DAPHNIS. A Pastoral ELEGY on the Death of that hopeful Young Gentleman M
R. FRANCIS WOLLASTON.
Humbly Dedicated to his sorrowful Parents.
‘Audiet extinctus post se sua nomina
Daphnis, Audiet, & priscos animo revocabit amores.’
I.
BEneath a Cypress gloomy shade,
(By Nature for that purpose made)
The Melancholly
Damon lay,
And thus his Griefs invited him to say:
O Cruel Fate! Hard Destiny!
Must I alone, unhappy I,
When all my dear lov'd Swains are gone,
Be doom'd to tarry here alone?
The noble
Strephon went before,
But not content with that rich store,
Little
Alexis was your prize,
And pretty
Mycon Idol of my Eyes:
These (unkind Fates) you took away,
And could not these your fury stay?
Ah no! you've took my
Daphnis too,
Took the lov'd Swain for ever from my View.
II.
Him (ye hard Fates) I now bemoan,
The Great, the God-like
Daphnis dead and gone;
Daphnis, the Glory of our Plain,
Courted by every Nymph, and lov'd by every Swain:
Beauty and Goodness both in him did joyn,
His every part was charming, every part Divine.
Oft' have I seen the lovely Boy,
Adorn'd like some Bright Deity,
Above his fellow Shepherds sit,
While all paid Homage at his Feet.
The Brighter Nymphs would Garlands bring,
Crown him with them, and call him King;
Then every Vale with
Daphnis Praises rung,
Daphnis the Brave, the Good, the Lovely, Gay and Young.
III.
But now (poor Swains) alass! he's gone,
Daphnis has left you all alone,
And to the distant Region's fled,
The Godlike Youth is dead.
Him the relentless Fates will ne're restore,
And you will never see him more,
Till you are carried to those Fields,
Where Nature all Contentment yields.
There's purer Springs, and sweeter Flowers,
More pleasant Groves, and more delightful Bowers:
There those who have lived well, enjoy,
An undisturb'd Felicity.
Pure are their Pleasures, and their Bliss entire,
Beyond what silly we, can fancy or desire.
Thither did your lov'd
Daphnis early come,
His pure refined Soul long'd for it's Home;
Your dull Enjoyments he could ne're Esteem,
All was but noise, and Vanity to him;
'Twas this alone (ye poor Forsaken Swains,)
Made the lov'd Youth, for ever leave your Plains.
IV.
And now, methinks I see,
The Glorious Deitie
Look down from his Bright Seat above,
(His Face all Sweetness and all Love)
And Hark I hear him say,
Shepherds for Daphnis
cease to mourn,
Your sighs and tears to Joyful Musick turn:
For the Blest Swain does now possess,
(What Life could not afford him) Happiness;
Delights, which all desire, but few enjoy,
Ʋnless they live like Daphnis
and like Daphnis
dye.
JOHN CAVE
A. B. Line. Coll.
FINIS.
OXFORD, Printed by Leonard Lichfield, Printer to the University, for the Author. 1685.