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The Second Pastoral.
THENOT.COLINET.
THENOT.
Thy cloudy Looks why melting thus in Tears,
Unseemly, now that Heav'n so blithe appears?
Why in this mournful Manner art thou found,
Unthankful Lad, when all things smile around?
Hear how the Lark and Linnet joyntly sing!
Their Notes soft-warb'ling to the gladsome Spring.
Thy cloudy Looks why melting thus in Tears,
Unseemly, now that Heav'n so blithe appears?
Why in this mournful Manner art thou found,
Unthankful Lad, when all things smile around?
Hear how the Lark and Linnet joyntly sing!
Their Notes soft-warb'ling to the gladsome Spring.
COLINET.
Tho' soft their Notes, not so my wayward Fate:
Nor Lark would sing, nor Linnet in my State.
Each Creature to his proper Task is born;
As they to Mirth and Musick, I to mourn.
Waking, at Midnight, I my Woes renew,
And with my Tears increase the falling Dew.
Tho' soft their Notes, not so my wayward Fate:
Nor Lark would sing, nor Linnet in my State.
Each Creature to his proper Task is born;
As they to Mirth and Musick, I to mourn.
Waking, at Midnight, I my Woes renew,
And with my Tears increase the falling Dew.
THENOT.
Small Cause, I ween, has lusty Youth to plain;
Or who may then the Weight of Age sustain,
When, as our waining Strength does daily cease,
The tiresome Burden doubles its Increase?
Yet tho' with Years my Body downwards tend,
As Trees beneath their Fruit in Autumn bend;
My mind a chearful Temper still retains,
Spite of my snowy Head and icy Veins:
For, why should Man at cross Mishaps repine,
Sour all his Sweet, and mix with Tears his Wine?
But speak: For much it may relieve thy Woe
To let a Friend thy inward Ailment know.
Small Cause, I ween, has lusty Youth to plain;
Or who may then the Weight of Age sustain,
When, as our waining Strength does daily cease,
The tiresome Burden doubles its Increase?
Yet tho' with Years my Body downwards tend,
As Trees beneath their Fruit in Autumn bend;
My mind a chearful Temper still retains,
Spite of my snowy Head and icy Veins:
For, why should Man at cross Mishaps repine,
Sour all his Sweet, and mix with Tears his Wine?
But speak: For much it may relieve thy Woe
To let a Friend thy inward Ailment know.
COLINET.
'Twill idly waste thee, Thenot, a whole Day,
Should'st thou give Ear to all my Grief can say.
Thy Ewes will wander, and the heedless Lambs
With loud Complaints require their absent Dams.
'Twill idly waste thee, Thenot, a whole Day,
Should'st thou give Ear to all my Grief can say.
Thy Ewes will wander, and the heedless Lambs
With loud Complaints require their absent Dams.
THENOT.
