| |
| WHILST happy I, triumphant stood, | |
| The Pride and Glory of the Wood, | |
| My Aromatic Boughs and Fruit | |
| Did with all other Trees dispute; | |
| Had Right by Nature to excel, | 5 |
| In pleasing both the Taste and Smell; | |
| But to the Touch, I must confess, | |
| Bore an unwilling Sullenness. | |
| My Wealth, like bashful Virgins, I | |
| Yielding with some Reluctancy: | 10 |
| For which my Value should be more, | |
| Not giving easily my Store. | |
| My verdant Branches all the Year | |
| Did an eternal Beauty wear, | |
| Did ever young and gay appear; | 15 |
| Nor do I hold Supremacy, | |
| In all the Wood, o’er ev’ry Tree, | |
| But e’en those two of my own Race, | |
| That grew not in this happy Place. | |
| But that in which I glory most, | 20 |
| And do myself with Reason boast, | |
| Beneath my Shade the other Day | |
| Young Philocles and Chloris lay. | |
| Upon my Root he placed her Head, | |
| And where I grew, he made her Bed; | 25 |
| Whilst I the canopy more largely spread. | |
| Their trembling Limbs did greatly press | |
| The kind supporting yielding grass, | |
| Ne’er half so blessed as now, to bear | |
| A Swain so young, a Nymph so fair. | 30 |
| My gentle Shade I kindly lent, | |
| And ev’ry aiding Bough I bent. | |
| So low, as sometimes had the Bliss | |
| To rob the Shepherd of a Kiss: | |
| Whilst he in Pleasures far above | 35 |
| The Sense of that Degree of Love, | |
| Permitted ev’ry Stealth I made, | |
| Unjealous of his Rival Shade, | |
| I saw ’em kindle to Desire, | |
| Whilst with soft Sighs they blew the Fire; | 40 |
| Saw the Approaches of their Joy, | |
| He grew more fierce, and she less coy: | |
| Saw how they mingled melting Rays, | |
| Exchanging Love a thousand Ways. | |
| Kind was the Force on ev’ry Side; | 45 |
| Her new Desires she could not hide | |
| Nor would the Shepherd be denied. | |
| Impatient, he waits no Consent, | |
| But what she gave by Languishment. | |
| The blessed Minute he pursued, | 50 |
| Whilst Love her Fear and Shame subdued; | |
| And now transported in his Arms, | |
| Yields to the Conqu’ror all her Charms. | |
| His panting Breast to hers now joined, | |
| They feast on Raptures unconfined, | 55 |
| Vast and luxuriant, such as prove | |
| The Immortality of Love. | |
| For, who but a Divinity | |
| Could mingle Souls to that Degree, | |
| And melt ’em into Ecstasy? | 60 |
| Where, like the Phoenix, both expire, | |
| Whilst from the Ashes of their Fire, | |
| Sprung up a new and soft Desire. | |
| Like Charmers, thrice they did invoke | |
| The God, and thrice new Vigour took; | 65 |
| And had the Nymph been half so kind, | |
| As was the Shepherd well inclined, | |
| The Myst’ry had not ended there: | |
| But Chloris re-assum’d her Fear, | |
| And chid the Swain for having prest | 70 |
| What she (alas!) could not resist; | |
| Whilst he, in whom Love’s sacred Flame | |
| Before and After was the same, | |
| Humbly implores she would forget | |
| That Fault, which he would yet repeat, | 75 |
| From active Joys with Shame they haste | |
| To a Reflection on the past: | |
| A thousand Times the Covert bless, | |
| That did secure their Happiness; | |
| Their Gratitude to ev’ry Tree | 80 |
| They pay, but most to happy Me. | |
| The Shepherdess my Bark caressed, | |
| Whilst he my Root (Love’s Pillow) kissed, | |
| And did with Sighs their Fate deplore, | |
| Since I must shelter ’em no more. | 85 |
| And if before my joys were such, | |
| In having heard and seen so much, | |
| My Griefs must be as great and high, | |
| When all abandoned I must lie, | |
| Doomed to a silent Destiny; | 90 |
| No more the silent Strife to hear, | |
| The Shepherd’s Vows, the Virgin’s Fear; | |
| No more a joyful Looker on, | |
| Whilst Love’s soft Battle’s lost and won. | |
| With Grief I bowed my murm’ring Head, | 95 |
| And all my crystal dew I shed, | |
| Which did in Chloris Pity move, | |
| Chloris, whose Soul is made of Love. | |
| She cut me down, and did translate | |
| My being to a happier State: | 100 |
| No Martyr for Religion died | |
| With half that unconsid’ring Pride; | |
| My Top was on the Altar laid, | |
| Where Love his softest Off’rings paid, | |
| And was, as fragrant Incense, burned: | 105 |
| My Body into Busks was turned, | |
| Where I still guard the sacred Store, | |
| And of Love’s Temple keep the Door. | |
| |
