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Η Ε Α Σ Τ Η.
BY PARNE L L.
Now early shepherds o'er the meadows pass,
When Damon softly trod the shaven lawn,
Here, wafted o'er by mild Etesian air, Thou country Goddefs, beauteous Health! repair, Here let my breast through quiv'ring trees inhale Thy rosy blessings with the morning gale. What are the fields, or flow'rs, or all I fee: Ah! tastelefs all, if not enjoy'd with thee.
Joy to my soul! I feel the goddess nigh, The face of nature cheers as well as 1; O'er the flat green refreshing breezes run, The smiling daisies blow beneath the sun, The brooks run purling down with silver waves, The planted lanes rejoice with dancing leaves, The chirping birds from all the compass rove To tempt the tuneful echoes of the grove: High sunny summits, deeply shaded dales, Thick mossy banks, and flow'ry winding vales, With various prospects gratify the fight, And scatter fix'd attention in delight.
Come, country Goddess, come, nor thou fuffice, But bring thy mountain fister, Exercise : Call’d by thy lovely voice, she turns her pace, Her winding horn proclaims the finish'd chace; She mounts the rocks, she skims the level plain, Dogs, hawks and horses, crowd her early train: Her hardy face repels the tanning wind, And lines and mefhes loosely float behind. All these as means of toil the feeble fee, But these are helps to pleasure join'd with thee.
Let Noth lie soft'ning 'till high noon in down, Or-lolling fan her in the sultry town, Unnery'd with rest; and turn her own disease, Or fofter others in luxurious ease: I mount the courser, call the deep-mouth'd hounds, The fox unkennell’d Aies to covert grounds;
I lead where stags through tangled thickets tread,
Oh come, thou Goddess of my rural song!
Now friends conversing my soft hours refine,