Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/199

Past. X. Sing then, my Gallus, and his hopeless Vows; Sing, while my Cattle crop the tender Browze. The vocal Grove shall answer to the Sound, And Echo, from the Vales, the tuneful Voice rebound. What Lawns or Woods withheld you from his Aid, Ye Nymphs, when Gallus was to Love betray'd; To Love, unpity'd by the cruel Maid? Not steepy Pindus cou'd retard your Course, Nor cleft Parnassus, nor th' Aonian Source: Nothing that owns the Muses cou'd suspend Your Aid to Gallus, Gallus is their Friend. For him the lofty Laurel stands in Tears; And hung with humid Pearls the lowly Shrub appears. Mænalian Pines the Godlike Swain bemoan; When spread beneath a Rock he sigh'd alone; And cold Lycæus wept from every dropping Stone. The Sheep surround their Shepherd, as he lyes: Blush not, sweet Poet, nor the name despise: Along the Streams his Flock Adonis fed; And yet the Queen of Beauty blest his Bed. The Swains and tardy Neat-herds came, and last Menalcas, wet with beating Winter Mast. Wond'ring, they ask'd from whence arose thy Flame; Yet, more amaz'd, thy own Apollo came. Flush'd were his Cheeks, and glowing were his Eyes: Is she thy Care, is she thy Care, he cries? Thy false Lycoris flies thy Love and thee; And for thy Rival tempts the raging Sea, The Forms of horrid War, and Heav'ns Inclemency.