A
PASTORAL
.
Daphne
.
WHy
sigh
you
so
,
What
Grievance
can
annoy
,
A
Nymph
like
you
?
Alas
,
why
sighs
my
Joy
?
My
Philomela
,
why
dost
bend
thy
Head
,
Hast
lost
thy
Pipe
,
or
is
thy
Garland
dead
?
Thy
flocks
are
fruitful
,
flowry
all
thy
Plain
;
Thy
Father's
Darling
,
why
should'st
thou
complain
?
Philomela
.
Unfriendly
thus
,
when
I
expect
Relief
,
To
mock
the
weightier
causes
of
my
grief
.
Daphne
.
Thou
dost
abuse
my
Love
:
How
should
I
guess
The
unknown
Reason
of
thy
Tears
,
unless
Thy
Birds
are
fled
,
or
else
the
Winds
have
blown
,
This
stormy
Night
,
your
tallest
Cypress
down
?
Thy
Shepherd's
true
,
or
I
had
nam'd
him
first
.
Philomela
.
Ah
!
were
he
so
,
I
would
contemn
the
rest
.
Daphne
.
Why
dost
thou
fear
it
?
Not
a
truer
Swain
E're
drove
his
Sheep
to
this
frequented
Plain
.
Philomela
.
Like
thee
in
Ignorance
,
how
blest
were
I
?
But
Nymph
,
a
falser
thing
did
never
sigh
:
Curse
on
his
Charms
;
accurst
the
unlucky
day
,
He
sought
by
chance
his
wandred
flocks
this
way
;
When
gay
and
careless
,
leaning
on
my
Crook
,
My
roving
Eyes
this
fatal
Captive
took
,
Well
I
remember
yet
with
what
a
grace
The
Youthful
Conquerer
made
his
first
address
;
How
moving
,
how
resistless
were
his
sighs
;
How
soft
his
Tongue
,
how
very
soft
his
Eyes
.
When
spight
of
all
my
Natural
Disdain
,
I
fell
a
Victim
to
the
smiling
Swain
!
Ah
,
how
much
blest
,
how
happy
had
I
been
,
Had
I
his
lovely
killing
Eyes
ne're
seen
!
In
these
delightsome
Pastures
long
I
kept
My
harmless
flocks
,
and
as
much
pleasure
reapt
,
In
being
all
I
hop'd
to
be
,
as
they
,
Whose
awful
Nods
subjected
Nations
sway
.
The
Shepherds
made
it
all
their
care
to
gain
My
heart
,
which
knew
no
passion
but
disdain
,
Till
this
Young
Swain
,
the
Pride
of
all
our
Grove
,
Into
my
soul
infus'd
the
bane
of
Love
.