Classic Poem

THE FIFTH PASTORAL

OR, DAPHNIS

M ENALCAS

Since on the downs our flocks together feed,
And since my voice can match your tuneful reed,
Why sit we not beneath the grateful shade
Which hazels, intermix'd with elms, have made?

M OPSUS

Whether you please that sylvan scene to take,
Where whistling winds uncertain shadows make;
Or will you to the cooler cave succeed,
Whose mouth the curling vines have overspread?

M ENALCAS

Your merit and your years command the choice;
Amyntas only rivals you in voice.

M OPSUS

What will not that presuming shepherd dare,
Who thinks his voice with Phaebus may compare?

M ENALCAS

Begin you first: if either Alcon's praise,
Or dying Phyllis, have inspir'd your lays;
If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend,
Begin, and Tityrus your flock shall tend.

M OPSUS

Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat,
Which on the beech's bark I lately writ?
I writ, and sung betwixt. Now bring the swain.
Whose voice you boast, and let him try the strain.

M ENALCAS

Such as the shrub to the tall olive shows,
Or the pale sallow to the blushing rose;
Such is his voice, if I can judge aright,
Compar'd to thine, in sweetness and in height.

M OPSUS

No more, but sit and hear the promis'd lay;
The gloomy grotto makes a doubtful day.
The nymphs about the breathless body wait
Of Daphnis, and lament his cruel fate.
The trees and floods were witness to their tears;
At length the rumor reach'd his mother's ears.
The wretched parent, with a pious haste,
Came running, and his lifeless limbs embrac'd.
She sigh'd, she sobb'd; and, furious with despair,
She rent her garments, and she tore her hair,
Accusing all the gods, and every star.
The swains forgot their sheep, nor near the brink
Of running waters brought their herds to drink.
The thirsty cattle, of themselves, abstain'd
From water, and their grassy fare disdain'd.
The death of Daphnis woods and hills deplore;
They cast the sound to Libya's desart shore;
The Libyan lions hear, and hearing roar.
Fierce tigers Daphuis taught the yoke to bear,
And first with curling ivy dress'd the spear:
Daphnis did rites to Bacchus first ordain,
And holy revels for his reeling train.
As vines the trees, as grapes the vines adorn,
As bulls the herds, and fields the yellow corn;
So bright a splendor, so divine a grace,
The glorious Daphnis cast on his illustrious race.
When envious Fate the godlike Daphnis took,
Our guardian gods the fields and plains forsook;
Pales no longer swell'd the teeming grain,
Nor Phaebus fed his oxen on the plain;
No fruitful crop the sickly fields return,
But oats and darnel choke the rising corn;
And where the vales with violets once were crown'd,
Now knotty burs and thorns disgrace the ground.
Come, shepherds, come, and strow with leaves the plain;
Such funeral rites your Daphnis did ordain.
With cypress boughs the crystal fountains hide,
And softly let the running waters glide.
A lasting monument to Daphnis raise,
With this inscription to record his praise:
" Daphnis, the fields' delight, the shepherd's love,
Renown'd on earth, and deified above;
Whose flock excell'd the fairest on the plains,
But less than he himself surpass'd the swains. "

M ENALCAS

O heavenly poet! such thy verse appears,
So sweet, so charming to my ravish'd ears,
As to the weary swain, with cares oppress'd,
Beneath the sylvan shade, refreshing rest;
As to the feverish traveler, when first
He finds a crystal stream to quench his thirst.
In singing, as in piping, you excel:
And scarce your master could perform so well.
O fortunate young man, at least your lays
Are next to his, and claim the second praise.
Such as they are, my rural songs I join,
To raise our Daphnis to the pow'rs divine;
For Daphnis was so good, to love whate'er was mine.

M OPSUS

How is my soul with such a promise rais'd!
For both the boy was worthy to be prais'd,
And Stimichon has often made me long
To hear, like him, so soft, so sweet a song.

M ENALCAS

Daphnis, the guest of heav'n, with wond'ring eyes,
Views, in the Milky Way, the starry skies,
And far beneath him, from the shining sphere,
Beholds the moving clouds, and rolling year.
For this, with cheerful cries the woods resound,
The purple spring arrays the various ground,
The nymphs and shepherds dance, and Pan himself is crown'd.
The wolf no longer prowls for nightly spoils,
Nor birds the springes fear, nor stags the toils;
For Daphnis reigns above, and deals from thence
His mother's milder beams, and peaceful influence.
The mountain tops unshorn, the rocks rejoice;
The lowly shrubs partake of human voice.
Assenting Nature, with a gracious nod,
Proclaims him, and salutes the new-admitted god.
Be still propitious, ever good to thine!
Behold, four hallow'd altars we design;
And two to thee, and two to Phaebus rise;
On both are offer'd annual sacrifice.
The holy priests, at each returning year,
Two bowls of milk, and two of oil shall bear;
And I myself the guests with friendly bowls will cheer.
Two goblets will I crown with sparkling wine,
The gen'rous vintage of the Chian vine;
These will I pour to thee, and make the nectar thine.
In winter shall the genial feast be made
Before the fire; by summer, in the shade.
Damaetas shall perform the rites divine,
And Lyctian Ægon in the song shall join.
Alphesibaeus, tripping, shall advance,
And mimic Satyrs in his antic dance.
When to the nymphs our annual rites we pay,
And when our fields with victims we survey;
While savage boars delight in shady woods,
And finny fish inhabit in the floods;
While bees on thyme, and locusts feed on dew,
Thy grateful swains these honors shall renew.
Such honors as we pay to pow'rs divine,
To Bacchus and to Ceres, shall be thine.
Such annual honors shall be giv'n; and thou
Shalt hear, and shalt condemn thy suppliants to their vow.

M OPSUS

What present worth thy verse can Mopsus find!
Not the soft whispers of the southern wind,
That play thro' trembling trees, delight me more;
Nor murm'ring billows on the sounding shore;
Nor winding streams, that thro' the valley glide,
And the scarce-cover'd pebbles gently chide.

M ENALCAS

Receive you first this tuneful pipe, the same
That play'd my Corydon's unhappy flame;
The same that sung Neaera's conqu'ring eyes,
And, had the judge been just, had won the prize.

M OPSUS

Accept from me this sheephook in exchange;
The handle brass, the knobs in equal range.
Antigenes, with kisses, often tried
To beg this present, in his beauty's pride,
When youth and love are hard to be denied.
But what I could refuse to his request,
Is yours unask'd, for you deserve it best.