Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/183

Past. VIII. They hear the Hinds, they hear their God complain; Who suffer'd not the Reeds to rise in vain: Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Mænalian Strain.


 * Mopsus triumphs; he weds the willing Fair:

When such is Nisa's choice, what Lover can despair! Now Griffons join with Mares; another Age Shall see the Hound and Hind their Thirst asswage, Promiscuous at the Spring: Prepare the Lights, O Mopsus! and perform the bridal Rites. Scatter thy Nuts among the scrambling Boys: Thine is the Night; and thine the Nuptial Joys. For thee the Sun declines: O happy Swain! Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Mænalian Strain.


 * O, Nisa! Justly to thy Choice condemn'd,

Whom hast thou taken, whom hast thou contemn'd! For him, thou hast refus'd my browzing Herd, Scorn'd my thick Eye-brows, and my shaggy Beard. Unhappy Damon sighs, and sings in vain: While Nisa thinks no God regards a Lover's pain. Begin with me, my Flute, the sweet Mænalian Strain.


 * I view'd thee first; how fatal was the View!

And led thee where the ruddy Wildings grew, High on the planted hedge, and wet with Morning Dew. Then scarce the bending Branches I cou'd win; The callow Down began to cloath my Chin;