Classic Poem

Goatherd . I dare not, faith I dare not pipe at Noon ,
Affraid of Pan , for when his Hunting's done,
And He lyes down to sleep by purling streams,
He's very touchy if we break his dreams:
But Thyrsis (for you know fair Daphnis pains,
And singst the best of all the tuneful Swains)
Let's go and sit beneath yon Myrtle boughs,
Where stands Priapus , and the Nymphs repose,
Where thy Hut 's built and many an Acorn grows,
And there if thou wilt pipe as sweet a Lay
As when you strove with Crome and wan the day,
Ile give Thee my best Goat , a lovely white;
She suckles Two, yet fills Three Pails at night;
Besides a Cup with sweetest Wax o're lay'd,
A fine Two-handled Pot, and newly made:
Still of the Tool it smells, it neatly shines,
And round the brim a creeping Ivy twines
With Crocus mixt; where Kids do seem to brouze,
The Berryes crop, and wanton in the boughs:
Within a Woman sits, a work divine,
Thro envious vails her dazling Beauty's shine,
And all around neat Woers offer Love,
They strive, they quarrel, but they cannot move:
Now smiling here, now there she casts her Eyes,
And now to These , now Those her mind applyes:
Whilst They, their Eyes swoln big with watchful pain,
Still Love, still beg, but all, poor hearts , in vain.
Near These a Fisher on white Rocks is set,
He seems to gather up to cast his Net:
He stands as labouring, and his Limbs appear
All stretcht, and in his face mix hope and fear:
The Nerves in's Neck are swoln, look firm and strong,
All-tho He's old , and fit for one that's Young :
Next him ripe Grapes in blushing Clusters twine,
And a fair Boy sits by to keep the Vine:
On either side a Fox ; one widely gapes,
He eyes the Vines, and spoils the ripning Grapes:
The other minds the Skrip, resolv'd to seize
And rob the Fondling of his Bread and Cheese;
While He sets idly busy, neatly tyes
Soft tender twigs, and frames a Net for Flyes;
Pleas'd with his vain designes, a careless Boy,
And more than Grapes or Skrip he minds the Toy.
Round all a Creeping Woodbine doth aspire,
A curious sight, i'me sure you must admire:
'Twas Calydons , but when he crost the Seas
I bought it for a Goat , and Rammel Cheese:
It never toucht my Lips, unsoild, and new,
And this I freely will present to you,
If you will sing how in the shady Grove
Young Daphnis pin'd, and how He dy'd for Love.
I am in Earnest, I will love Thee long,
And surely mind the favour of thy song.