We had not got half way, nor yet discerned
The tomb of Brasilas, when we overtook
Travelling along, a favourite of the Muses, —
A goatherd, of the name of Lycidas;
And goatherd well he seemed; for on his shoulders
There hung a whitish goatskin, hairy and thick
Smelling of the fresh curd; about his body
Was an old vest, tied with a woven girdle;
And in his hand he bore a crooked stick
Made of wild olive. Placidly he turned,
A little smile parting his kindly mouth,
And with a genial eye accosting me,
Said, " Ah, Theocritus! and where go you

Once on a time myself and Eucritus
Went out of town, taking Amyntas with us,
To join a sacrifice to Ceres, made
By Phrasidamus and Antigenes,
Sons of Lycopeus, and descended too
(If that is any thing) from Clitias,
Ay, and from Chalcon, who with his stout knee
Against the rock dug up the Burian fountain,
Where elms and poplars make a shadowy grove
Full-haired, and keep a covert of green leaves
We had not got half way, nor yet discerned
The tomb of Brasilas, when we overtook
Travelling along, a favourite of the Muses, —

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,

To Charles Viner of Wadham College, Esquire

Wine, Friend, and Truth, the Proverb says, agree,
And now I'me heated take this Truth from me;
The Secrets that lay deep and hid before
Now rais'd by Wine swim up, and bubble o're;
Then take this riseing Truth I can't controul:
Thou dost not Love Me, Youth, with all thy Soul;
I know it, for this half of Life I boast
I have from you, the other half is lost:
When e're you smile I rival Gods above,
Grown perfect, and exulted by thy Love;
But when you frown, and when dislike you show,

Daphnis . The Shepheard Paris bore the Spartan Bride
By force away, and then by force enjoy'd;
But I by free consent can boast a Bliss,
A fairer Helen , and a sweeter kiss.
CHLORIS . Kisses are empty joyes and soon are o're.
DAPH . A Kiss betwixt the lips is something more.
CHLO . I wipe my mouth, and where's your kissing then?
DAPH . I swear you wipe it to be kiss'd agen.
CHLO . Go tend your Herd, and kiss your Cows at home;

The shepherd Paris bore the Spartan bride
By force away, and then by force enjoyed;
But I by free consent can boast a bliss,
A fairer Helen, and a sweeter kiss. Chloris
Kisses are empty joys, and soon are o'er. Daphnis
A kiss betwixt the lips is something more. Chloris
I wipe my mouth, and where's your kissing then? Daphnis
I swear you wipe it to be kissed again. Chloris
Go tend your herd, and kiss your cows at home;
I am a maid, and in my beauties' bloom. Daphnis
'Tis well remembered: do not waste your time,

battus:Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee say.
corydon:No, AEgon: and he gave them me to tend while he's away.
battus:Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to see?
corydon:The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on me.
battus:And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful lord?
corydon:Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elisward.
battus:How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by him?
corydon:Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb.

Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work,
O Diophantus: for the child of toil
Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares:
Or, if he taste the blessedness of night,
Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off.
Two ancient fishers once lay side by side
On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut,
Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay
The weapons of their trade, basket and rod,
Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars,
And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat.
Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out

thyrsis:Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes
Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet
Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone.
Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat.
Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid;
And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids.

goatherd:Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams
Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag.
If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe,
Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose
The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe.

Every night from eve till morn,
Love's chorister amid the thorn
Is now so sweet a singer;
So sweet, as for her song I scorn
A pollo's voice and finger.

But nightingale, since you delight
Ever to watch the starry night,
Tell all the stars of heaven,
Heaven never had a star so bright,
As now to earth is given.

Royal Astraea makes our day
Eternal with her beams, nor may
Gross darkness overcome her.
I now perceive why some do write,
No country hath so short a night,
As England hath in summer.