PASTORALS.
17
Nor night, nor day, shall my rude musick cease;
I ask no more, so I Menalcas please. 116
I ask no more, so I Menalcas please. 116
THENOT.
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 choose the fairest firstling from the fold: 120
He, good to all, who Good deserve, 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. 124
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 choose the fairest firstling from the fold: 120
He, good to all, who Good deserve, 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. 124
COLINET.
First, then, shall lightsome birds forget to fly,
The briny ocean turn to pastures dry,
And every rapid river cease to flow,
E're I unmindful of Menalcas grow. 128
First, then, shall lightsome birds forget to fly,
The briny ocean turn to pastures dry,
And every rapid river cease to flow,
E're I unmindful of Menalcas grow. 128
ΤHENOT.
This night thy care with me forget, and fold
Thy flock with mine, to ward th' injurious cold.
New milk, and clouted cream, mild cheese and curd,
With some remaining fruit of last year's hoard, 132
Shall be our evening fare, and, for the night,
Sweet herbs and moss, which gentle sleep invite:
This night thy care with me forget, and fold
Thy flock with mine, to ward th' injurious cold.
New milk, and clouted cream, mild cheese and curd,
With some remaining fruit of last year's hoard, 132
Shall be our evening fare, and, for the night,
Sweet herbs and moss, which gentle sleep invite:
And
