Such and so monstrous let thy Swain appear,
If one day's Absence looks not like a Year.
Hence from the Field, for Shame: the Flock deserves
No better Feeding, while the Shepherd starves.65
CORYDON.
Ye Trees, whose leafy Shades those mossy Fountains keep,
Defend my Flock, the Summer heats are near,
And Blossoms on the swelling Vines appear.
THYRSIS.
And Firs for Torches in the Woods abound:
We fear not more the Winds, and wintry Cold,
Than Streams the Banks, or Wolves the bleating Fold.
CORYDON.
With falling Fruits and Berries paint the Ground;75
And lavish Nature laughs, and strows her Stores around.
But if Alexis from our Mountains fly,
Ev'n running Rivers leave their Channels dry.
THYRSIS.
Nor with'ring Vines their juicy Vintage yield.80
But if returning Phillis bless the Plain,
The Grass revives; the Woods are green again;
And Jove descends in Show'rs of kindly Rain.
CORYDON.
The Brows of Phœbus his own Bays adorn.85