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A UT U M N.

THE

THIRD PASTORAL,

OR

HYLAS and EGON.

BE

To Mr. WYCHERLEY.

ENEATH the fhade a spreading Beech displays,
Hylas and Ægon fung their rural lays;

This mourn'd a faithlefs, that an abfent Love,
And Delia's name and Doris' fill'd the Grove.
Ye Mantuan nymphs, your facred fuccour bring; S
Hylas and Egon's rural lays I fing.

Thou, whom the Nine with Plautus' wit infpire, The art of Terence, and Menander's fire;

Whose fenfe inftructs us, and whofe humour charms, Whofe judgment fways us, and whose spirit warms! Oh, fkill'd in Nature! fee the hearts of Swains, II

NOTES.

This Paftoral confifts of two parts, like the viiith of Virgil: The Scene, a Hill; the Time at Sun-fet.

VER. 7. Thou, whom the Nine,) Mr. Wycherley, a famous author of Comedies; of which the most celebrated were the Plain Dealer and Country-Wife. Не was a writer of infinite fpirit, fatire, and wit. The only objection made to him was that he had too much. However he was followed in the fame way by Mr. Congreve; tho' with a little more correctness.

B S

Their artless passions, and their tender pains.
Now fatting Phoebus fhone ferenely bright,
And fleecy clouds were ftreak'd with purple light;
When tuneful Hylas with melodious moan,
Taught rocks to weep and made the mountains groan.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!

To Delia's ear the tender notes convey.

As fome fad Turtle his loft love deplores,
And with deep murmurs fills the founding fhores;
Thus, far from Delia, to the winds I mourn,
Alike unheard, unpity'd, and forlorn.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along!
For her, the feather'd quires neglect their fong:
For her, the limes their pleating fhades deny;
For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.
Ye flow'rs that droop, forfaken by the fpring,
Ye birds that, left by fumtner, ceafe to fing,
Ye trees that fade when autumn-heats remove,
Say, is not abfence death to those who love?

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away!
Curs'd be the fields that caufe my Delia's ftay;
Fade ev'ry bloffom, wither ev'ry tree,
Die ev'ry flow'r, and perifh all, but the.
What have I faid? where'er my Delia flies,
Let fpring attend, and fudden flow'rs arife;
Let op'ning roles knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drog from ev'ry thorn.

IMITATIONS.

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21

25

30

35

VER. 37.

Aurea dura

Mala ferant quercus; narciffo floreat alnus,
Pinguia corticibus fudent electra myricæ.

Virg. Ecl. viii.

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs along! The birds fhall ceafe to tune their ev'ning fong, The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move, And ftreams to murmur, e'er I ceafe to love. Not bubbling fountains to the thirfty fwain, Not balmy fleep to labrers faint with pain, Nor fhow'rs to larks, or fun-fhine to the bee, Are half so charming as thy fight to me.

40

45

Go, gentle gales, and bear my fighs away! Come, Delia, come; ah, why this long delay? Thro' rocks and caves the name of Delia founds, Delia, each cave and echoing rock rebounds. 50 Ye pow'rs, what pleafing frenzy fooths my mind! Do lovers dream, or is my Delia kind? She coines, my Delia comes! -Now ceafe my lay, And ceafe, ye gales, to bear my fighs away!

Next Egon fung, while Windfor groves adimir'd; Rehearfe, ye Mufes, what yourfelves infpir'd. Refound, ye hd, ye hills, refo

refound my mournful ftrain! Of perjur'd Doris, dying I complain:

Here where the mountains, lefs'ning as they rife,

VARIATIONS.

VER. 48. Originally thus in the MS.

With him thro Libya's burning plains I'll go,
On Alpine mountains tread th' eternal fnow;
Yer feel no heat but what our loves impart,
And dread no coldness but in Thyrfis' heart.

VER. 43. etc.)

IMITATIONS.

Quale fopor feffs in gramine, quale per æfum Dulcis aquæ faliente fitim reftringuere rivo. VER. 52. An qui amant, ipfi fibi forania fingunt?

Ecl. v.

Idiviii.

бо

Lofe the low vales, and steal into the fkies;
While lab'ring oxen, spent with toil and heat,
In their loofe traces from the field retreat:
While curling fmoaks from village-tops are feen,
And the fleet fhades glide o'er the dufky green.
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay! 65
Beneath yon' poplar oft we paft the day:
Oft' on the rind I carv'd her am'rous Vows,
While fhe with garlands hung the bending, boughs:
The garlands fade, the vows are worn away; skola
So dies her love, and fo my hopes decay.or 10470
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful ftrain!
Now bright Arcturus glads the teeming grain,
Now golden fruits on loaded branches shine,
And grateful clusters fwell with floods of wine;
Now blufhing berries paint the yellow grove;
Juft Gods! fhall all things yield returns but love?
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay!
The fhepherds cry, "Thy flocks are left a prey —
Ah! what avails it me, the flocks to keep,
Who loft my heart while I preferv'd my sheep.
Pan ca
came, and afk'd, what magic caus'd my fmart,

Or what ill eyes inalignant glances dart?
What eyes but hers, alas, have pow'r to move!
And is there magic but what dwells in love!

Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful ftraits!
I'll fly from fhepherds, flocks, and flow'ry plains.
From fhepherds, flocks, and plains, I may remove,
Forfake mankind, and all the world-but love!

IMITATIONS:

VER. 82. Or what ill eyes)count

Nefcio quis teneros oculos mihi fafcinat agnos.

75.

80

84

T

I know thee, Love! on foreign mountains bred,
Wolves gave thee fuck, and favage tigers fed.
Thou wert from Etna's burning entrails torn,
Got by fierce whirlwinds, and in thunder born!
Refound, ye hills, refound my mournful lay!
Farewell, ye woods, adieu the light of
of day!
One leap from yonder cliff shall end my pains,
No more, ye hills, no more refound my strains!
Thus fung the fhepherds till th'approach of night,
The fkies yet blufhing with departing light,
When falling dews with fpangles deck'd the glade,
And the low fun had lengthen'd ev'ry fhade.

IMITATIONS.

99

95

100

VER. 89. Nunc fcio quid fit Amor: duris in cotibus illum, etc,

ITA

giabi

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