In vain I bid the restless world adieu,
To feek tranquillity and peace with you.
Though wild Ambition and destructive Rage
No Factions here can form, no Wars can wage;
Though Envy frowns not on your humble shades,
Nor Calumny your innocence invades,

Yet cruel Love, that troubler of the breast,
Too often violates your boasted rest;

With inbred ftorms disturbs your calm retreat,
And taints with bitterness each rural fweet.

Ah luckless day! when first with fond furprize
On Delia's face I fix'd my eager eyes ;
Then in wild tumults all my foul was toft,
Then reason, liberty, at once were loft:

And every wish, and thought, and care was gone,'
But what my heart employ'd on her alone.

Then too fhe fmil'd: can fmiles our peace destroy,

Those lovely children of Content and Joy?
How can soft pleasure and tormenting woe,

From the same spring at the same moment flow?
Unhappy boy, these vain enquiries cease,

Thought could not guard, nor will reftore thy peace:
Indulge the frenzy that thou must endure,

And footh the pain thou know'st not how to cure.

Come, flatt'ring Memory, and tell

my heart How kind fhe was, and with what pleasing art

She ftrove its fondest wishes to obtain,

chain.

Confirm her pow'r, and faster bind my
If on the green we danc'd, a mirthful band,
To me alone fhe gave her willing hand;
Her partial taste, if e'er I touch'd the lyre,
Still in my fong found fomething to admire.

By none but her my crook with flow'rs was crown'd,
By none but her my brows with ivy bound:
The world that Damon was her choice believ'd,
The world, alas! like Damon, was deceiv'd.
When last I saw her, and declar'd my fire,
In words as foft as paffion could inspire,
Coldly fhe heard, and full of fcorn withdrew,
Without one pitying glance, one sweet adieu.
The frighted hind, who fees his ripen'd corn
Up from the roots by fudden tempests torn,
Whose fairest hopes destroy'd and blasted lie,
Feels not so keen a pang of grief as I.
Ah! how have I deferv'd, inhuman maid,
To have my faithful service thus repay'd?

Were all the marks of kindness I receiv'd,
But dreams of joy, that charm'd me and deceiv'd?

Or

Or did you only nurse my growing love,
That with more pain I might your hatred prove?
Sure guilty treachery no place could find

In fuch a gentle, fuch a gen'rous mind:

A maid brought up the woods and wilds among, Could ne'er have learnt the art of courts so young: No; let me rather think her anger feign'd,

Still let me hope my Delia may be gain'd;

'Twas only modesty that feem'd difdain,

And her heart fuffer'd when the gave me pain.

Pleas'd with this flatt'ring thought the love-fick boy

Felt the faint dawnings of a doubtful joy;
Back to his flock more chearful he return'd,
When now the setting fun less fiercely burn'd;
Blue vapours rofe along the mazy rills,

And light's last blushes ting'd the distant hills.

HOPE.

XXXX

HOPE. ECLOGUE II.

To Mr. DODDINGTON.

Ear, DODDINGTON, the notes that shepherds fing,

HEar,

Notes foft as those of nightingales in spring: Nor Pan, nor Phoebus tune the fhepherd's reed; From Love alone our tender lays proceed : Love warms our fancy with enliv'ning fires, Refines our genius, and our verse inspires: From him Theocritus, on Enna's plains, Learnt the wild sweetness of his Doric ftrains Virgil by him was taught the moving art,

;

That charm'd each ear, and soften'd every heart :
O would'st thou quit the pride of courts, and deign
To dwell with us upon the vocal plain,

Thee too his pow'r fhould reach, and every fhade
Refound the praises of thy fav'rite maid;

Thy pipe our rural concert would improve,
And we should learn of thee to please and love.
Damon no longer fought the filent shade,
No more in unfrequented paths he stray'd,

But

But call'd the nymphs to hear his jocund fong,
And told his joy to all the ruftic throng.

Bleft be the hour, he said, that happy hour,
When first I own'd my Delia's gentle pow'r;
Then gloomy discontent and pining care
Forfook my breast, and left soft wishes there:
Soft wishes there they left, and gay defires,
Delightful languors, and transporting fires.
Where yonder limes combine to form a fhade,
These eyes first gaz'd upon the charming maid;
There the appear'd, on that aufpicious day,
When swains their sportive rites to Bacchus pay:
She led the dance-heav'ns! with what grace fhe mov'd!
Who could have feen her then, and not have lov'd?
I ftrove not to refift so sweet a flame,

But glory'd in a happy captive's name;

Nor would I now, could love permit, be free,
But leave to brutes their favage liberty.

And art thou then, fond fwain, fecure of joy?

Can no reverse thy flatt'ring bliss destroy?
Has treach'rous Love no torment yet in store?

Or haft thou never prov'd his fatal pow'r?

Whence flow'd thofe tears that late bedew'd thy cheek? Why figh'd thy heart as if it ftrove to break ?

Why