A
PASTORAL
.
[
Young
Corydon
,
a
blithesome
swain
]
Young
Corydon
,
a
blithesome
swain
,
As
ever
tended
sheep
,
Upon
the
verdant
banks
of
Leam
,
Was
wont
his
flock
to
keep
.
One
ev'ning
when
the
rising
Moon
Was
peeping
in
the
flood
,
And
ev'ry
bird
that
sings
by
day
,
Sat
silent
in
the
wood
.
With
dog
and
staff
he
took
his
way
,
And
whistled
as
he
went
;
To
gather
up
his
straying
ewes
,
Was
all
the
shepherd
meant
.
And
while
he
sought
the
meadows
round
,
Where
they
were
wont
to
stray
,
A
maid
more
lovely
than
his
ewes
,
Came
tripping
o'er
the
way
.
The
sheep
no
longer
fill'd
his
thoughts
,
The
nymph
was
all
his
care
;
And
thus
the
gentle
shepherd-swain
,
Address'd
the
tender
fair
.
Corydon
.
Why
comes
my
nymph
so
late
abroad
,
To
wander
in
the
vale
;
To
hear
the
murmuring
of
the
flood
,
And
see
the
moon
shine
pale
?
Or
is
it
an
appointed
hour
To
meet
some
happy
swain
?
For
maids
are
seldom
seen
alone
So
late
upon
the
plain
.
Pastora
.
I've
been
a
visit
to
a
friend
,
That
lives
by
yonder
grove
,
Where
shepherds
tell
their
tender
tales
,
And
list'ning
virgins
rove
:
I
with
my
friend
conversing
stood
,
Abstracted
from
all
care
,
The
sun
went
down
,
and
night
drew
on
Before
I
was
aware
.
Corydon
.
The
swains
were
surely
all
unkind
,
That
such
a
maid
as
you
Should
e'er
be
seen
to
walk
alone
,
And
in
the
ev'ning
too
:
Now
Corydon
most
gladly
will
Attend
you
if
he
may
;
You
see
the
moon
is
hasting
on
,
Then
why
should
we
delay
?
He
said
,
and
took
her
by
the
hand
;
O
happy
shepherd
he
!
Pastora
too
was
pleas'd
as
well
As
shepherdess
could
be
.
The
swain
no
longer
sought
around
,
His
straying
ewes
to
find
:
O
happy
nymphs
that
live
in
plains
,
Where
shepherds
are
so
kind
.