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PASTORALS.
21
Then might my voice thy listning ears employ,
And I those kisses he receives, enjoy.
And yet my numbers please the rural throng,
Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song:
The Nymphs forsaking ev'ry cave and spring,
Their early fruit, and milk-white Turtles bring;
Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain,
On you their gifts are all bestow'd again!
For you the swains the fairest flow'rs design,
And in one garland all their beauties join;
Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compriz'd in one.
See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!
Descending Gods have found Elyzium here.
In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd,
And chaste Diana haunts the forest-shade.
Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours,
When swains from sheering seek their nightly bow'rs;
When weary reapers quit the sultry field,
And crown'd with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield.
And I those kisses he receives, enjoy.
And yet my numbers please the rural throng,
Rough Satyrs dance, and Pan applauds the song:
The Nymphs forsaking ev'ry cave and spring,
Their early fruit, and milk-white Turtles bring;
Each am'rous nymph prefers her gifts in vain,
On you their gifts are all bestow'd again!
For you the swains the fairest flow'rs design,
And in one garland all their beauties join;
Accept the wreath which you deserve alone,
In whom all beauties are compriz'd in one.
See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!
Descending Gods have found Elyzium here.
In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray'd,
And chaste Diana haunts the forest-shade.
Come, lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours,
When swains from sheering seek their nightly bow'rs;
When weary reapers quit the sultry field,
And crown'd with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield.
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