Yet, as I can, I in return will fing:
I too thy Daphnis to the Stars will bring,
too thy Daphnis to the Stars, with you,
Will raife; for Daphnis lov'd Menalcas too.
MOP SU S.
Is there a thing that I could more defire?
For neither can there be a fubject higher,
Nor, if the praife of Stimichon be true,
Can it be better fung than 'tis by you.
MENAL CAS.
Daphnis now wondring at the glorious Show, [go,
Thro' Heav'n's bright Pavement does triumphant
And fees the moving Clouds, and the fixt Stars
below:
Therefore new Joys make glad the Woods, the Plains,
Pan and the Dryades, and the chearful Swains.
The Wolf no Ambush for the Flock does lay,
No cheating Nets the harmless Deer betray,
Daphnis a general Peace commands, and Nature
does obey.
Hark! the glad Mountains raise to Heaven their
Voice!
Hark! the hard Rocks in myftick tunes rejoyce!
Hark! through the Thickets wondrous Songs refound
A God! A God! Menalcas, he is crown'd!
O be propitious? O be good to thine!
See here four hallow'd Altars we defign,
To Daphnis two, to Phœbus two we raise,
To pay the yearly Tribute of our Praise :
Sacred to thee they each returning year
Two bowls of Milk and two of Oil fhall bear :
Feafts I'll ordain, and to thy deathless praise
Thy Votaries exalted Thoughts to raise,
Rich Chian Wines fhall in full Goblets flow,
And give a tafte of Nectar here below.
Dametas fhall with Lictian Agon join,
To celebrate with Songs the Rites divine,
Alphefibaus with a reeling Gate,
Shall the wild Satyrs dancing imitate.
When to the Nymphs we Vows and Offerings pay,
When we with folemn Rites our Fields furvey,
Thefe Honours ever fhall be thine; the Boar
Shall in the Fields and Hills delight no more;
No more in Streams the Fish, in Flow'rs the Bee,
E'er, Daphnis, we forget our Songs to thee:
Off'rings to thee the Shepherds every year
Shall, as to Bacchus and to Ceres, bear.
To thee as to thofe Gods fhall Vows be made,
And Vengeance wait on those, by whom they are
[not paid. What Prefent worth thy Verfe, can Mopfus find? Not the foft whispers of the Southern Wind So much delight my Ear, or charm my Mind; Not founding fhores beat by the murm'ring tide, Nor Rivers that through ftony Valleys glide.
First you this Pipe fhall take: And 'tis the fame
That play'd poor Corydon's unhappy Flame: Ecl, 2.
The fame that taught me Melibans's Sheep. Ecl. 3.
MOPS V. S.
You then shall for my fake this Sheephook keep,
Adorn'd with Brafs, which I have oft deny'd
To young Antigenes in his Beauty's pride.
And who cou'd think he then in vain could fue
Yet him I would deny, and freely give it you.
The SIXTH ECLOGUE.
SILEN US.
English'd by the Earl of Rofcomon.
My Aim being only to have Virgil underflood by fuch who do not understand Latin, and cannot (probably) be acquainted with fome Names and Passages of this Eclogue, I have directed them by Figures to the Poftfcript, where they will find the best account that I can give, of all that is out of the common Road.
Firft of Romans Roop'd to Rural Strains,
Nor blufh'd to dwell among 1 Sicilian Swains,
When my 2 Thalia rais'd her bolder Voice,
And Kings and Battels were her lofty Choice,
Phœbus did kindly humbler Thoughts infuse,
And with this whisper check th' afpiring Mufe.
A Shepherd (Tityrus) his Flock should feed,
And chufe a Subject suited to his Reed.
Thus I (while each ambitious Pen prepares
To write thy Praises, 3 Varus, and thy Wars)
My Paft'ral Tribute in low Numbers pay,
And though I once prefum'd, I only now obey.
But yet (if any with indulgent Eyes
Can look on this, and such a Trifle prize)
Thee only, Varus, our glad Swains shall fing,
And every Grove and every Eccho ring.
Phoebus delights in Varus Fav'rite Name,
And none who under that Protection came,
Was ever ill receiv'd, or unfecure of Fame.
Proceed my Muse.
4 Young Chromis and Mnafýlus, chanc'd to stray,
Where (fleeping in a Cave) Silenus lay,
Whofe conftant Cups fly fuming to his Brain,
And always boyl in each extended Vein;
His trufty Flaggon, full of potent Juice,
Was hanging by, worn thin with Age and Use;
Drop'd from his Head, a wreath lay on the Ground;
In hafte they feiz'd him, and in hafte they s bound;
Eager, for both had been deluded long
With fruitless hope of his inftructive Song:
But while with conscious fear they doubtful food,
Agle, the fairest 6 Nais of the Flood,
With a 7 Vermilion Dye his Temples ftain'd.
Waking, he fmil'd, and must I then be chain'd?
Loofe me, he cry'd; 'twas boldly done, to find
And view a God, but 'tis too bold to bind.
The promis'd Verfe no longer I'll delay,
(She fhall be fatisfy'd another way.)
With that, he rais'd his tuneful Voice aloud,
The knotty Oaks their listning branches bow'd,
And Savage Beafts, and Sylvan Gods did crowd;
For lo! he fung the World's ftupendious Birth, How scatter'd feeds of Sea, and Air, and Earth, And purer Fire, through univerfal Night And empty space, did fruitfully unite; From whence th' innumerable race of things, By circular fucceffive order fprings.
By what degrees this Earth's compacted Sphere Was hardned, Woods and Rocks and Towns to bear; How linking Waters (the firm Land to drain) Fill'd the capacious Deep, and form'd the Main, While from above, adorn'd with radiant Light, A new-born Sun furpriz'd the dazled fight; How Vapours turn'd to Clouds obfcure the Sky, And Clouds diffolv'd the thirsty Ground fupply; How the firft Forreft rais'd its fhady Head, [fed. Till when,few wandring Beafts on unknown Mountains Then Pyrrha's ftony Race rofe from the Ground, Old Saturn reign'd with golden Plenty crown'd, And bold Prometheus (whofe untam'd defire 8 Rival'd the Sun with his own heavenly Fire)
Now doomed the Scythian Vultures endless prey,
Severely pays for animating Clay.
He nam'd the Nymph (for who but Gods could Into whofe Arms the lovely 9 Hylas fell;
Alcides wept in vain for Hylas loft,
Hylas in vain refounds through all the Coast.
He with compaffion told Pafiphae's fault, [thought! Ah! wretched Queen! whence came that guilty The 10 Maids of Argos, who with frantick Cries And imitated lowings fill'd the Skies,
(Though metamorphos'd in their wild conceit)
Did never burn with fuch unnatural heat.
Ah! wretched Queen! while you on Mountains stray,
He on foft Flow'rs his fnowy fide does lay;
Or feeks in Herds a more proportion'd Love :
Surround, my Nymphs, the cries, furround the Grove;
Perhaps fome footsteps printed in the Clay,
Will to my Love direct your wandring way;
Perhaps, while thus in search of him I rome,
My happier Rivals have intic'd him home.
He fung how Atalanta was betray'd
By thofe Hefperian Baits her Lover laid;
And the fad Sifters who to Trees were turn'd,
-While with the World th' ambitious Brother burn'd;
All he defcrib'd was present to their Eyes,
And as he rais'd his Verfe, the Poplars feem'd to rise.
He taught which Mufe did by Apollo's will
Guide wandring 11 Gallus to th' Aonian Hill:
(Which place the God for folemn meetings chofe)
With deep refpe&t the learned Senate rofe,
And 12 Linus thus (deputed by the reft)
The Hero's welcome, and their thanks exprefs'd:
This Harp of old to Hefied did belong,
To this, the Mufes Gift, join thy harmonious Song;
Charm'd by thefe ftrings, Trees ftarting from the
ground,
Have follow'd with delight the powerful found,
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