Melibœus here gives us the relation of a sharp poetical contest between Thyrfis and Corydon; at which he himself and Daphnis were prefent; who both declared for Corydon.

BENEATH a holm, repair'd two jolly swains;
Their fheep and goats together graz'd the plaîns :
Both young Arcadians, both alike inspir’d
To fing, and answer as the fong requir'd.
Daphnis, as umpire, took the middle feat ;
And fortune thither led my weary feet.
For while I fenc'd my myrtles from the cold,
The father of my flock had wander'd from the fold.
Of Daphnis I enquir'd; he, fmiling, faid,
Difmifs your fear, and pointed where he fed.
And, if no greater cares difturb your mind,
Sit here with us, in covert of the wind,

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Your lowing heifers, of their own accord,
At watering time will seek the neighbouring ford.
Here wanton Mincius winds along the meads,
And shades his happy banks with bending reeds :
And fee from yon old oak, that mates the skies,
How black the clouds of fwarming bees arise.
What fhould I do! nor was Alcippe nigh,
Nor abfent Phyllis could my care supply,
To house, and feed by hand my weaning lambs,
And drain the ftrutting udders of their dams?
Great was the ftrife betwixt the finging fwains :
And I preferr'd my pleasure to my gains.
Alternate rhyme the ready champions chose :
These Corydon rehears'd, and Thyrfis those.
COR. Ye Mufes, ever fair, and ever young,
Affift my numbers, and inspire my fong.
With all my Codrus O inspire my breast,
For Codrus, after Phœbus, fings the best.
Or if my wishes have prefum'd too high,
And stretch'd their bounds beyond mortality,
The praise of artful numbers I refign:
And hang my pipe upon the facred pine.

THYR. Arcadian swains, your youthful poet crown With ivy wreaths; though furly Codrus frown. Or if he blast my Muse with envious praise, Then fence my brows with amulets of bays; Left his ill arts or his malicious tongue

Should poifon or bewitch my growing fong.

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COR. These branches of a stag, this tusky boar

(The first effay of arms untry'd before)

Young

Young Mycon offers, Delia, to thy fhrine;
But speed his hunting with thy power divine.
Thy ftatue then of Parian stone shall stand;
Thy legs in buskins with a purple band.

THYR. This bowl of milk, these cakes, (our)

country fare,)

For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare,
Because a little garden is thy care.

But if the falling lambs increase my fold,
Thy marble statue shall be turn'd to gold.
COR. Fair Galatea, with thy filver feet,

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O, whiter than the fwan, and more than Hybla fweet;
Tall as a poplar, taper as the bole,

Come charm thy fhepherd, and restore my foul.
Come when my lated sheep at night return;
And crown the filent hours, and stop the rofy morn.
THYR. May I become as abject in thy fight,
As fea-weed on the fhore, and black as night:
Rough as a bur, deform'd like him who chaws
Sardinian herbage to contract his jaws;
Such and fo monftrous let thy fwain appear,
If one day's absence looks not like a year.

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Hence from the field for fhame: the flock deferves

No better feeding, while the fhepherd starves.

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COR. Ye moffy fprings, inviting easy fleep,

Ye trees, whose leafy shades those mosfy fountains keep, Defend my flock; the fummer heats are near,

And bloffoms on the fwelling vines appear.

THYR.

THYR. With heapy fires our chearful hearth is

crown'd;

And firs for torches in the woods abound:

We fear not more the winds, and wintry cold,

Than ftreams the banks, or wolves the bleating fold. COR. Our woods with juniper and chefnuts

crown'd,

With falling fruits and berries paint the ground; And lavish Nature laughs, and ftrows her ftores

around.

But if Alexis from our mountains fly,

Ev'n running rivers leave their channels dry.

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THYR. Parch'd are the plains, and frying is the field, Nor withering vines their juicy vintage yield.

But if returning Phyllis blefs the plain,

The grafs revives; the woods are green again;
And Jove defcends in fhowers of kindly rain.

COR. The poplar is by great Alcides worn;
The brows of Phoebus his own bays adorn;
The branching vine the jolly Bacchus loves;
The Cyprian queen delights in myrtle groves.
With hazle Phyllis crowns her flowing hair;
And while fhe loves that common wreath to wear,
Nor bays, nor myrtle boughs, with hazle shall com-

pare.

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THYR. The towering afh is faireft in the woods; In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods: But if my Lycidas will ease my pains,

And often vifit our forfaken plains,

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To him the towering afh fhall yield in woods;
In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods.
MEL. These rhymes I did to memory commend,
When vanquish'd Thyrfis did in vain contend;
Since when 'tis Corydon among the fwains,
Young Corydon without a rival reigns.

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