| Citation |
NYWJ.738.010
9 Oct 1738:41 (264)
A PASTORAL ELEGY.
When Phebus had lain off his golden vest,
As if displeas'd and fainting in the west.
Young Corydon sat venting of his signs,
When thus resounding trees echo'd his cries.
Ye woods that by the rustling northern breese,
Send murm'ring tones thro' all the neighb'ring trees
No more your echo's can delightsome be,
Since angry Jove has aim'd his wrath at me.
. . . [34 lines]
As oft as Phebus from the north doth rowl,
And seeks with eager past the southern pole.
Then shall be sung this was the fatal time,
That struck the nymph who void of any crime.
. . . [4 lines]
To us but not to her for now in rest,
She sings Hallelujas among the blest.
Henceforth I will devote my waxen reeds,
Only to sing blest Amarilla's deeds.
. . . [8 more lines]
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