AURORA now her welcome visit pays,
Stern darkness flies before her cheerful rays;
Cool circling breezes whirl along the air,
And early shepherds to the fields repair;
Lead we our flocks, then, to the mountain's brow,
Where junipers and thorny brambles grow;
Where founts of water 'midst the daisies spring,
And soaring larks and tuneful linnets sing;
Your pleasing song shall teach our flocks to stray,
While sounding echoes smoothe the sylvan lay.
Alex. "Tis thine to sing the graces of the morn,
The zephyr trembling o'er the rip'ning corn;
'Tis thine with ease to chant the rural lay,
While bubbling fountains to your numbers play.
No piping swain that treads the verdant field,
But to your music and your verse must yield;
Sing then,-for here we may with safety keep
Our sportive lambkins on this mossy steep.
Dam. With ruddy glow the sun adorns the land,
The pearly dew-drops on the bushes stand;
The lowing oxen from the folds we hear,
And snowy flocks upon the hills appear.
Alex. How sweet the murmurs of the neighb'ring ril!!
Sweet are the slumbers which its floods distill:
Thro' pebbly channels winding as they run,
And brilliant sparkling to the rising sun.
Dam. Behold Edina's lofty turrets rise,
Her structures fair adorn the eastern skies;
As Pentland's cliffs o'ertop yon distant plain,
So she the cities on our north domain.
Alex. Boast not of cities, or their lofty tow'rs,
Where Discord all her baneful influence pours;
The homely cottage, and the wither'd tree,
With sweet Content, shall be preferr'd by me.
Dam. The hemlock dire shall please the heifer's taste, Our lands like wild Arabia be waste;
The bee forget to range for winter's food,
Ere I forsake the forest and the flood.
Alex. Ye balmy breezes! wave the verdant field; Clouds! all your bounties, all your moisture yield; That fruits and herbage may our farms adorn, And furrow'd ridges teem with loaded corn. Dam. The year already hath propitious smil❜d, Gentle in spring-time, and in summer mild; No cutting blasts have hurt my tender dams, No hoary frosts destroy'd my infant lambs.
Alex. If Ceres crown with joy the bounteous year, A sacred altar to her shrine I'll rear;
A vig'rous ram shall bleed, whose curling horns,
His woolly neck and hardy front adorns.
Dam. Teach me, O PAN! to tune the slender reed, No fav'rite ram shall at thine altars bleed;
Each breathing morn thy woodland verse I'll sing,
And hollow dens shall with the numbers ring.
Alex. APOLLO, lend me thy celestial lyre,
The woods in concert join at thy desire:
At morn, at noon, at night, I'll tune the lay,
And bid fleet Echo bear the sound away.
Dam. Sweet are the breezes, when cool eve returns,
To lowing herds, when raging Syrius burns;
Not half so sweetly winds the breeze along,
As does the murmur of your pleasing song.
Alex. To hear your strains the cattle spurn their food, The feather'd songsters leave their tender brood; Around your seat the silent lambs advance, And scrambling he-goats on the mountains dance. Dam. But haste, ALEXIS, reach yon' afy shade, Which mantling ivy round the oaks hath made; There we'll retire, and list the warbling note That flows melodious from the blackbird's throat; Your easy numbers shall his songs inspire, And ev'ry warbler join the gen'ral choir.
THE sun the summit of his orb hath gain'd,
No flecker'd clouds his azure path hath stain'd;
Our pregnant ewes around us cease to graze,
Stung with the keenness of his sultry rays;
The weary bullock from the yoke is led,
And youthful shepherds from the plains are fled
To dusky shades, where scarce a glimm'ring ray
Can dart its lustre thro' the leafy spray.
Yon cooling riv❜let where the waters gleam,
Where springing flow'rs adorn the limpid stream,
Invites us where the drooping willow grows,
To guide our flocks, and take a cool repose.
Tim. To thy advice a grateful ear I'll lend,
The shades I'll court where slender osiers bend;
Our weanlings young shall crop the rising flow'r,
While we retire to yonder twining bow'r;
'The woods shall echo back thy cheerful strains, Admir'd by all our Caledonian swains.
Cor. There have I oft with gentle DELIA stray'd, Amidst th' embow'ring solitary shade;
Before the gods to thwart my wishes strove,
By blasting every pleasing glimpse of love:
For Delia wanders o'er the Anglian plains
Where civil discord and sedition reigns.
There Scotia's sons in odious light appear,
Tho' we for them have wav'd the hostile spear;
For them my sire, enwrapp'd in curdled gore,
Breath'd his last moments on a foreign shore.
Tim. Six lunar months, my friend, will soon expire,
And she return to crown your fond desire.
For her, O rack not your desponding mind!
In Delia's breast a gen'rous flame's confin'd,
That burns for Corydon, whose piping lay
Hath caus'd the tedious moments steal away:
Whose strains melodious mov'd the falling floods
To whisper Delia to the rising woods.
O! if your sighs could aid the floating gales,
That favourably swell their lofty sails,
Ne'er should your sobs their rapid flight give o'er
Till Delia's presence grac'd our northern shore.
Cor. Tho' Delia greet my love, I sigh in vain,
Such joy unbounded can I ne'er obtain.
Her sire a thousand fleeces numbers o'er,
And grassy hills increase his milky store;
While the weak fences of a scanty fold
Will all my sheep and fatt'ning lambkins hold.
Tim. Ah, hapless youth! although the early muse
Painted her semblance on thy youthful brows;
Tho' she with laurels twin'd thy temples round,
And in thy ear distill'd the magic sound;
A cheerless poverty attends thy woes,
Your song melodious unrewarded flows.
Cor. Think not, TIMANTHES, that for wealth I pine,
Tho' all the fates to make me poor combine;
TAY bounding o'er his banks with awful sway,
Bore all my corns and all my flocks away.
Of Jove's dread precepts did I e'er complain?
E'er curse the rapid flood or dashing rain?
Ev'n now I sigh not for my former store,
But wish the gods had destin❜d Delia poor.
Tim. 'Tis joy, my friend, to think I can repay
The loss you bore by Autumn's rigid sway.
Yon fertile meadow where the daisies spring
Shall yearly pasture to your heifers bring:
Your flock with mine shall on yon mountain feed,
Cheer'd by the warbling of your tuneful reed:
No more shall Delia's ever-fretful sire
Against your hopes and ardent love conspire.
Rous'd by her smiles you'll tune the happy lay,
While hills responsive waft your songs away.
Cor. May plenteous crops your irksome labour crown,
May hoodwink'd Fortune cease her envious frown;
May riches still increase with growing years;
Your flocks be numerous as your silver hairs,
Tim. But, lo! the heat invites us at our ease
court the twining shades and cooling breeze; Our languid joints we'll peaceably recline, And midst the flow'rs and op'ning blossoms dine.
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