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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539272" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Elegy XVIII. He Repeats the Song of Colin, a Discerning Shepherd</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Near Avon's bank, on Arden's flowery plain,<br>A tuneful shepherd charm'd the listening wave,<br>And sunny Cotsol' fondly loved the strain;<br>Yet not a garland crowns the shepherd's grave!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! lost Ophelia! smoothly flow'd the day,<br>To feel his music with my flames agree,<br>To taste the beauties of his melting lay,<br>To taste, and fancy it was dear to thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When, for his tomb, with each revolving year,<br>I steal the musk-rose from the scented brake,<br>I strew my cowslips, and I pay my tear,<br>I'll add the myrtle for Ophelia's sake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shivering beneath a leafless thorn he lay,<br>When Death's chill rigour seized his flowing tongue;<br>The more I found his faltering notes decay,<br>The more prophetic truth sublimed the song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Adieu, my Flocks!' he said, 'my wonted care,<br>By sunny mountain, or by verdant shore;<br>May some more happy hand your fold prepare,<br>And may you need your Colin's crook no more!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And you, ye Shepherds! lead my gentle sheep,<br>To breezy hills, or leafy shelters lead;<br>But if the sky with showers incessant weep,<br>Avoid the putrid moisture of the mead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Where the wild thyme perfumes the purpled heath,<br>Long loitering, there your fleecy tribes extend-<br>But what avail the maxims I bequeath?<br>The fruitless gift of an officious friend!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ah! what avails the timorous lambs to guard,<br>Though nightly cares with daily labours join,<br>If foreign sloth obtain the rich reward,<br>If Gallia's craft the ponderous fleece purloin?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was it for this, by constant vigils worn,<br>I met the terrors of an early grave?<br>For this I led them from the pointed thorn?<br>For this I bathed them in the lucid wave?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ah! heedless Albion! too benignly prone<br>Thy blood to lavish, and thy wealth resign!<br>Shall every other virtue grace thy throne,<br>But quick-eyed Prudence never yet be thine?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the fair natives of this peerless hill<br>Thou gav'st the sheep that browse Iberian plains;<br>Their plaintive cries the faithless region fill,<br>Their fleece adorns an haughty foe's domains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ill-fated flocks! from cliff to cliff they stray;<br>Far from their dams, their native guardians, far!<br>Where the soft shepherd, all the livelong day,<br>Chaunts his proud mistress to his hoarse guitar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'But Albion's youth her native fleece despise;<br>Unmoved they hear the pining shepherd's moan;<br>In silky folds each nervous limb disguise,<br>Allured by every treasure but their own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oft have I hurried down the rocky steep,<br>Anxious to see the wintry tempest drive;<br>Preserve, said I, preserve your fleece, my Sheep!<br>Ere long will Phillis, will my love, arrive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ere long she came: ah! woe is me! she came,<br>Robed in the Gallic loom's extraneous twine;<br>For gifts like these they give their spotless fame,<br>Resign their bloom, their innocence resign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Will no bright maid, by worth, by titles known,<br>Give the rich growth of British hills to Fame?<br>And let her charms, and her example, own<br>That Virtue's dress and Beauty's are the same?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Will no famed chief support this generous maid?<br>Once more the patriot's arduous path resume?<br>And, comely from his native plains array'd,<br>Speak future glory to the British loom?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'What power unseen my ravish'd fancy fires?<br>I pierce the dreary shade of future days;<br>Sure 'tis the genius of the land inspires,<br>To breathe my latest breath in -- praise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O might my breath for -- praise suffice,<br>How gently should my dying limbs repose!<br>O might his future glory bless mine eyes,<br>My ravish'd eyes! how calmly would they close!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">' -- was born to spread the general joy;<br>By virtue rapt, by party uncontroll'd;<br>Britons for Britain shall the crook employ;<br>Britons for Britain's glory shear the fold.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Shenstone">William Shenstone</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=539272" data-title="Elegy XVIII. He Repeats the Song of Colin, a Discerning Shepherd de William Shenstone" data-description="Near Avon's bank, on Arden's flowery plain,
A tuneful shepherd charm'd the listening wave,
And sunny Cotsol' fondly loved the strain;
Yet not a garland crowns the shepherd's grave!

Oh! lost Ophelia! smoothly flow'd the day,
To feel his music with..."></div>
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