And stormy winds are heard, think winter near, Nor trust too far to the declining year. HOBBINOL. Woe, then, alack! befall the spendthrift swain, When frost, and fnow, and hail, and fleet, and rain, By turns chastise him, while, through little care, His sheep, unshelter'd, pine in nipping air. LANQUET. 40 The lad of forecast then untroubled fees The white-bleak plains, and filvery frosted trees: He fends his flock, and, clad in homely frize, In his warm cott the wintery blaft defies. HOBBINOL. Full fain, O bless'd Eliza! would I praise 45 Thy maiden-rule, and Albion's golden days: Then gentle Sidney liv'd, the shepherd's friend. Eternal bleffings on his fhade attend. LANQUET. Thrice happy fhepherds now! for Dorset loves The country-mufe, and our refounding groves, While Anna reigns: O, ever may she reign! 51 And bring, on earth, the golden age again. HOBBINOL. I love, in fecret all, a beauteous maid, And have my love, in fecret all, repaid; This coming night she plights her troth to me: LANQUET. Mild as the lamb, unharmful as the dove, HOBBINOL. Soft on a cowflip-bank my love and I Together lay; a brook ran murmuring by: A thousand tender things to me she said; And I a thousand tender things repaid. LANQUET. 56 60 In fummer-fhade, behind the cocking hay, 65 What kind endearing words did she not fay! Her lap, with apron deck'd, she fondly spread, And ftrok'd my cheek, and lull'd my leaning head. HOBBINOL. Breathe foft, ye winds; ye waters, gently flow; Shield her, ye trees; ye flowers, around her grow: Ye fwains, I beg you, pafs in filence by ; My love, in yonder vale, afleep does lie. LANQUET. Once Delia slept on eafy mofs reclin❜d, Her lovely limbs half bare, and rude the wind: 71 I fmooth'd her coats, and ftole a filent kifs: HOBBINOL. 75 As Marian bath'd, by chance I paffed by ; She blush'd, and at me cast a fidelong eye: Then, cowering in the treacherous stream, she try'd Her tempting form, yet ftill in vain, to hide. 80 LANQUET. As I, to cool me, bath'd one fultry day, Fond Lydia, lurking, in the fedges lay: The wanton laugh'd, and feem'd in haste to fly, Yet oft she stopt, and oft she turn'd her eye. HOBBINOL. When first I faw, would I had never feen, 85 Young Lyfet lead the dance on yonder green, Intent upon her beauties, as she mov'd, Poor heedlefs wretch! at unawares I lov'd. LANQUET. When Lucy decks with flowers her fwelling breaft, And on her elbow leans, diffembling rest, Unable to refrain my madding mind, Nor herds, nor pasture, worth my care I find. HOBBINOL. Come Rofalind, O come! for, wanting thee, Our peopled vale a desert is to me. 90 Come, Rofalind, O come! My brinded kine, My fnowy sheep, my farm, and all, are thine. LANQUET. Come, Rofalind, O come! Here fhady bowers, Here are cool fountains, and here springing flowers, Come, Rofalind! Here ever let us stay, And sweetly wafte the live-long time away. HOBBINOL. 100 In vain the feafons of the moon I know, The force of healing herbs, and where they grow: No herb there is, no season, to remove From my fond heart the racking pains of love. LANQUET. 1c6 What profits me, that I in charms have skill, And ghofts, and goblins, order as I will, Yet have, with all my charms, no power to lay The sprite that breaks my quiet night and day? HOBBINOL. 110 O, that, like Colin, I had skill in rhimes, To purchase credit with fucceeding times! Sweet Colin Clout! who never, yet, had peer; Who fung through all the feafons of the year. LANQUET. Let me, like Merlin, fing: his voice had power To free the 'clipfing moon at midnight hour: And, as he fung, the fairies with their queen, HOBBINOL. green. Laft eve of May did I not hear them fing, And fee their dance? And I can fhew the ring, Where, hand in hand, they fhift their feet fo light: The grafs fprings greener from their tread by night. LANQUET. But haft thou feen their king, in rich array, Fam'd Oberon, with damask'd robe so gay, And gemmy crown, by moonshine sparkling far, And azure scepter, pointed with a star? GERON. Here end your pleasing strife. Both victors are; And both with Colin may, in rhyme, compare. A boxen hautboy, loud, and fweet of found, All varnish'd, and with brazen ringlets bound, To each I give. A mizling mist descends Adown that steepy rock: and this way tends 130 Yon diftant rain. Shoreward the vessels strive; And, fee, the boys their flocks to fhelter drive. |