Past. III.
PASTORALS.
19
The same ill taste of Sense wou'd serve to join
Dog Foxes in the Yoak, and sheer the Swine.
DAMÆTAS.
Beware the secret Snake, that shoots a Sting.145
MENALCAS.
The Ground is false, the running Streams are deep:
See, they have caught the Father of the Flock;
Who drys his Fleece upon the neighb'ring Rock.
DAMÆTAS.
Anon I'll wash 'em in the shallow Brook.151
MENALCAS.
In vain the Milk-maid tugs an empty Teat.
DAMÆTAS.
But Love that drains the Herd, destroys the Groom.155
MENALCAS.
Their bones are barely cover'd with their Skin.
What magick has bewitch'd the woolly Dams,
And what ill Eyes beheld the tender Lambs?
DAMÆTAS.
To three short Ells on Earth our sight restrains:161
Tell that, and rise a Phœbus for thy pains.
C 2