And fancies fond 2 with gaudy shapes possess, As thick and numberless As the gay motes that people the sunbeams, Or likest hovering dreams, The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. But hail, thou Goddess sage and holy, Whose saintly visage is too bright And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Aye round about Jove's altar sing; folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among, 55 60 65 15 On the dry smooth-shaven green, To behold the wandering moon Riding near her highest noon, Like one that had been led astray To hit the sense of human sight, Yet thou art higher far descended: His daughter she (in Saturn's reign All in a robe of darkest grain, ? foolish. 20 25 30 95 100 Where I may oft outwatch the Bear ear. 105 115 120 125 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 135 2 adorned. Shatter your leaves before the mellowing With wild thyme and the gadding vine Toward heaven's descent had sloped his To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's westering wheel. trade, 65 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 70 3 fattening. And slits the thin-spun life. "But not the praise," Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears: "Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil 80 Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; O fountain Arethuse, and thou honored flood, 85 Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood: And listens to the herald of the sea, 90 He asked the waves, and asked the felon1 winds, What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain? And questioned every gust of rugged wings That blows from off each beaked promontory: They know not of his story; 95 But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread; Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. 135 Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers. use5 Of shades and wanton winds and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, 3 accomplish their end. 5 dwell. harsh, discordant. the Dog-star, Sirius. more; Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood. Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills, 186 While the still morn went out with sandals grey; He touched the tender stops of various quills,8 With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the sun had stretched out all the hills, 190 And now was dropped into the western bay. At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue: To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures |