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La. Nay gentle Shepherd, ill is loft that praise That is addreft to unattending Ears,

Not any boaft of skill, but extreme shift
How to regain my fever'd company,
Compell'd me to awake the courteous Echo
To give me answer from her moffie Couch.
Co. What chance, good Lady, hath bereft you thas?
La. Dim darkness, and this leavy Labyrinth.
Co. Could that divide you from neer-ufhering guides?
La. They left me weary on a graslie terf.
Co. By falfood, or discourtefie, or why?
La. To feek i'th' Vally fome cool friendly Spring
Co. And left your fair fide all unguarded, Lady?
La. They were but twain,and purpos'd quick return.
Co. Perhaps fore-ftalling night prevented them.
La. How eafie my misfortune is to hit!
Co. Imports their loss, beside the prefent need?
La. No less than if I fhould my Brothers lofe.
Co. Were they of manly prime, or youthful bloom?
La. As fmooth as Hebe's their unrazor'd lips.
Co. Two fuch I faw, what time the labour'd Oxe
In his loose traces from the furrow came,
And the swink't hedger at his Supper fate;
I faw them under a green mantling Vine
That crawls along the fide of yon small hill,
Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots,
Their port was more than human, as they ftood;
I took it for a faery vision

of fome gay creatures of the Element,
That in the colours of the Rainbow live,

And play i'th' plighted clouds. I was aw-strook,
And as I paft, I worshipt; if thofe you feek,
It were a journey like the path to Heav'n,
To help you find them. La. Gentle Villager
What readiest way would bring me to that place?
Co. Due weft it rifes from this fhrubby point.
La. To find out that, good Shepherd, I suppose
In fuch a fcant allowance of Star-light,
Would overtask the beft Land-Pilot's art,
Without the fure guefs of well-practis'd feet.
Co. I know each lane, and every alley green
Dingle, or bushy dell of this wild Wood,
And every bosky bourn from fide to fide,
My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood,
And if your ftray-attendance be yer lodg❜d,
Or fhroud within thefe limits, I shall know
Ere morrow wake, or the low-roofted Lark
From her thatch't pallat rowfe, if otherwise
I can conduct you, Lady, to a low

But loyal cottage, were you may be fafe
Till further quest'. La. Shepherd I take thy word,
And truft thy honeft offer'd courtesie,

Which oft is fooner found in lowly fheds
With fmoaky rafters, than in tap'stry Halls
And Courts of Princes, where it firft was nam'd,
And yet is most pretended: In a place

Lefs warranted than this, or lefs fecure

I cannot be, that I fhould fear to change it;
Eye me, bleft Providence, and fquare my trial
To my proportion'd ftrength, Shepherd lead on.----

The two Brothers.

Eld, Bro. Unmuffle ye faint Stars, and thou fair That wont'st to love the Travailers benizon, [Moon Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, And difinherit Chaos, that reigns here

In double night of darkness, and of shades;
Or if your influence be quite damm'd up
With black ufurping mifts, fome gentle taper
Though a Rush-Candle from the wicker hole
Of some clay habitation visit us

With thy long levell'd rule of ftreaming light,
And thou shalt be our Star of Arcady,
Or Tyrian Cynofure, 2 Bro. Or if our eyes
Be barr'd that happiness, might we but hear
The folded flocks pen'd in their watled cotes,
Or found of paftoral reed with oaten ftops,
Or whistle from the Lodge, or village Cock
Count the night watches to his feathery Dames,
'Twould be some solace yet, some little chearing
In this close dungeon of innumerous bows.

But O that hapless Virgin! our lost sister,
Where may the wander now, whither betake her
From the chill dew, amongst rude burs and thistles?
Perhaps fome cold bank is her Boulter now,
Or'gainst the rugged bark of fome broad Elm
Leans her unpillow'd head, fraught with fad fears,
What if in wild amazement, and affright,
Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp
Of Savage hunger, or of Savage heat?

Eld. Bro. Peace, Brother, be not over-exquisite To caft the fashion of uncertain evils;

For grant they be fo, while they reft unknown,
What need a man foreftall his date of grief,
And run to meet what he would moft avoid?
Or if they be but falfe alarms of Fear,
How bitter is fuch felf-delufion?

I do not think my Sifter fo to feek,
Or fo unprincipl'd in Virtue's book,

And the sweet peace that goodness boosoms evez,
As that the fingle want of light and noise
(Not being in danger, as I trust the is not)
Could ftir the conftant mood of her calm Thoughts,
And put them into mif becoming plight.

Virtue could fee to do what Virtue would

By her own radiant light, though Sun and Moon Were in the flat Sea funk. And Wifdoms felf Oft feeks to fweet retired Solitude,

Where with her beft nurse Contemplation

She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings,
That in the various bustle of resort

Were all to ruffl'd, and fometimes impair'd.
He that has light within his own clear breaft
May fit i'th' Center, and enjoy bright day,

Eut he that hides a dark foul, and foul thoughts,
Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun;
Himself is his own dungeon.

2 Bro. 'Tis moft true,

That mufing meditation most affects

The penfive fecrecy of defart Cell,

Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds,
And fits as fafe as in a Senat Houfe,

For who would rob a Hermit of his Weeds,
His few Books, or his Beads, or Maple Dish,
Or do his gray Hairs any violence ?

But Beauty, like the fair Hesperian Tree
Laden with blooming Gold, had need the guard
Of Dragon-watch with uninchanted eye,
To fave her bloffoms, and defend her fruit
From the rafh hand of bold Incontinence.
You may as well spread out the unfun'd heaps
Of Misers Treasure by an Outlaw's den,
And tell me it is fafe, as bid me hope
Danger will wink on Opportunity,
And let a fingle helpless Maiden pass
Uninjur❜d in this wild furrounding waste
Of night, or loneliness it recks me not,
I fear the dread events that dog them both,
Left fome ill-greeting touch attempt the perfon
Of out unowned Sifter.

Eld. Bro. I do not, Brother,

Inferr, as if I thought my Sifter's ftate
Secure without all doubt, or controverfie:
Yet where an equal poife of hope and fear
Does arbitrate th' Event, my Nature is
That I incline to hope, rather than fear,
And gladly banish fquint fufpicion.
My Sifter is not fo defenceless left
As you imagine, she has a hidden strength
Which you remember not,

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