Classic Poem

TO MR. DODDINGTON ,

Afterwards Lord Melcombe Regis.

Hear, Doddington! the notes that shepherds sing,
Like those that warbling hail the genial spring:
Nor Pan nor Phaebus tunes our artless reeds,
From Love alone their melody proceeds;
From Love Theocritus on Enna's plains
Learnt the wild sweetness of his Dorick strains;
Young Maro touch'd by his inspiring dart
Could charm each ear and soften ev'ry heart;
Me too his pow'r has reach'd, and bids with thine
My rustick pipe in pleasing concert join.
Damon no longer sought the silent shade,
No more in unfrequented paths he stray'd,
But call'd the swains to hear his jocund song,
And told his joy to all the rural throng.
" Blest be the hour, " he said, " that happy hour,
" When first I own'd my Delia's gentle pow'r!
" Then gloomy discontent and pining care
" Forsook my breast and left soft wishes there;
" Soft wishes there they left and gay desires,
" Delightful languors and transporting fires.
" Where yonder limes combine to form a shade
" These eyes first gaz'd upon the charming maid;
" There she appear'd on that auspicious day
" When swains their sportive rites to Bacchus pay:
" She led the dance — Heav'ns! with what grace she " mov'd!
" Who could have seen her then and not have lov'd?
" I strove not to resist so sweet a flame,
" But glory'd in a happy captive's name,
" Nor would I now, could Love permit, be free,
" But leave to brutes their savage liberty.
" And art thou then, fond Youth! secure of joy?
" Can no reverse thy flatt'ring bliss destroy?
" Has treach'rous Love no torment yet in store?
" Or hast thou never prov'd his fatal pow'r?
" Whence flow'd those tears that late bedew'd thy cheek?
" Why sigh'd thy heart as if it strove to break?
" Why were the desert rocks invok'd to hear
" The plaintive accent of thy sad despair?
" From Delia's rigour all those pains arose,
" Delia! who now compassionates my woes,
" Who bids me Hope, and in that charming word
" Has peace and transport to my soul restor'd.
" Begin, my Pipe! begin the gladsome jay,
" A kiss from Delia shall thy musick pay,
" A kiss obtain'd twixt struggling and consent,
" Giv'n with forc'd anger and disguis'd content.
" No laureate wreaths I ask to bind my brows
" Such as the Muse on lofty bards bestows;
" Let other swains to praise or fame aspire,
" I from her lips my recompense require.
" Why stays my Delia in her secret bow'r?
" Light gales have chas'd the late impending show'r,
" Th' emerging sun more bright his beams extends,
" Oppos'd its beateous arch the rainbow bends,
" Glad youths and maidens turn the new-made hay,
" The birds renew their songs on ev'ry spray;
" Come forth, my Love! thyshepherd's joys to crown;
" All Nature smiles — will only Delia frown?
" Hark how the bees with murmurs fill the plain
" While ev'ry flow'r of ev'ry sweet they drain:
" See how beneath yon' hillock's shady steep
" The shelter'd herds on flow'ry couches sleep:
" Nor bees nor herds are half so blest as I
" If with my fond desires my love comply;
" From Delia's lips a sweeter honey flows;
" And on her bosom dwells more soft repose.
" Ah how, my Dear! shall I deserve thy charms?
" What gift can bribe thee to my longing arms?
" A bird for thee in silken bands I hold,
" Whose yellow plumage shines like polish'd gold;
" From distant isles the lovely stranger came,
" And bears the Fortunate Canaries' name;
" In all our woods none boasts so sweet a note,
" Not ev'n the nightingale's melodious throat:
" Accept of this, and could I add beside
" What wealth the rich Peruvian mountains hide,
" If all the gems in eastern rocks were mine,
" On thee alone their glitt'ring pride should shine:
" But if thy mind no gifts have pow'r to move
" Phaebus himself shall leave th' Aonian grove;
" The tuneful Nine, who never sue in vain,
" Shall come sweet suppliants for their fav'rite swain:
" For him each blueey'd Naiad of the flood,
" For him each greenhair'd sister of the wood,
" Whom oft' beneath fair Cynthia's gentle ray
" His musick calls to dance the night away.
" And you, fair Nymphs! companions of my love,
" With whom she joys the cowslip meads to rove,
" I beg you recommend my faithful flame,
" And let her often hear her shepherd's name:
" Shade all my faults from her inquiring sight,
" And shew my merits in the fairest light;
" My pipe your kind assistance shall repay,
" And ev'ry friend shall claim a diff'rent lay.
" But see! in yonder glade the heav'nly fair
" Enjoys the fragrance of the breezy air. —
" Ah! thither let me fly with eager feet;
" Adieu, my Pipe! I go my love to meet. —
" O may I find her as we parted last,
" And may each future hour be like the past!
" So shall the whitest lamb these pastures feed,
" Propitious Venus! on thy altars bleed. "