PASTORALS.
17
DAPHNIS.
Nay tell me first, in what more happy fields
The Thistle springs, to which the Lilly yields?
And then a nobler prize I will resign,
For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine.
Nay tell me first, in what more happy fields
The Thistle springs, to which the Lilly yields?
And then a nobler prize I will resign,
For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine.
DAMON.
Cease to contend, for (Daphnis) I decree
The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee:
Blest Swains, whose Nymphs in ev'ry grace excell,
Blest Nymphs, whose Swains those graces sing so well!
Now rise and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs,
A soft retreat from sudden vernal show'rs;
The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd,
While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around.
For see! the gath'ring flocks to shelter tend,
And from the Pleiads fruitful show'rs descend.
Cease to contend, for (Daphnis) I decree
The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee:
Blest Swains, whose Nymphs in ev'ry grace excell,
Blest Nymphs, whose Swains those graces sing so well!
Now rise and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs,
A soft retreat from sudden vernal show'rs;
The turf with rural dainties shall be crown'd,
While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around.
For see! the gath'ring flocks to shelter tend,
And from the Pleiads fruitful show'rs descend.
SUMMER.
