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Farewell, ye streams, which once I loved dear;
Come, fadder pipe; farewell, my merry note : Till better times afford thee better frate :
My Thomalin, with thee all sweetness dwell; Then may'd thou follow well thy guiding fate, Think of thy Thirsil, Thirfil loves thee well. So live thou here with peace and quiet bleft ; Thomalin, my dearek dear, my Thomalin, farewell So let thy love afford thee case and reft ; 30 let thy sweetest foe re-cure thy wounded
Ah, hapless boy, the fisher's joy and pride!
Ah, wo is us, we cannot help thy wo! But thou, proud Chame, which thus halt wrought Our pity vain : ill may that swain beride me spite,
Whose undeserved spite hath wrong'd thee fo. some greater river drown thy hated name! Thirsil, with theç our joy and wishes go.
Let never myrtle on thy banks delight;
Myrtilus. Crown thy ungrateful Thores with scora and Dorus, some greater power prevents thy curse : fhame!
So vile, fo balely lives that hateful (wain; Let dirt and mud thy lazy wacers seize ;
So base, so vile, that none can with him worfe. Thy weeds (till grow, thy waters till decrease : But Thirlil much a better ftate doch gain ; Nar let thy wretched love to Gripus ever cease! For never will he find so thapkless main.
A HSHERLAD (no higher dares he look), His blubber'd face was temper'd to the day;
Thick clouds upon his wat’ry eye-brows lay,
There, as his boat late in the river stray'd, “ You sea-born maids, that in the ocean reign,
But know'st not one to cure a love Gick heart; All other fair, all other love defies,
See here a wound, that far outgoes thy art. In Celia he lives, for Celia dies.
Your stately feas (perhaps with love's fire) glow, Nor durft the coward won his high defiring, And over-seeth their banks with springing tide ; (For low he was, lower himself accounts: Must'ring their white-plum'd waves with lordly And she the highest height in werth surmounts;)
pride, But fits alone in hell, his heaven admiring : They foon retire, and lay their curl'd heads low; And thinks with fighs to fan, but blows his firing. So linking in themselves they backward go : Nor Jocs he ftrive to cure his painful wound; But in my breast full feas of grief remain, 2or sil! :bis kickness never was he found.
Which ever dow, and never cbb ayain.
How well, fair Thetis, in thy glass I see, Who taught thy honied tongue the cunning As in a crystal, all my raging pains !
Night Late thy green fields slept in their even plains, To melt the ravish'd ear with music's strains ? While smiling heav'ns spread round a canopy : And charm the sense with thousand pleasing pains? Now loft with blaits and civil enmity,
And yet, like thunder roll'd in flames and night, While whistling winds blow trumpets to their | To break the rived heart with fear and fright? fight,
How rules therein thy breast so quiet state, And roaring waves, as drums, whet on their spite. Spite leagu'd with mercy, love with loveless hate ?
Such cruel storms my restless heart command: Ah, no, fair Celia ! in thy sun-like eye Late thousand joys securely lodged there,
Heaven sweetly smiles; those stars, soft loving fire, Ne fear'd I then to care, ne car'd to fear :
And living heat, not burning flames, inspire : But pull'd the prison'd fishes to the land;
Love's self enthron'd in thy brow's ivory, Or (spite of winds) pip'd on the golden Sand : And every grace in heaven's livery. But since love sway'd my breast, these feas alarms My wants, not thine, me in despairing drown : Are but dead pictures of my raging harms. When hell prefumes, no mar'l if heavens frowa.
Love stirs defire ; defire, like stormy wind, Those graceful tunes, issuing from glorious Blows up high-swelling waves of hope and fear:
spheres, Hope on his top my trembling heart doth bear Ravish the ear and soul with stange delight, Up to my heaven, but straight my lofty mind, And with sweet nectar fill the thirsty sprite; By fear funk in despair, deep drown'd I find. Thy honied tongue, charming the melted ears, But, ah! your tempests cannot last for ever; Stills stormy hearts, and quiets frights and fears: But, ah! my storms (I fear) will leave me never. My daring heart provokes thee ; and no wonder,
When carth fo high aspires, if heaven thunder. Hapless and fond ! too fond, more hapless swain, Who lovest where th' art scorn'd, scorn'ft where See, fee, fair Celia, seas are calmly laid, th' art lov d:
And end their boist'rous threats in quiet peace; Or learn to hate where thou hast hatred prov'd; The waves their drums, the winds their trumpets Or learn to love where thou art lov'd again :
cease : Ah, cease to love, or cease to woo thy pain! But my fick love (ah love but ill appay'd), Thy love thus scorn'd is hell; do not so carn it ; Never can hope his storms may be allay'd; At least, learn by forgetting to unlearn it. But giving to his rage no end or leisure,
Still restless rests : love knows no mean nor metAh, fond and hapless swain! but much more fure. fond,
IVIII. How canst unlearn, by learning to forget it ; Fond boy, he juftly scorns thy proud desire, When thought of what thou should's unlearn does While thou with singing wouldīt forget thy pain : whet it ;
Go strive to empty the still-flowing main : And surer ties thy mind in captive bond ? Go fuel seek to quench thy growing fire : Canst thou unlearn a ditty thou hast con'd? Ah, foolish boy ! scorn is thy music's hire. Canst thou forget a song by oft repeating ? Drown then these flames in seas : but ah! I fear Thus much more wilt thou learn by thy forgetting. To fire the main, and to want water there. Hapless and fond! most fond, more hapless There first thy heaven I saw, there felt my hell; swain !
The smooth calm seas rais'd storms of fierce de Seeing thy rooted love will leave thee never, (She hates thy love), love thou her hate for There cooling waters kindled burning fires,
Nor can the ocean quench them in thy cell, In vain thou hop'lt; hope yet, though still in vain : Full stor'd of pleasures, all my pleasures fell. Joy in thy grief, and triumph in thy pain : Die then, fond lad : ah, well my death may please And though reward exceedeth thy aspiring,
thee! Live in her love, and die in her admiring. But love, thy love, not life, not death, mult case
Fair, cruel maid ! most cruel, fairer ever, How hath foul rigour stoln into thy heart?
So down hc swooning links, nor can remote, And, on a comic ftage, hath learn'd thee art Till fisher-boys (fond filher-boys) revive him, To play a tyrant tragical deceiver?
And back again his life and loving give him ; To promise mercy, but perform it never ? But he such woful gift doth much reprove : To look more sweet, mask'd in thy looks dif- Hopeless his life ; for hopeless is his love. guife,
Go, then, most loving, but moft doleful swain ; Than Mercy's self can look with Pity's eyes? Well may I pity; le mult cure thy pain
E CLOGUE IV:
Men's scorns should rather joy than forrow move! Canonis, my joy, why drop thy rainy eyes! For then thou highest art when thou art down.
And sullen clouds hang on thy heavy brow? Their torms of hate fhould more blow up niy Seems that thy net is rent, and idle lies;
love; Thy merry pipe hangs broken on a bough: Their laughters my applause, their mocks my But late thy time in hundred joys thou spent'st; Now time spends thee, while thou in vain lament’tt. Sorrow for him, and shame let mc beride,
Who for me, wretch, in shame and sorrow dicd. Cbromis.
vui. Thelgon, my pipe is whole, and nets are new;
My private lofs full easy could I bear,
If private loss might help the public gain; Time is my foc, and hates my rugged rhymes, But who can blame my grief, or chide my fear, And I as much hate both that hate and times. Since now the fisher's trade and honour'd name
Is made the common badge of scorn and shame? Thelgon. What is it then that causeth thy unrest ?
Little know they the fisher's tbilsome pain, Or wicked charms, or love's new-kindled fire ? Whose labour with his age, ftill growing, spends Ah! much I fear, love eats thy tender breast;
not; Too well I know his never-quenched ire, His care and watchings (oft mispent in vain) Since I Amyntas lov'd, who me disdains ;
The early morn begins, dark evening ends note And loves in me nought but my grief and pains. Too foolish men, that think all labour Itands
lo travel of the fect and tired hands! Chromis.
.. No lack of love did ever breed my smart;
Ah, wretched Gifhers! born to hate and ftrifes I only learn'd to pity others pain,
To others good, but to your rape and spoil. And ward my breast from his deceiving art : This is the briefest sum of fisher's life, But one I love, and he loves me again :
To sweat, to freeže, to watch, to fast, to toil; In love this only is my greatest sore,
Hated to love, co live despis'd, forlora; He loves so much, and I can lave no more. A forrow to himself, all others' fcorn,
Yet bear it cheerfully, nor dare repine :
To grudge at loss is fond, (too fond and vain) And hang my pipe upon a willow bough:
highest causes justly it aflign. Might I grieve ever, if I grieve not now? Who bites the stone, and yet the dog condemns,
Much worse is than the beast hc lo contemns. Thelgon. Ab, foolish boy! why should thou so lamenė Chromis, how inany fishers dost thou know,
To be like him whom thou doft like so well? That rule their boats, and use their nets aright: The prince of fishers thousand tortures rent. That neither wind, nor tine, nor tide foreflow?
To heaven, lad, thou art bound; the way by hell. Such some have been; but, ah! bytempefts' spite, Wouldt thou ador'd, and great, and merry be, Their boats are lost; while we may fit and moan, When he was mock'd, debased, and dead for thee? That few were such, and now thosc few arc nonc. Vol. IV
While all the fisher boys their bonnets veil,
And far adore their lord with strucken fail.
That thus hath robb’d our joy and desert shore) His ear is shut to simple fisher-Swain ; No more our feas shall hear your melody;
For Gemma's self (a fea-nymph great and high) Your songs and thrilling pipes shall found no Upon his boat attended long in vain :
What hope poor fisher-boy may come him nigh? Silent our shores, our seas are vacant quite. His speech to her and presence he denied. Ah, fpiteful cruelty, and cruel spite !
Had Neptune come, Neptune he had defied. Tbelgon.
Where Tiber's swelling waves his banks o'erflow, Instead of these, a crew of idle grooms,
There princely fishers dwell in courtly halls: Idle and bold, that never saw the seas,
The trade they scorn, their hands forget to row; Fearless succeed, and fill their empty rooms :
Their trade, tu plot their riling, others falls ; Some lazy live, bathing in wealth and ease : Into their feas to draw the lesser brooks, Their floating boats with waves have leave to And filh for feeples high, with golden hooks.
play, Their rusty hooks all year keep holiday.
Thelgon, how canst thou well that fisher blame, Here ftray their skiffs, themselves are never here ; Who in his art fo highly doth excell, Ne'er law their boats ; ill mought they fishers That with himself can raise the fisher's name?
Well may he thrive, that spends his art fo well Meantime some wanton boy the boat doth sleer, Ah, licule nc. ds their honour to depress: (Poor boat the while !) that cares as much as Little it is; yet moạt would have it less.
he : Who in a brook a wherry cannot row,
Can never dive into their deepest art,
Thole lilken shews so dim thy dazzled light.
How would'st thou laugh at this rich beggary! First in some river thy new skill essay,
And learn to hate such happy misery! Till time and practice teach thy weakly hand : A thin, thin plank keeps in thy vital breath: Panting ambition spurs their tired breast ; Death ready waits, Fond boys, co play with death! Hope chain'd to doubt, fear link'd to pride
(Too ill yok'd pairs) give them no time to rela; Some, tretching in their boats, supinely sleep, Tyrants to lesser boats, flaves to the great.
Seasons in vain recall'd, and winds neglecting : | That man I rather pity than adore,
Neptune himself with deathful drugs infe&ting :
But much more misery that loul renains, Some teach to work, but have no hands to row : When many tyrants in one heart are pent:
Some will be eyes, but have no light to see : When thus thou ferv't, the comfort thou tant Some will be guides, but have no feet to go :
have Some deal, yet ears; some dumb, yet congues From greatness is, thou art a greater flave. will be :
(all; Dumb, deaf, lame, blind and maim'd; yet fishers
Cbromis. Fit for no use, but store an hospital.
Ah, wretched swains, that live in fishers trade;
With inward griefs and outward wanis dis Some greater, scorning now their narrow boat,
tress'd; - In mighty hulks and thips (like courts) do while every day doth more your forrow lade; dwell;
By others scorn'd, and by yourselves oppress'd! Slaving the ikiffs that in their seas do float; The great the greater serve, the lesier these:
Their ilken fails with winds do proudly swell : And all their art is how to rise and please. **Their narrow bottoms stretch they large and wide,
XXVIII. And make full room for luxury and pride,
Those fisher-swains, from whom our trade doth 'Self did I see a swain not long ago,
flow, Whose lordly frip kept all the rest in awe: That by the King of Seas their skill were taugh", About him thousand boats do waiting row; As they their boats on Jordan wave did rox,
His frowns are death, his word is firmest law; And, catching fith, were by a filer caught;
(Ah, blessed chance!) much better was the trade,, The King of Seas; fo shalt thou surely find That being fishers, thus were fishes made.
Reft, quiet, joy, in all this troublous farc. XXIX.
Let not thy net, thy hook, thy finging cease : Those happy Swains, in outward few unblest, And pray thiese tempests may be turn'd to Were fcourg'd, were scorn'd; yet was this lofs peace.
their gain : By land, by sea, in life, in death distreft ;
Oh, Prince of waters ! Sovereiga of seas! But now with King of Seas securely reign : Whom storms and calms, whom winds and For that fort woc in chis bale earthly dwelling,
waves obey ; Enjoying joy all excellence excelling.
If ever that great fither did thee please,
Chide thou the winds, and furious waves allay : Then do not thou, my boy, cast down thy mind, So, on thy shores the fisher boys shall fing
Bot seek to please, with all thy busy care, Sweet fongs of peace to our sweet peace's King.
E CLOGUE V.
DAMON, ALGON, NICÆ A:
Tae well-known fisher-boy, that late his name, What witch enchants thy mind with sudden mad. And place, and (ah, for pity!) mirth had nels
When all things smile, thou only fict't come Which from the muses' spring and churlish Chame Was Aed, (his glory latc, but now his shame; Damon, I, only 1, have cause of sadness :
For he with spite the gentle boy estrang'd :) The more my woe, to weep in common gladness Now'long the Trent with hisnew fellowsrang'd: When all eyes shine, mine only must be ra nig: There Damon (friendly Damon ') met the boy, No winter now, but in my brcalt, remaining : Where lordly Trent kisses the Darwin coy, Yet feels this breast a summer's burning fever : Bathing his liquid streams in lovers’ melting joy. And yet (alas ?) my winter thaweth never :
And yet (alas ;) this fire eats and consunes me Damon. Algon, what luckless ftar thy mirth hath blasted? My joy in thee, and thou in sorrow drown'd.
Damon. The year, with winter storms all rent and wafted,' Within our Darwin, in her rocky cell, Hath now fresh youth and gentler seasons tafted : A nymph there lives, which thousand boys hath
The warmer fun his bride hath newly gown'd, harm'd; With fiery arms clipping the want n ground, All as she gliding rides in boats of thell, And gets an heaven on earth : that primrose there, Darting her eşes. (where (pite and beauty dwell : Which 'mongst those vi'lets sheds his golden hair, Ay me, that spite with beauty should be arm'd!) Seems the sun's little son, fix'd in his azure sphere. Her witching eye the boy and boat hath charm'd.
No sooner drinks he down that pois'nous eye, Seeft how the dancing lambs on flow'ry, banks But mourns and pines : (ah piteous cruelty )
Forget their food, to mind their sweeter play? With her he longs to live; for her he longs to Seeft how they skip, and, in their warton pranks,
die. Boudd o'er the hillocks set in fportful ranks? They skip, they vault, full little caren they
Aigon. To make their milky mothers blcating itay. Damon, what Tryphon taught thine eye che art Seeft how the salmons (water's colder nation) By these few signs to search so foon; so well, Lately arriv'd from their sea-navigation,
A wound deep hiv, deep in my fetter'd heart, How joy leaps in their heart, shew by their leap- Piered by her eye, Love's and Death's plealing ing fashion.