Is there that Earth by Humane Foot ne're prest? That Aire which never yet by Humane Breast Respir'd, did Life supply? Oh, thither let me fly! Where from the World at such a distance set, All that's past, present, and to come I may forget: The Lovers Sighs, and the Afflicteds Tears, What e're may wound my Eyes or Ears. The grating Noise of Private Jars, The horrid sound of Publick Wars, Of babling Fame the Idle Stories, The short-liv'd Triumphs Noysy-Glories, The Curious Nets the subtile weave, The Word, the Look that may deceive. No Mundan Care shall more affect my Breast, My profound Peace shake or molest: But _Stupor_, like to Death, my Senses bind, That so I may anticipate that Rest, Which only in my Grave I hope to find. A Pastoral Dialogue. _Amintor._ Stay gentle Nymph, nor so solic'tous be? To fly his sight that still would gaze on thee. With other Swaines I see thee oft converse, Content to speak, and hear what they rehearse: But I unhappy, when I e're draw nigh, Thou streight do'st leave both Place, and Company. If this thy Flight, from fear of Harm doth flow, Ah, sure thou little of my Heart dost know. _Alinda._ What wonder, Swain, if the Pursu'd by Flight, Seeks to avoid the close Pursuers Sight? And if no Cause I have to fly from thee, Then thou hast none, why thou dost follow me. _Amin._ If to the Cause thou wilt propitious prove, Take it at once, fair Nymph, and know 'tis Love. _Alin._ To my just Pray'r, ye favouring Gods attend, } These Vows to Heaven with equal Zeal I send, } My flocks from Wolves, my Heart from Love, defend. } _Amin._ The Gods which did on thee such Charms bestow, Ne're meant thou shouldst to Love have prov'd a Foe, That so Divine a Power thou shouldst defy. Could there a Reason be, I'd ask thee, why? _Alin._ Why does _Licoris_, once so bright and gay, Pale as a Lilly pine her self away? Why does _Elvira_, ever sad, frequent The lonely shades? Why does yon Monument Which we upon our Left Hand do behold, Hapless _Amintas_ youthful Limbs enfold? Say Shepherd, say: But if thou wilt not tell, _Damon_, _Philisides_, and _Strephon_ well Can speak the Cause, whose Falshood each upbraids, And justly me from Cruel Love disswades. _Amin._ Hear me ye Gods. Me and my Flocks forsake, If e're like them my promis'd Faith I brake.