ELICIO. Mine eyes the tender dew shall ever shed Of loving tears, until the memory, Meliso, of thine exploits shall be dead. LAUSO. Meliso, worthy deathless history, Worthy to enjoy on holy Heaven's throne Glory and life through all eternity. THYRSIS. What time I raise myself to heights unknown That I may sing his deeds as I think best, Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone! DAMON. With welling tears, Meliso, that ne'er rest, As best I can, thy friendship I reward, With pious prayers, and holy incense blest. ELICIO. Thy death, alas! our happiness hath marred, And hath to mourning changed our past delight, Unto a tender grief that presseth hard. LAUSO. Those fair and blissful days when all was bright, When the world revelled in thy presence sweet, Have been transformed to cold and wretched night. THYRSIS. Oh Death, that with thy violence so fleet Didst such a life to lowly earth restore,-- What man will not thy diligence defeat? DAMON. Since thou, oh Death, didst deal that blow with power, Which brought to earth our stay 'midst fortune's stress, Ne'er is the meadow clad with grass or flower. ELICIO. Ever this woe remembering, I repress My bliss, if any bliss my feeling knows, Myself I harrow with new bitterness. LAUSO. When is lost bliss recovered? Do not woes, E'en though we seek them not, ever assail? When amidst mortal strife find we repose? THYRSIS. When in the mortal fray did life prevail? And when was Time, that swiftly flies away, By harness stout withstood, or coat of mail? DAMON. Our life is but a dream, an idle play, A vain enchantment that doth disappear, What time it seemed the firmest in its day. ELICIO. A day that darkeneth in mid career, And on its track close follows gloomy night, Veiled in shadows born of chilly fear. LAUSO. But thou, renownèd shepherd, in a bright And happy hour didst from this raging sea Pass to the wondrous regions of delight. THYRSIS. After that thou hadst heard and judged the plea Of the great shepherd of the Spanish plain In the Venetian[117] sheepfold righteously. DAMON. And after thou hadst bravely borne the pain, E'en the untimely stroke of Fortune fell, Which made Italia sad, and even Spain.