[
Nereides
:
]
Eclogue
II
.
Melvin
,
Laron
:
Two
Tritons
.
Mel.
Be
still
fond
Youth
,
and
cease
the
ruful
Noise
,
That
wide-mouth'd
Base
ill-suits
a
squeaking
Voice
:
The
Shepherds
ruder
Pipe
,
or
Sailors
Crowd
As
sweetly
echoes
,
and
almost
as
loud
.
Lar
.
Rail
on
,
poor
Melvin
,
and
with
Envy
swell
,
While
Pholoe
commends
the
tuneful
Shell
.
She
swears
beside
,
I
sing
like
am'rous
Swains
,
When
with
alternate
Loves
they
chear
the
smiling
Plains
.
Mel.
Begin
,
if
thou
art
skill'd
in
tuneful
Lay
,
Now
whispering
Breezes
gentle
Sounds
convey
.
The
noisy
Winds
in
bolted
Caves
are
prest
,
And
now
the
Halcyon
builds
her
wavering
Nest
.
Lar
.
I
have
observing
past
thro'
different
Climes
,
Can
fix
the
Seasons
,
and
adjust
the
Times
,
And
know
what
Stars
,
when
they
oppose
or
meet
Will
cause
or
stormy
Winds
,
or
falling
Sleet
.
Mel.
I've
seen
the
Deep
o'er-spread
with
stringy
Weeds
,
And
depthless
Waters
look
like
verdant
Meads
.
I
know
far
distant
Isles
in
Northern
Seas
,
Where
Birds
from
Insects
grow
,
and
hang
on
Trees
.
Lar
.
The
Moon
commands
the
Waves
.
Her
changing
Face
Disturbs
the
whole
,
and
stirs
the
watry
Mass
;
But
there
are
Seas
,
which
no
such
Influence
know
,
And
Rebel-Tides
,
that
without
Order
flow
.
Mel.
Tho'
now
'tis
calm
,
I
know
those
Magick
Spells
Can
raise
the
sleeping
Winds
from
rocky
Cells
:
The
lowring
Heav'n
looks
then
with
sadder
Hue
,
And
dismal
Storms
,
and
frightful
Wreeks
ensue
.
Lar
.
When
fatal
Rocks
have
split
the
broken
Ship
,
And
shrieking
Mortals
sink
into
the
Deep
,
If
Laron
hears
the
Cry
,
he
often
saves
,
And
buoys
the
floating
Wretch
amidst
the
angry
Waves
.
Lar
.
On
yonder
Rock
I
tun'd
the
passive
Air
And
Pholoe
thought
her
Sister
Syren
there
.
The
wanton
Dolphins
joyous
danc'd
around
,
Spouting
the
Waves
,
and
frisk'd
at
every
Sound
.
Mel.
In
that
same
Cliff
Cyano
sleeping
lay
,
With
lab'ring
haste
I
cut
the
yielding
Way
:
I
came
,
and
she
glad
of
the
kind
Surprize
Still
feigh'd
a
Sleep
,
and
clos'd
her
waking
Eyes
.
Lar
.
Ino
repents
,
and
would
at
length
be
kind
;
But
she's
as
fickle
as
the
Morning
Wind
:
To
me
her
Tears
and
Glances
are
no
more
Than
crackling
Bottles
on
the
frothy
Shore
.
Mel.
In
steepy
Rocks
the
Sea-fowl
make
their
Nest
:
Take
heed
,
ye
Birds
;
for
an
unwelcome
Guest
Will
steal
the
speckled
Eggs
,
and
give
the
Prey
To
a
kind
Nymph
,
that
sports
in
yonder
Bay
.
Lar
.
Peleus
,
earth-born
,
his
Thetis
has
enjoy'd
,
But
the
Wood-Nymph
,
who
late
at
ebbing
Tide
Measur'd
the
sandy
Plain
,
will
come
no
more
:
Ah
!
would
she
love
,
I
could
e'en
live
—
on
Shore
.
Mel.
The
Manato
his
Change
of
Pleasure
boasts
,
Now
sports
in
Seas
,
now
grazes
on
the
Coast
;
Nature
indulges
thus
th'amphibious
Kind
,
While
to
our
watry
Home
we
ever
are
confin'd
.
Lar
.
Unhappy
Offspring
of
the
briny
Main
,
Who
want
a
Voice
to
sing
,
or
—
to
complain
,
Tho'
mute
your
selves
,
yet
you
in
Shoals
will
throng
,
And
joy
to
hear
Laron's
delightful
Song
.
Mel.
Fish
,
Laron
,
are
not
mute
;
for
even
now
I
hear
the
distant
Lowings
of
the
Cow
,
While
softer
Breezes
breath
in
Whispers
round
,
And
ev'ry
Wave
breaks
with
a
pleasing
Sound
.
Lar
.
See
yonder
gawdy
Fish
,
that
flutt'ring
springs
,
And
cuts
the
liquid
Air
with
moistned
Wings
;
Strange
is
his
Life
,
but
stranger
Laron's
Fate
,
Who
burns
amidst
the
Waves
,
and
pines
for
Heat
.
Mel.
Those
gilded
Flyers
still
in
Danger
move
,
Persu'd
by
Fish
below
,
by
Birds
above
:
So
Melvin
flying
from
Dorinda's
Eyes
To
Galatea
falls
an
easy
Prize
.
Lar
.
Old
hoary
Proteus
late
I
sleeping
found
In
a
dark
mossy
Cave
,
and
clasp'd
him
round
;
In
vain
to
fright
with
different
Forms
he
strove
,
I
held
him
fast
,
and
he
foretold
my
Love
.
Mel.
I
for
Leucippe
stole
a
Fisher's
Net
;
She
kiss'd
,
and
vow'd
,
She
never
would
forget
:
But
they
shall
nothing
lose
by
what
I
stole
,
For
to
their
Boats
I
drive
a
numerous
Shoal
.
Lar
.
A
Trident
now
is
mine
,
which
Ceyx
own'd
,
Made
of
a
Sword-fish
,
and
emboss'd
around
:
When
I
bestow
it
on
the
am'rous
Maid
,
Laron
with
more
than
Kisses
will
be
paid
.
Mel.
Laron
is
courted
by
a
lovely
Fair
:
Ye
Gods
!
I
envy
not
the
happy
Pair
.
Poor
duskie-fac'd
Melanthe
!
one
wou'd
think
,
Like
Cuttle-fish
,
she
hid
her
self
in
Ink
.
Lar
.
Melanthe
still
is
kind
,
tho'
coarsly
made
:
The
Nymph
that's
kind
with
Kindness
must
be
paid
,
I
hate
the
skittish
Fair
,
that
flies
when
woo'd
,
Like
fearful
Tunnys
,
when
by
Sharks
persu'd
.
Mel.
Lobsters
by
Instinct
the
Pour-contrel
fly
;
(
For
if
they
see
him
,
they
by
seeing
die
)
But
we
those
Dangers
seek
,
we
ought
to
shun
,
And
court
our
Fate
,
and
strive
to
be
undone
.
Lar
.
The
Polypus
,
tho'
chang'd
,
must
not
escape
By
a
false
Dress
,
and
counterfeited
Shape
;
So
wanton
Nymphs
a-while
with
awkward
Pride
Deny
that
Passion
,
which
they
cannot
hide
.
Love
will
revenge
on
those
,
who
love
inspire
,
And
they
must
heat
themselves
,
who
others
set
on
fire
.
Mel.
When
ebbing
Tides
have
empty'd
half
the
Deep
,
And
pointed
Rocks
affright
the
distant
Ship
,
The
Nereids
sit
,
and
comb
their
flowing
Hair
,
Or
move
in
tuneful
Sounds
the
circling
Air
.
But
,
Triton
,
were
no
Lover
to
be
caught
,
The
Hair
would
be
uncomb'd
,
the
Song
forgot
.
Lar
.
Melvin
,
a
Sail
comes
brisk
before
the
Wind
.
Cease
then
the
Song
,
and
may
the
Nymph
be
kind
:
For
should
we
thus
appear
in
Human
Form
,
The
frighted
Sailor
will
forebode
a
Storm
.