22
PASTORALS.
She clasp'd her son: nor did the Nymph, for this,
Place in her dearling's welfare all her bliss,
Him teaching, young, the harmless crook to wield,
And rule the peaceful empire of the field. 64
As milk-white swans on streams of silver show,
And silvery streams to grace the meadows flow,
As corn the vales, and trees the hills adorn,
So thou, to thine, an ornament wast born. 68
Since thou, delicious youth, didst quit the plains,
Th' ungrateful ground we till with fruitless pains,
In labour'd furrows sow the choice of wheat,
And, over empty sheaves, in harvest sweat, 72
A thin increase our fleecy cattle yield;
And thorns, and thistles, overspread the field.
How all our hope is fled, like morning-dew!
And scarce did we thy dawn of manhood view. 76
Who, now, shall teach the pointed spear to throw,
To whirl the sling, and bend the stubborn bow,
To toss the quoit with steady aim, and far,
With sinewy force, to pitch the massy bar? 80
Nor dost thou live to bless thy mother's days,
To share her triumphs, and feel her praise,
In foreign realms to purchase early fame,
And add new glories to the British name: 84
Place in her dearling's welfare all her bliss,
Him teaching, young, the harmless crook to wield,
And rule the peaceful empire of the field. 64
As milk-white swans on streams of silver show,
And silvery streams to grace the meadows flow,
As corn the vales, and trees the hills adorn,
So thou, to thine, an ornament wast born. 68
Since thou, delicious youth, didst quit the plains,
Th' ungrateful ground we till with fruitless pains,
In labour'd furrows sow the choice of wheat,
And, over empty sheaves, in harvest sweat, 72
A thin increase our fleecy cattle yield;
And thorns, and thistles, overspread the field.
How all our hope is fled, like morning-dew!
And scarce did we thy dawn of manhood view. 76
Who, now, shall teach the pointed spear to throw,
To whirl the sling, and bend the stubborn bow,
To toss the quoit with steady aim, and far,
With sinewy force, to pitch the massy bar? 80
Nor dost thou live to bless thy mother's days,
To share her triumphs, and feel her praise,
In foreign realms to purchase early fame,
And add new glories to the British name: 84
O,
