happy days! the maids around her say ; O hafte, profufe of bleffings, hafte away! "Be every youth, like royal Abbas, mov'd; "And every Georgian maid, like Abra, lov'd!" ECLOGUE ECLOGUE IV. AGIB AND SECANDER; OR, THE FUGITIVES. SCENE, A MOUNTAIN IN CIRCASSIA. TIME, MIDNIGHT. 'N fair Circaffia, where, to love inclin❜d, IN Each fwain was bleft, for every maid was kind; At that ftill hour, when awful midnight reigns, And none, but wretches, haunt the twilight plains; What time the moon had hung her lamp on high, And past in radiance thro' the cloudless sky; Sad o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled, Where wildering fear and defperate forrow led : Faft as they preft their flight, behind them lay Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies ftole away. Along the mountain's bending fides they ran, 'Till faint and weak Secander thus began: SECANDER. O ftay thee, Agib, for my feet deny, Trace our fad flight thro' all its length of way! And yon wide groves, already paft with pain! AGIB. Weak as thou art, yet hapless must thou know The toils of flight, or fome feverer woe! Still as I hafte, the Tartar fhouts behind, And fhrieks and forrows load the faddening wind: rage of heart, with ruin in his hand, In He blafts our harvests, and deforms our land. 4. SE SECANDER. Unhappy land, whose bleffings tempt the fword, No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy. AGIB. Yet these green hills, in fummer's fultry heat, Sweet to the fight is Zabran's flowery plain, No more the shepherd's whitening tents appear, SECANDER. In vain Circaffia boafts her spicy groves, Their eye's blue languifh, and their golden hair! AGIB. Ye Georgian fwains that piteous learn from far Circaffia's ruin, and the wafle of war; Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs prepare, To fhield your harvefts, and defend your fair : The Turk and Tartar like defigns pursue, Fix'd to deftroy, and ftedfaft to undo. Wild |