A
PASTORAL
ELEGY
.
I
Ye
nymphs
,
ah
!
give
ear
to
my
lay
,
Your
pastime
I
prithe'
give
o'er
,
For
Damon
the
youthful
and
gay
,
Is
gone
,
—
and
our
joys
are
no
more
.
That
Shepherd
so
blithsome
and
fair
,
Whose
truth
was
the
pride
of
the
plains
,
Has
left
us
alas
!
in
despair
,
For
no
such
a
Shepherd
remains
.
II
His
life
was
a
compound
of
joy
,
Pure
innocence
guided
each
thought
,
No
envy
his
bliss
cou'd
annoy
,
For
with
virtue
his
bosom
was
fraught
.
He
scorn'd
to
deceive
or
betray
,
Fair
truth
ever
dwelt
in
his
sight
,
He
always
was
blithsome
and
gay
,
And
to
please
was
his
only
delight
.
III
In
the
shade
when
reclin'd
on
his
crook
,
To
hear
his
melodious
strains
,
My
flocks
I
have
often
forsook
,
To
wander
alone
on
the
plains
.
Each
bird
did
attend
on
the
spray
,
The
zephers
did
play
on
the
trees
,
Sweet
harmony
join'd
the
soft
lay
,
And
whisper'd
his
praise
in
each
breeze
.
IV
My
lambkins
are
straying
far
wide
,
The
lilly
reclines
her
fair
head
,
My
crook
is
with
scorn
thrown
aside
,
For
alas
!
my
sweet
Shepherd
is
dead
.
I
will
riffle
the
jessamin
bow'rs
,
To
deck
the
green
turf
on
his
breast
,
With
myrtle
and
sweet
scented
flow'rs
,
My
Damon's
cold
grave
shall
be
dress'd
.
V
While
Eglantine
sheds
a
perfume
,
Or
peace
is
Pastora's
desire
,
While
the
cowslip
continues
to
bloom
,
Or
the
rose
is
adorn'd
with
a
brier
.
While
the
lambkins
shall
graze
on
the
plain
,
Or
the
nightingale
warble
its
lay
,
As
long
as
old
time
shall
remain
,
His
memory
ne'er
shall
decay
.
VI
But
alas
!
the
lov'd
youth
is
no
more
,
Each
stream
shall
repeat
the
sad
sound
,
Each
Shepherd
the
loss
shall
deplore
,
And
his
fate
thro'
the
grove
shall
resound
.
Since
truth
like
my
Damon's
must
yield
,
To
death
,
that
invincible
foe
,
Ye
swains
,
ah
!
make
virtue
your
shield
,
Nor
tremble
to
meet
the
dire
blow
.