PASTORALS.
13
Why sit we mute when early Linnets sing,
When warbling Philomel salutes the spring?
Why sit we sad when Phosphor shines so clear,
And lavish nature paints the purple year?
When warbling Philomel salutes the spring?
Why sit we sad when Phosphor shines so clear,
And lavish nature paints the purple year?
STREPHON.
Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain,
While yon' slow Oxen turn the furrow'd plain.
Here on green banks the blushing vi'lets glow;
Here western winds on breathing roses blow.
I'll stake my lamb that near the fountain plays,
And from the brink his dancing shade surveys.
Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain,
While yon' slow Oxen turn the furrow'd plain.
Here on green banks the blushing vi'lets glow;
Here western winds on breathing roses blow.
I'll stake my lamb that near the fountain plays,
And from the brink his dancing shade surveys.
DAPHNIS.
And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines,
And swelling clusters bend the curling vines:
Four figures rising from the work appear,
The various Seasons of the rowling year;
And what is that, which binds the radiant sky,
Where twelve bright Signs in beauteous order lie?
And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines,
And swelling clusters bend the curling vines:
Four figures rising from the work appear,
The various Seasons of the rowling year;
And what is that, which binds the radiant sky,
Where twelve bright Signs in beauteous order lie?
DAMON.
