Won by his hospitable friend's desire, He soothed his pains of exile with the lyre. The upland elms descended to the plain, Should he, kind mourner, o'er my deathbed bend, He too, perhaps, shall bid the marble breathe Shall bind my brows-but I shall rest the while. And, every cloud from my pure spirit driven, ON THE DEATH OF DAMON. THE ARGUMENT. Thyrsis and Damon, shepherds and neighbours, had always pursued the same studies, and had, from their earliest days, been united in the closest friendship. Thyrsis, while travelling for improvement, received intelligence of the death of Damon, and, after a time, returning and finding it true, deplores himself, and his solitary condition, in this poem. By Damon is to be understood Charles Deodati, connected with the Italian city of Lucca by his father's side, in other respects an Englishman; a youth of uncommon genius, erudition, and virtue. YE Nymphs of Himera, (for ye have shed Now through the villas laved by Thames rehearse The green wheat twice had nodded in the ear, But, stored at length with all he wish'd to learn, Then 'twas his lot, then all his loss to know, And from his burthen'd heart he vented thus his woe: In heaven, or earth, concern'd for human woes, [due [due "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are To other cares than those of feeding you. Whate'er befall, unless by cruel chance The wolf first give me a forbidding glance, Thou shalt not moulder undeplored, but long Thy praise shall dwell on every shepherd's tongue. To Daphnis first they shall delight to pay, And, after him, to thee the votive lay, While Pales shall the flocks and pastures love, Or Faunus to frequent the field or grove; At least, if ancient piety and truth, With all the learned labours of thy youth, May serve thee aught, or to have left behind A sorrowing friend, and of the tuneful kind. [due "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are Or the huge lion's, arm'd with darts we went ; While hisses on my hearth the pulpy pear, And blackening chestnuts start and crackle there, While storms abroad the dreary meadows whelm, And the wind thunders through the neighbouring elm. "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are To other cares than those of feeding you. [due Or who, when summer suns their summit reach, And Pan sleeps hidden by the sheltering beech, When shepherds disappear, nymphs seek the sedge, And the stretch'd rustic snores beneath the hedge, Who then shall render me thy pleasant vein Of attic wit, thy jests, thy smiles again? [due "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are To other cares than those of feeding you. Where glens and vales are thickest overgrown With tangled boughs, I wander now alone, Till night descend, while blustering wind and shower Beat on my temples through the shatter'd bower. "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are To other cares than those of feeding you. [due Alas! what rampant weeds now shame my fields, And what a mildew'd crop the furrow yields; My rambling vines unwedded to the trees, Bear shrivell'd grapes; my myrtles fail to please; Nor please me more my flocks: they, slighted turn Their unavailing looks on me, and mourn. "Go, seek your home, my lambs; my thoughts are To other cares than those of feeding you. [due |