Young Corydon, the unhappy shepherd swain, The fair Alexis loved, but loved in vain; And underneath the beechen shade, alone, Thus to the woods and mountains made his moan:-- Is this, unkind Alexis, my reward? And must I die unpitied, and unheard? Now the green lizard in the grove is laid, The sheep enjoy the coolness of the shade, And Thestylis wild thyme and garlic beats For harvest hinds, o'erspent with toil and heats; While in the scorching sun I trace in vain Thy flying footsteps o'er the burning plain. The creaking locusts with my voice conspire, They fried with heat, and I with fierce desire. How much more easy was it to sustain Proud Amaryllis, and her haughty reign, The scorns of young Menalcas, once my care, Though he was black, and thou art heavenly fair. Trust not too much to that enchanting face; Beauty's a charm, but soon the charm will pass. White lilies lie neglected on the plain, While dusky hyacinths for use remain. My passion is thy scorn; nor wilt thou know What wealth I have, what gifts I can bestow; What stores my dairies and my folds contain-- A thousand lambs, that wander on the plain; New milk, that all the winter never fails, And all the summer overflows the pails. Amphion sung not sweeter to his herd, When summoned stones the Theban turrets reared. Nor am I so deformed; for late I stood Upon the margin of the briny flood: The winds were still; and, if the glass be true, With Daphnis I may vie, though judged by you. O leave the noisy town! O come and see Our country cots, and live content with me! To wound the flying deer, and from their cotes With me to drive a-field the browzing goats; To pipe and sing, and, in our country strain, To copy, or perhaps contend with Pan. Pan taught to join with wax unequal reeds; Pan loves the shepherds, and their flocks he feeds. Nor scorn the pipe: Amyntas, to be taught, With all his kisses would my skill have bought. Of seven smooth joints a mellow pipe I have, Which with his dying breath Damoetas gave, And said,--"This, Corydon, I leave to thee; For only thou deserv'st it after me." His eyes Amyntas durst not upward lift; For much he grudged the praise, but more the gift. Besides, two kids, that in the valley strayed, I found by chance, and to my fold conveyed: They drain two bagging udders every day; And these shall be companions of thy play; Both fleck'd with white, the true Arcadian strain, Which Thestylis had often begged in vain: And she shall have them, if again she sues, Since you the giver and the gift refuse. Come to my longing arms, my lovely care! And take the presents which the nymphs prepare. White lilies in full canisters they bring, With all the glories of the purple spring.