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PASTORALS.
Ye flow'rs that droop, forsaken by the spring,
Ye birds, that left by summer, cease to sing,
Ye trees that fade when autumn-heats remove,
Say, is not absence death to those who love?
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away!
Curs'd be the fields that cause my Thyrsis' stay:
Fade ev'ry blossom, wither ev'ry tree,
Die ev'ry flow'r, and perish all, but he.
What have I said? —where-e'er my Thyrsis flies,
Let spring attend, and sudden flow'rs arise;
Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along!
The birds shall cease to tune their ev'ning song,
The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move,
And streams to murmur, e'er I cease to love.
Not bubling fountains to the thirsty Swain,
Not balmy sleep to lab'rers faint with pain,
Not show'rs to Larks, or sunshine to the Bee,
Are half so charming as thy sight to me.
Ye birds, that left by summer, cease to sing,
Ye trees that fade when autumn-heats remove,
Say, is not absence death to those who love?
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away!
Curs'd be the fields that cause my Thyrsis' stay:
Fade ev'ry blossom, wither ev'ry tree,
Die ev'ry flow'r, and perish all, but he.
What have I said? —where-e'er my Thyrsis flies,
Let spring attend, and sudden flow'rs arise;
Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn,
And liquid amber drop from ev'ry thorn.
Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs along!
The birds shall cease to tune their ev'ning song,
The winds to breathe, the waving woods to move,
And streams to murmur, e'er I cease to love.
Not bubling fountains to the thirsty Swain,
Not balmy sleep to lab'rers faint with pain,
Not show'rs to Larks, or sunshine to the Bee,
Are half so charming as thy sight to me.
Go,
