A PASTORAL ODE, To the Honourable Sir RICHARD LYTTELTON. TH HE morn difpens'd a dubious light, A Each pleafing vale and hill; When DAMON left his humble bowers To guard his flocks, to fence his flowers, Tho' school'd from fortune's paths to fly, That he, in fylvan fhades, forlorn! No friend to fame's obftreperous noife, The pleasures he thro' choice declin'd, Griev'd Griev'd him to lurk the lakes befide, But fee, the radiant fun once more And more to gild his rural sphere, Amazement chill'd the fhepherd's frame, That fhe, on all whofe motions wait Should rove where fhepherds dwell. But true it is, the generous mind, Amid the defart plain, The Duchess of BRIDGEWATER, married to Sir RICHARD LYTTELTON, Befeems 1 Befeems it fuch, with honour crown'd, At moft fuch garlands from the field, Yet strive, ye fhepherds, ftrive to find, If haply thus yon lovely fair May round their temples deign to wear O how the peaceful halcyons play'd, How did the sprightlier linnets throng, LO, DARTMOUTH on those banks reclin'd, While bufy fancy calls to mind The glories of his line; Methinks my cottage rears its head, The ruin'd walls of yonder shed, As thro' enchantment, shine. * $tsp. be, ar originally written, DENBIGH: Dartmonth is mention. But below, p. 180. But who the nymph that guides their way? So would fome tuberofe delight, All as at eve, the fovereign flower, Ah, now no more, the fhepherd cry'd, Her fubtle force difown; No more of fawns or fairies dream, By low-brow'd rock, or pathlefs mead, But who, alas! will dare contend, If beauty add, or merit blend Its more illuftrious ray? Jauns VOL. I. N Nor Nor is it long-O plaintive swain! Scarce faded is the vernal flower, Since STAMFORD left his honour'd bower O form'd by nature to disclose How fair that courtefy which flows From focial warmth fincere. Nor yet have many moons decay'd, The nobleft breast that virtue fires, Say THOMSON here was known to rest, Ah, never to return! In place of wit, and melting ftrains, To weep befide his urn. They were school-fellows. Come |