Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid springs are To lead the train, fweet modefty appear: Here make thy court amidst our rural scene, [clear, And fhepherd-girls fhall own thee for their queen. Diftrufting all, a wife fufpicious maid; But man the moft-not more the mountain doe Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe. Cold is her breast, like flowers that drink the dew A filken veil conceals her from the view. No wild defires amidst thy train be known, But Faith, whofe heart is fix'd on one alone : And Love the laft: by these your hearts approve, Thus fung the fwain; and ancient legends fay The fhepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his fong. ECLOGUE ECLOGUE II. HASSAN; OR, THE CAMEL-DRIVER. SCENE, THE DESERT. TIME, MID-DAY. 'N filent horror o'er the boundless waste IN The driver Haffan with his camels past : One cruise of water on his back he bore, And his light fcrip contain'd a scanty store; A fan of painted feathers in his hand, To guard his fhaded face from fcorching fand. The fultry fun had gain'd the middle sky, And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh; The beafts, with pain, their dufty way pursue, Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view! With defperate forrow wild, th' affrighted man Thrice figh'd, thrice ftruck his breaft, and thus be"Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, [gan: "When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!" Ah! little thought I of the blafting wind, The thirst or pinching hunger that I find! Bethink thee, Haffan, where fhall Thirft affwage, When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage? Soon fhall this fcrip its precious load refign; Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine? Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share! Here, where no fprings in murmurs break away, Or mofs-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more bleft, or verdant vales bestow: Here rocks alone, and tafteless fands are found, And faint and fickly winds for ever howl around. "Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, "When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way! Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade! The The lilly peace outshines the filver store, Or why fond man fo eafily betray'd? O cease, my fears!—all frantic as I go, Oft in the duft I view his printed feet: And And fearful! oft, when day's declining light At that dead hour the filent afp shall creep, O hapless youth! for fhe thy love hath won, The tender Zara will be most undone ! Big |