Page:The Poems of John Dyer (1903).djvu/70

Soon our unaching heads to sleep inclines.
Is it in cities so? where, poets tell,
The cries of Sorrow sadden all the streets,
And the diseases of intemp'rate wealth. 645
Alas ! that any ills from wealth should rise ! "
"May the sweet nightingale on yonder spray,
May this clear stream, those lawns, these snow-white lambs,
Which with a pretty innocence of look
Skip on the green, and race in little troops; 650
May that great lamp which sinks behind the hills,
And streams around variety of lights,
Recall them erring ! this is Damon's wish."
"Huge Breaden's stony summit once I climb'd
After a kidling : Damon, what a scene ! 655
What various views unnumber'd spread beneath !
Woods, tow'rs, vales, caves, dells, cliffs, and torrent floods,
And here and there, between the spiry rocks,
The broad flat sea. Far nobler prospects these
Than gardens black with smoke in dusty towns, 660
Where stenchy vapours often blot the sun:
Yet, flying from his quiet, thither crowds
Each greedy wretch for tardy-rising wealth,
Which comes too late, that courts the taste in vain,
Or nauseates with distempers. Yes, ye Rich! 665
Still, still be rich, if thus ye fashion life ;
And piping, careless, silly shepherds we,
We silly shepherds, all intent to feed
Our snowy flocks, and wind the sleeky Fleece."
" Deem not, however, our occupation mean," 670
Damon reply'd," while the Supreme accounts
Well of the faithful shepherd, rank'd alike
With king and priest: they also shepherds are;
For so th' All-seeing styles them, to remind