries name;
In all our woods none boasts so sweet a note,
Not ev❜n the nightingale's melodious throat.
Accept of this; and cou'd I add befide,
What wealth the rich Peruvian mountains hide ;
If all the gems in Eastern rocks were mine,
On thee alone their glitt'ring pride shou'd shine.
But if thy mind no gifts have pow'r to move,
Phoebus himself shall leave th' Aonian grove;
The tuneful Nine, who never fue in vain,
Shall come sweet fuppliants for their fav'rite fwain.
For him each blue-ey'd Naiad of the flood,
For him each green-hair'd fister of the wood,
Whom oft beneath fair Cynthia's gentle ray
His mufick calls to dance the night away.
And you, fair nymphs, companions of my love;
With whom the joys the cowflip meads to rove,
I beg you recommend my faithful flame,
And let her often hear her fhepherd's name;
Shade all my faults from her enquiring fight,
And fhew my merits in the faireft light;
My pipe your kind affiftance fhall repay,
And ev'ry friend shall claim a diff'rent lay.
But fee in yonder glade the heav'nly fair
Enjoys the fragrance of the breezy air
Ah, thither let me fly with eager feet;
Adieu, my pipe, I go my love to meet-
O may I find her as we parted laft,
may each future hour be like the past! So fhall the whiteft lamb these pastures feed, Fropitious Venus, on thy altars bleed.
HE gods, O WALPOLE, give no bliss fincere:
TWealth is difturb'd by care, and pow'r by fear.
Of all the Paffions that employ the mind,
In gentle Love the sweetest joys we find ;
Yet e'en thofe joys dire Jealousy molefts,
And blackens cach fair image in our breasts.
O may the warmth of thy too tender heart
Ne'er feel the sharpness of his venom'd dart pin'vs InA
For thy own quiet think thy mistress just,
And wifely take thy happiness on trufti
Begin my Mufe, and Damon's woes rehearfe,
In wildest numbers and diforder'd verfe.
On a romantick mountain's airy head
(While browzing goats at eafe around him fed) 19.3
Anxious he lay, with jealous cares opprefs'd; vst .II
Diftruft and anger lab'ring in his breast-
The vale beneath a pleafing profpect yields,
Of verdant meads and cultivated fields;
Through these a river rolls its winding flood,
Adorn'd' with various tufts of rifing wood;
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