Love And Friendship. A Pastoral.

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.

A PASTORAL.

Two nymphs to whom the pow'rs of verse belong, Alike ambitious to excel in song, With equal sweetness sang alternate strains, And courteous echo told the list'ning plains; That of her lover sung, this of her friend; Ye rural nymphs and village swains attend.

Celia.

O Love, soft sov'reign, ruler of the heart! Deep are thy wounds, and pleasing is the smart; When Strephon smiles the wint'ry fields look gay, Cold hearts are warm'd, and hard ones melt away.

Sylvia.

Through ev'ry scene of temp'ral bliss is there A greater blessing than a friend sincere? 'Tis Corydon that bears that tender name, And Sylvia's breast returns the gen'rous flame.

Celia.

When happy I survey my Strephon's charms, His beauty holds me faster than his arms, My heart is in a flood of pleasures toss'd, I faint, I die, and am in raptures lost.

Sylvia.

And what are all these tumults of the heart, But certain omens of a future smart? In friendship we more solid comforts find, It cheers the heart, nor leaves a sting behind.

Celia.

Surely no lark in spring was e'er so glad To see the morn, as I to see my lad; At his approach all anxious griefs remove, And ev'ry other joy gives place to love.

Sylvia.

O happy I! with such a friend to live! Our joys united double pleasure give; Our inmost thoughts with freedom we unfold, And grief's no longer grief, when once 'tis told.

Celia.

All that is lovely in my swain I find, But am to all his imperfections blind; What have I said? I surely do him wrong, No imperfections can to him belong.

Sylvia.

The faithful friend sees with impartial eyes, Nor scorns reproof, but speaks without disguise; Blind to all faults, the eager lover sues, Friends see aright, and ev'ry fault excuse.

Then Daphne from beneath a hawthorn sprung, Where she attentive sat to hear the song; Her breast was conscious of the tender glow, That faithful friends, in mutual friendship know; Her tender heart, by love's impulses mov'd, With ardour beat to sing the swain she lov'd; With emulation fir'd, the conscious maid Thus to the fair contending virgins said.

Daphne.

Blest Celia, happy in a lover dear; Blest Sylvia, happy in a friend sincere; But surely I am doubly blest to find, At once a friend sincere, and lover kind; My Thirsis is my friend, my friend I say And who in love can bear a greater sway Strephon must his superior power own, Nor is he less sincere than Corydon.