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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530193" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Flies. An Eclogue.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When in the River Cows for Coolness stand,<br>And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty Land,<br>A Youth whom Æsop taught that ev'ry Tree<br>Each Bird and Insect spoke as well as he:<br>Walk'd calmly musing in a shaded Way<br>Where flow'ring Hawthorn broke the sunny Ray,<br>And thus instructs his Moral Pen to draw<br>A Scene that obvious in the Field he saw.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Near a low Ditch, where shallow Waters meet,<br>Which never learnt to glide with liquid Feet,<br>Whose Naiads never prattle as they play,<br>But screen'd with Hedges slumber out the Day,<br>There stands a slender Fern's aspiring Shade,<br>Whose answ'ring Branches regularly layd<br>Put forth their answ'ring Boughs, and proudly rise<br>Three Stories upward, in the nether Skies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Shelter here, to shun the Noon-day Heat,<br>An airy Nation of the Flies retreat;<br>Some in soft Air their silken Pinions ply,<br>And some from Bough to Bough delighted fly,<br>Some rise, and circling light to perch again;<br>A pleasing Murmur hums along the Plain.<br>So, when a Stage invites to pageant Shows,<br>(If great and small are like) appear the Beaus,<br>In Boxes some with spruce Pretension sit,<br>Some change from Seat to Seat within the Pit,<br>Some roam the Scenes, or turning cease to roam;<br>Preluding Musick fills the lofty Dome.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When thus a Fly (if what a Fly can say<br>Deserves attention) rais'd the rural Lay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where late Amintor made a Nymph a Bride,<br>Joyful I flew by young Favonia's side, <br>Who, mindless of the Feasting, went to sip<br>The balmy Pleasure of the Shepherd's Lip.<br>I saw the Wanton, where I stoop'd to sup,<br>And half resolv'd to drown me in the Cup;<br>'Till brush'd by careless Hands, she soar'd above:<br>Cease, Beauty, cease to vex a tender Love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus ends the Youth, the buzzing Meadow rung,<br>And thus the Rival of his Musick sung.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Suns by thousands shone in Orbs of Dew,<br>I wafted soft with Zephyretta flew;<br>Saw the clean Pail, and sought the milky Chear,<br>While little Daphne seiz'd my roving Dear.<br>Wretch that I was! I might have warn'd the Dame,<br>Yet sat indulging as the Danger came,<br>But the kind Huntress left her free to soar:<br>Ah! guard, ye Lovers, guard a Mistress more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus from the Fern, whose high-projecting Arms,<br>The fleeting Nation bent with dusky Swarms,<br>The Swains their Love in easy Musick breathe,<br>When Tongues and Tumult stun the Field beneath.<br>Black Ants in Teams come darkning all the Road,<br>Some call to march, and some to lift the Load;<br>They strain, they labour with incessant Pains<br>Press'd by the cumbrous weight of single Grains.<br>The Flies struck silent gaze with Wonder down:<br>The busy Burghers reach their earthy Town;<br>Where lay the Burthens of a wint'ry Store,<br>And thence unwearied part in search of more.<br>Yet one grave Sage a Moment's space attends,<br>And the small City's loftiest Point ascends,<br>Wipes the salt Dew that trickles down his Face,<br>And thus harangues them with the gravest Grace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye foolish Nurslings of the Summer Air,<br>These gentle Tunes and whining Songs forbear;<br>Your Trees and whisp'ring Breeze, your Grove and Love,<br>Your Cupids Quiver, and his Mother's Dove:<br>Let Bards to Business bend their vig'rous Wing,<br>And sing but seldom, if they love to sing:<br>Else, when the Flourets of the Season fail, <br>And this your Ferny Shade forsakes the Vale,<br>Tho' one would save ye, not one Grain of Wheat<br>Shou'd pay such Songsters idling at my Gate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ceas'd: The Flies, incorrigibly vain,<br>Heard the May'r's Speech, and fell to sing again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530193" data-title="The Flies. An Eclogue. de Thomas Parnell" data-description="When in the River Cows for Coolness stand,
And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty Land,
A Youth whom Æsop taught that ev'ry Tree
Each Bird and Insect spoke as well as he:
Walk'd calmly musing in a shaded Way
Where flow'ring Hawthorn broke the sunny..."></div>
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