CUDDY. And bashful into woods and thickets fly, Mistrusting then our skill; yet if through time Our voice, improving, gain a pitch sublime, 4 Thy growing virtues, Sackville, shall engage My riper verse, and more aspiring age.
The sun, now mounted to the noon of day, Began to shoot direct his burning ray; 8 When, with the flocks, their feeders sought the shade A venerable oak wide-spreading made: What should they do to pass the loitering time? As fancy led, each form'd his tale in rhyme: 12 And some the joys, and some the pains, of love, And some to set out strange adventures, strove, The trade of wizards some, and Merlin's skill, And whence, to charms, such empire o'er the will. 16 Then Cuddy last (who Cuddy can excel In neat device?) his tale began to tell.
"When shepherds flourish'd in Eliza's reign, "There liv'd in high repute a jolly swain, 20 "Young Colin Clout; who well could pipe and sing, "And by his notes invite the lagging spring. "He, as his custom was, at leisure laid "In woodland bower, without a rival play'd, 24 "Soliciting his pipe to warble clear, "Enchantment sweet as ever wont to hear "Belated wayfarers, from wake or fair "Detain'd by musick, hovering on in air: 28 "Drawn by the magick of the inticing sound, "What troops of mute admirers flock'd around! "The steerlings left their food; and creatures, wild "By nature form'd, insensibly grew mild. 32 "He makes the gathering birds about him throng, "And loads the neighbouring branches with his song: "There, with the crowd, a nightingale of fame, "Jealous, and fond of praise, to listen came: She turn'd her ear, and pause by pause, with pride, "Like echo to the shepherd's pipe reply'd. "The shepherd heard with wonder, and again, "To try her more, renew'd his various strain: 40 "To all the various strain the plies her throat, "And adds peculiar grace to every note. "If Colin, in complaining accent grieve, "Or brisker motion to his measure give, 44 "If gentle sounds he modulate, or strong, "She, not a little vain, repeats the song: "But so repeats, that Colin half despis'd "His pipe and skill, around the country priz'd: 48 "And sweetest songster of the winged kind, "What thanks, said he, what praises shall I find "To equal thy melodious voice? In thee "The rudeness of my rural fife I see; 52 "From thee I learn no more to vaunt my skill: "Aloft in air she sate, provoking still "The vanquish'd swain. Provok'd, at last, he strove "To shew the little minstrel of the grove 56 "His utmost powers, determin'd once to try "How art, exerting, might with nature vy; "For vy could none with either in their part, "With her in nature, nor with him in art. 60 "He draws in breath, his rising breast to fill: "Throughout the wood his pipe is hear'd to shrill. "From note to note, in haste, his fingers fly; "Still more and more the numbers multiply: 64 "And now they trill, and now they fall and rise, "And swift and slow they change with sweet surprise. "Attentive she doth scarce the sounds retain; "But to herself first conns the puzzling strain, 68 "And tracing, heedful, note by note repays "The shepherd in his own harmonious lays, "Through every changing cadence runs at length, "And adds in sweetness what she wants in strength: 72 "Then Colin threw his fife disgrac'd aside, "While the loud triumph sings, proclaiming wide "Her mighty conquest, and within her throat "Twirls many a wild unimitable note, 76 "To foil her rival. What could Colin more? "A little harp of maple-ware he bore: "The little harp was old, but newly strung, "Which, usual, he across his shoulders hung. 80 "Now take, delightful bird, my last farewel, "He said, and learn from hence thou dost excel "No trivial artist: and anon he wound "The murmuring strings, and order'd every sound: 84 "Then earnest to his instrument he bends, "And both hands pliant on the strings extends: "His touch the strings obey, and various move, "The lower answering still to those above: 88 "His fingers, restless, traverse to and fro, "As in pursuit of harmony they go: "Now lightly skimming, o'er the strings they pass, "Like winds which gently brush the plying grass, 92 "While melting airs arise at their command: "And now, laborious, with a weighty hand "He sinks into the cords, with solemn pace, "To give the swelling tones a bolder grace; 96 "And now the left, and now by turns the right, "Each other chase, harmonious both in flight: "Then his whole fingers blend a swarm of sounds, "Till the sweet tumult through the harp redounds. 100 "Cease, Colin, cease, thy rival cease to vex; "The mingling notes, alas! her ear perplex: "She warbles, diffident, in hope and fear, "And hits imperfect accents here and there, 104 "And fain would utter forth some double tone, "When soon she falters, and can utter none: "Again she tries, and yet again she fails; "For still the harp's united power prevails. 108 "Then Colin play'd again, and playing sung: "She, with the fatal love of glory stung, "Hears all in pain: her heart begins to swell: "In piteous notes she sighs, in notes which tell 112 "Her bitter anguish: he, still singing, plies "His limber joints: her sorrows higher rise. "How shall she bear a conqueror, who, before, "No equal through the grove in musick bore? 116 "She droops, she hangs her flagging wings, the moans, "And fetcheth from her breast melodious groans. "Oppress'd with grief at last too great to quell, "Down, breathless, on the guilty harp she fell. 120 "Then Colin loud lamented o'er the dead, "And unavailing tears profusely shed, "And broke his wicked strings, and curs'd his skill; "And best to make attonement for the ill, 124 "If, for such ill, attonement might be made, "He builds her tomb beneath a laurel shade, "Then adds a verse, and sets with flowers the ground, "And makes a fence of winding osiers round. 128 "A verse and tomb is all I now can give; "And here thy name at least, he said, shall live.
Thus ended Cuddy with the setting sun, And, by his tale, unenvy'd praises won. 132
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And bashful into woods and thickets fly, _-_Capital_I_type_3.png)
And bashful into woods and thickets fly, _-_end_block_type_3.png)