Part 33

DAMON.

Then sing by turns, by turns the muses sing; Now hawthorns blossom, now the daisies spring, Now leaves the trees, and flow'rs adorn the ground; Begin, the vales shall ev'ry note rebound.

STREPHON.

Inspire me, Phoebus, in my Delia's praise, 45 With Waller's strains, or Granville's moving lays! A milk-white bull shall at your altars stand, That threats a fight, and spurns the rising sand.

DAPHNIS.

O Love! for Sylvia let me gain the prize, And make my tongue victorious as her eyes: 50 No lambs or sheep for victims I'll impart, Thy victim, Love, shall be the shepherd's heart.

STREPHON.

Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then hid in shades, eludes her eager swain; But feigns a laugh to see me search around, 55 And by that laugh the willing fair is found.

DAPHNIS.

The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green, She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen, While a kind glance at her pursuer flies, How much at variance are her feet and eyes! 60

STREPHON.

O'er golden sand let rich Pactolus flow, And trees weep amber on the banks of Po; Bright Thames's shores the brightest beauties yield, Feed here, my lambs, I'll seek no distant field.

DAPHNIS.

Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves; 65 Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves; If Windsor-shades delight the matchless maid, Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windsor-shade.

STREPHON.

All nature mourns, the skies relent in show'rs, Hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flow'rs; 70 If Delia smile, the flow'rs begin to spring, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing.

DAPHNIS.

All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair, The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air; If Sylvia smiles, new glories gild the shore, 75 And vanquished nature seems to charm no more.

STREPHON.

In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love, At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove, But Delia always; absent from her sight, Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight. 80

DAPHNIS.

Sylvia's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day; Ev'n spring displeases, when she shines not here; But blest with her, 'tis spring throughout the year.

STREPHON.

Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears, 85 A wondrous tree that sacred monarchs bears; Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes.

DAPHNIS.

Nay tell me first, in what more happy fields The thistle springs, to which the lily yields: 90 And then a nobler prize I will resign; For Sylvia, charming Sylvia shall be thine.

DAMON.

Cease to contend; for, Daphnis, I decree The bowl to Strephon, and the lamb to thee. Blest swains, whose nymphs in ev'ry grace excel; 95 Blest nymphs, whose swains those graces sing so well! Now rise, and haste to yonder woodbine bow'rs, A soft retreat from sudden vernal show'rs; The turf with rural dainties shall be crowned, While op'ning blooms diffuse their sweets around. 100 For see! the gath'ring flocks to shelter tend, And from the Pleiads fruitful show'rs descend.