PASTORALS.
23
O, peaceful may thy gentle spirit, rest!
The flowery turf ly, light upon thy breast;
Nor shrieking owl, nor bat, thy tomb fly round,
Nor midnight goblins revel o'er the ground, 88
The flowery turf ly, light upon thy breast;
Nor shrieking owl, nor bat, thy tomb fly round,
Nor midnight goblins revel o'er the ground, 88
PALIN.
No more, mistaken Angelot, complain:
Albino lives; and all our tears are vain:
Albino lives, and will, for ever live
With Myriads mixt, who never know to grieve, 92
Who welcome every stranger-guest, nor fear
Ever to mourn his absence with a tear,
Where cold, nor heat, nor irksome toil annoy,
Nor age, nor sickness, comes to damp their joy: 96
And now the royal Nymph, who bore him, deigns
The land to rule, and shield the simple swains,
While, from above, propitious he looks down:
For this, the welkin does no longer frown, 100
Each planet shines, indulgent, from his sphere,
And we renew our pastimes with the year.
Hills, dales, and woods, with thrilling pipes resound;
The boys and virgins dance, with chaplets crown'd, 104
And hail Albino blest: the valleys ring
Albino blest! O now, if ever, bring
No more, mistaken Angelot, complain:
Albino lives; and all our tears are vain:
Albino lives, and will, for ever live
With Myriads mixt, who never know to grieve, 92
Who welcome every stranger-guest, nor fear
Ever to mourn his absence with a tear,
Where cold, nor heat, nor irksome toil annoy,
Nor age, nor sickness, comes to damp their joy: 96
And now the royal Nymph, who bore him, deigns
The land to rule, and shield the simple swains,
While, from above, propitious he looks down:
For this, the welkin does no longer frown, 100
Each planet shines, indulgent, from his sphere,
And we renew our pastimes with the year.
Hills, dales, and woods, with thrilling pipes resound;
The boys and virgins dance, with chaplets crown'd, 104
And hail Albino blest: the valleys ring
Albino blest! O now, if ever, bring
The
