COL. Small need there was, in random search of gain, To drive my pining flock athwart the plain To distant Cam. Fine gain at length, I trow, To hoard up to myself such deal of woe! My sheep quite spent through travel and ill fare, And, like their keeper, ragged grown and bare, The damp cold greensward for my nightly bed, And some slant willow's trunk to rest my head. Hard is to bear of pinching cold the pain, And hard is want to the unpractis'd swain; But neither want nor pinching cold is hard, To blasting storms of calumny compar❜d: Unkind as hail it falls; the pelting show'r Destroys the tender herb and budding flow'r THEN. Slander we shepherds count the vilest wrong; And what wounds sorer than an evil tongue ?! COL. Untoward lads, the wanton imps of spite, Make mock of all the ditties I indite. 90 In vain, O Colinet! thy pipe so shrill ༅ ཝཱ ཐཱ་ Charms ev'ry vale and gladdens ev'ry hill, In vain thou seek'st the cov'rings of the grove, In the cool shade to sing the pains of love; Sing what thou wilt, ill nature will prevail, And ev'ry elf hath skill enough to rail: But yet tho' poor and artless be my vein, Menaicas seems to like my simple strain; And while that he delighteth in my song, Which to the good Menalcas doth belong,

THEN. Nor fox nor wolf, nor rot among our sheep; From these good shepherd's care his flock may keep; Against ill-luck, alas! all forecast fails,

Nor toil by day nor watch by night avails.

COL. Ah me the while! ah me the luckless day!
Ah luckless lad! befits me more to say:
Unhappy hour when fresh in youthful bud
I left, Sabrina fair, thy silv'ry flood!
Ah silly I! more silly than my sheep,

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Which on thy flow'ry banks I wont to keep.

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Sweet are thy banks! Oh! when shall I once more
With ravish'd eyes review thine 'amell'd shore?
When in the crystal of thy water scan
Each feature faded, and my colour wan?
When shall I see my hut, the small abode
Myself did raise and cover o'er with sod?
Small tho' it be, a mean and humble cell,
Yet is there room for Peace and me to dwell.
THEN. And what enticement charm'd thee far away
From thy lov'd home, and led thy heart astray?
COL. A lewd desire strange lands and swains to know:
Ah God! that ever I should covet woe!

With wand'ring feet unblest, and fond of fame,

I sought I know not what besides a name.

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THEN. Or sooth to say, didst thou not hither roars In search of gains more plenty than at home? A rolling stone is ever bare of moss;

COL. Small need there was, in random search of gain, To drive my pining flock athwart the plain To distant Cam. Fine gain at length, I trow, To hoard up to myself such deal of woe!

90

My sheep quite spent through travel and ill fare,
And, like their keeper, ragged grown and bare,
The damp cold greensward for my nightly bed,
And some slant willow's trunk to rest my head.
Hard is to bear of pinching cold the pain,
And hard is want to the unpractis'd swain ;
But neither want nor pinching cold is hard,
To blasting storms of calumny compar❜d:
Unkind as hail it falls; the pelting show'r
Destroys the tender herb and budding flow'r.
THEN. Slander we shepherds count the vilest wrong;
And what wounds sorer than an evil tongue ? 21
COL. Untoward lads, the wanton imps of spite,

Make mock of all the ditties I indite. 997 S
In vain, O Colinet! thy pipe so shrill
Charms ev'ry vale and gladdens ev'ry hill,
In vain thou seek'st the cov'rings of the grove,
In the cool shade to sing the pains of love;
Sing what thou wilt, ill nature will prevail,
And ev'ry elf hath skill enough to rail:
But yet tho' poor and artless be my vein,
Menaicas seems to like my simple strain;
And while that he delighteth in my song,
Which to the good Menalcas doth belong,

༞།

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Nor night nor day shall my ruce music cease:
I ask no more so I Menalcas please.

THEN, Menalcas, lord of these fair fertile plains,
Preserves the sheep and o'er the shepherds reigns;
For him our yearly wakes and feasts we hold,
And chuse the fairest firstling from the fold:
He, good to all who good descrye, shall give
Thy flock to feed and thee at ease to live,
Shall curb the malice of unbridled tongues,
And bounteously reward thy rural songs.

COL. First then shall lightsome birds forget to fly, The briny ocean turn to pastures dry, And ev'ry rapid river cease to flow, Ere I unmindful of Menalcas grow,

THEN. This night thy care with me forget, and fold Thy flock with mine to ward th' injurious cold: 139 New milk and clouted cream, mild cheese and curd, With some remaining fruit of last year's hoard, Shall be our ev'ning fare, and for the night Sweet herbs and moss, which gentle, sleep invite, And now behold the sun's departing ray O'er yonder hill, the sign of ebbing day; With songs the jovial hinds return from plough, And unyok'd heifers loit'ring homeward low.

·PASTORAL III.

ALBINO.

WHEN Virgil thought no shame the Doric reed
To tune, and flocks on Mantuan plains to feed,
With young Augustus' name he grac'd his song;
And Spenser, when amid the rural throng
He caroll'd sweet and graz'd ́along the flood
Of gentle Thames, made evry sounding wood
With good Eliza's name to ring around;
Eliza's name on ev'ry tree was found.

Since then thro' Anna's cares at ease we live, 1 And see our cattle unmolested thrive,

While from our Albion her victorious arms
Drive wasteful warfare, loud in dire alarms,
Like them will I my slender music raise,
And teach the vocal vallies Anna's praise;
Meantime on-oaten pipe a lowly lay,

As my kids browse, obscure in shades, I play;
Yet not obscure while Dorset thinks no scorn
To visit woods and swains ignobly born.

Two valley swains, both musical, both young,
In friendship mutual, and united long,'

Retire within a mossy cave, to shun

The crowd of shepherds and the noon-day sun :

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