DAMON.

A

PASTORA L.'

[WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN.]

BY ALEXANDER POPE, ESQ.*

TO SIR WILLIAM TRUMBAL.

FIRST in these fields I try the fylvan strains,
Nor blush to sport on Windfor's blissful plains:
Fair Thames, flow gently from thy facred spring,
While on thy banks Sicilian Muses fing;
Let vernal airs through trembling ofiers play, 5
And Albion's cliffs refound the rural lay.

You that, too wife for pride, too good for pow's,
Enjoy the glory to be great no more,
And, carrying with you all the world can boast,
To all the world illuftriously are loft!

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O let my Muse her slender reed inspire,
Till in your native fhades you tune the lyre:
So when the Nightingale to reft removes,
The Thrush may chant to the forfaken groves,
But charm'd to filence, liftens while fhe fings, 15
And all th' aërial audience clap their wings.

Soon as the flocks fhook off the nightly dews, TwoSwains,whom Love kept wakeful, and the Mufe,

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Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care,
Fresh as the morn, and as the season fair:
The dawn now blushing on the mountain's fide,
Thus Daphnis fpoke, and Strephon thus reply'd.

DAPHNIS.

Hear how the birds, on every bloomy spray, With joyous mufick wake the dawning day! Why fit we mute, when early linnets fing, When warbling Philomel falutes the spring? Why fit we fad, when Phosphor shines fo clear, And lavish Nature paints the purple year?

STREPHON.

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Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon' flow oxen turn the furrow'd plain. 30 Here the bright crocus and blue vi'let glow ; Here western winds on breathing roses blow. I'll stake yon' lamb, that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing fhade furveys.

DAPHNIS.

And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, 35 And fwelling clusters bend the curling vines: Four figures rifing from the work appear, The various feafons of the rolling year; And what is that, which binds the radiant sky, Where twelve fair figns in beauteous order lie?

DAMON.

Then fing by turns, by turns the Muses fing, Now hawthorns blossom, now the daifies spring, Now leaves the trees, and flow'rs adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall ev'ry note rebound.

STREPHON.

Inspire me, Phœbus, in my Delia's praise, 45 With Waller's ftrains, or Granville's moving lays! A milk-white bull thall at your altars ftand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand.

DAPHNIS.

O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes; 50 No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, fhall be the shepherd's heart.

STREPHON.

Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then, hid in fhades, eludes her eager fwain; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, 55 And by that laugh the willing fair is found.

DAPHNIS.

The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green, She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen; While a kind glance at her pursuer flies,

How much at variance are her feet and eyes! 60

STREPHON.

O'er golden fands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Bleft Thames's fhores the brightest beauties yield, Feed here my lambs, I'll feek no distant field.

DAPHNIS.

Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves;
Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves;

If Windsor shades delight the matchless maid,
Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windfor-fhade.

STREPHON.

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All nature mourns, the skies relent in fhow'rs, Hufh'd are the birds, and clos'd the drooping flow'rs; If Delia smile, the flow'rs begin to spring, The skies to brighten, and the birds to fing.

DAPHNIS.

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All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair, The fun's mild luftre warms the vital air;

If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, 75 And vanquish'd nature seems to charm no more.

STREPHON.

In fpring the fields, in autumn hills I love, At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove, But Delia always; absent from her fight, Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight.

DAPHNIS.

Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; E'en spring displeases, when the fhines not here; But, blefs'd with her, 'tis fpring throughout the year.

STREPHON.

Say, Daphnis, fay, in what glad foil appears, A wondrous Tree that facred Monarchs bears: 86 Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, And give the conqueft to thy Sylvia's eyes.

DAPHNIS.

Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields The Thistle springs, to which the Lilly yields: 90 And then a nobler prize I will refign;

For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, fhall be thine.

DAMON.

Ceafe to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree, The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee: Bleft Swains, whofe Nymphs in every grace excel; Bleft Nymphs,whofe Swains those graces fing fo well! Now rife, and hafte to yonder woodbine bowers, A foft retreat from fudden vernal showers; The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd, While op'ning blooms diffuse their sweets around. For fee! the gath'ring flocks to fhelter tend, And from the Pleiads fruitful fhow'rs defcend.