To Jove the care of heaven and earth belongs;
My flocks he bleffes, and he loves my fongs.

MEN. Me Phoebus loves; for he my Mufe in-
fpires;

And in her fongs, the warmth he gave, requires.
For him the god of fhepherds and their sheep,
My blushing hyacinths and my bays I keep.
DAM. My Phyllis me with pelted apples plies,
Then tripping to the woods the wanton hies:
And wishes to be seen, before the flies.

MEN. But fair Amyntas comes unask'd to me,
And offers love; and fits upon my knee:
Not Delia to my dogs is known fo well as he.

DAM. To the dear mistress of my love-fick mind, Her fwain a pretty prefent has defign'd:

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105

I faw two stock-doves billing, and ere long
Will take the neft, and hers fhall be the young.
MEN. Ten ruddy wildings in the wood I found,
And flood on tip-toes, reaching from the ground;
I fent Amyntas all my present ftore;

And will, to-morrow, fend as many more.

DAM. The lovely maid lay panting in my arms; And all the faid and did was full of charms. Winds, on your wings to heaven her accents bear! Such words as heaven alone is fit to hear.

MEN. Ah! what avails it me, my love's delight, 115 To call you mine, when absent from my fight! I hold the nets, while you pursue the prey; And muft not share the dangers of the day.

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DAM

DAM. I keep my birth-day: fend my Phillis home; At fhearing-time, Iolas, you may come.

120

MEN. With Phyllis I am more in grace than you:
Her forrow did my parting fteps pursue:
Adieu, my dear, fhe faid, a long adieu!

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DAM. The nightly wolf is baneful to the fold, Storms to the wheat, to buds the bitter cold; But from my frowning fair, more ills I find Than from the wolves, and storms, and winter-wind. MEN. The kids with pleafure browse the bufhy plain,

The fhowers are grateful to the fwelling grain:

To teeming ewes the fallow's tender tree;
But more than all the world my love to me.

DAM. Pollio my rural verfe vouchfafes to read:

A heifer, Mufes, for your patron breed.

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MEN. My Pollio writes himfelf; a bull he bred With spurning heels, and with a butting head. DAM. Who Pollio loves, and who his Mufe ad

mires,

Let Pollio's fortune crown his full defires.
Let myrrh instead of thorn his fences fill;

And showers of honey from his oaks diftil.

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MEN. Who hates not living Bavius, let him be 140 (Dead Mævius) damn'd to love thy works and thee: The fame ill taste of sense would serve to join Dog-foxes in the yoke, and fhear the fwine.

DAM. Ye boys who pluck the flowers, and spoil the fpring,

Beware the fecret snake that shoots a fting.

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ΜΕΝ.

MEN. Graze not too near the banks, my jolly fheep, The ground is falfe, the running ftreams are deep: See, they have caught the father of the flock, Who dries his fleece upon the neighbouring rock. DAM. From rivers drive the kids, and fling your

hook;

Anon I'll wash them in the fhallow brook.

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MEN. To fold, my flock; when milk is dry'd with

heat,

In vain the milk-maid tugs an empty teat.

DAM. How lank my bulls from plenteous pafture come!

But love, that drains the herd, destroys the groom. 155 MEN. My flocks are free from love; yet look fo

thin,

Their bones are barely cover'd with their skin.
What magic has bewitch'd the wooly dams,

And what ill eyes beheld the tender lambs?

DAM. Say, where the round of heaven which all

contains,

To three short ells on earth our fight restrains:

160

Tell that, and rise a Phœbus for thy pains.

MEN. Nay, tell me firft, in what new region

fprings

A flower that bears infcrib'd the names of kings:

And thou fhalt gain a prefent as divine

As Phœbus' felf; for Phyllis fhall be thine.

PAL. So nice a difference in your finging lies,

That both have won, or both deferv'd, the prize.

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165

Reft,

Reft equal happy both; and all who prove
The bitter fweets and pleafing pains of love.
Now dam the ditches, and the floods reftrain:
Their moisture has already drench'd the plain.

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THE

THE ARGUMENT.

The Poet celebrates the birth-day of Salonius, the fon of Pollio, born in the confulfhip of his father, after the taking of Solonæ, a city in Dalmatia. Many of the verses are translated from one of the Sibyls, who prophefied of our Saviour's birth.

SICILIAN Mufe, begin a loftier strain!

Though lowly fhrubs and trees that shade the plain, Delight not all; Sicilian Mufe, prepare

To make the vocal woods deferve a conful's care.
The last great age, foretold by facred rhymes,
Renews its finish'd courfe; Saturnian times
Roll round again, and mighty years, begun
From their first orb, in radiant circles run.
The base degenerate iron offspring ends;
A golden progeny from heaven descends:

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ΙΟ

O chafte