The
Shepherd
and
the
Calm
.
SOothing
his
Passions
with
a
warb'ling
Sound
,
A
Shepherd-Swain
lay
stretch'd
upon
the
Ground
;
Whilst
all
were
mov'd
,
who
their
Attention
lent
,
Or
with
the
Harmony
in
Chorus
went
,
To
something
less
than
Joy
,
yet
more
than
dull
Content
.
(
Between
which
two
Extreams
true
Pleasure
lies
,
O'er-run
by
Fools
,
unreach'd-at
by
the
Wise
)
But
yet
,
a
fatal
Prospect
to
the
Sea
Wou'd
often
draw
his
greedy
Sight
away
.
He
saw
the
Barques
unlading
on
the
Shore
,
And
guess'd
their
Wealth
,
then
scorn'd
his
little
Store
,
Then
wou'd
that
Little
lose
,
or
else
wou'd
make
it
more
To
Merchandize
converted
is
the
Fold
,
The
Bag
,
the
Bottle
,
and
the
Hurdles
sold
;
The
Dog
was
chang'd
away
,
the
pretty
Skell
Whom
he
had
fed
,
and
taught
,
and
lov'd
so
well
.
In
vain
the
Phillis
wept
,
which
heretofore
Receiv'd
his
Presents
,
and
his
Garlands
wore
.
False
and
upbraided
,
he
forsakes
the
Downs
,
Nor
courts
her
Smiles
,
nor
fears
the
Ocean's
Frown
For
smooth
it
lay
,
as
if
one
single
Wave
Made
all
the
Sea
,
nor
Winds
that
Sea
cou'd
heave
;
Which
blew
no
more
than
might
his
Sails
supply
Clear
was
the
Air
below
,
and
Phoebus
laugh'd
on
high
.
With
this
Advent'rer
ev'ry
thing
combines
,
And
Gold
to
Gold
his
happy
Voyage
joins
;
But
not
so
prosp'rous
was
the
next
Essay
,
For
rugged
Blasts
encounter'd
on
the
way
,
Scarce
cou'd
the
Men
escape
,
the
Deep
had
all
their
Prey
.
Our
broken
Merchant
in
the
Wreck
was
throw
Upon
those
Lands
,
which
once
had
been
his
own
Where
other
Flocks
now
pastur'd
on
the
Grass
,
And
other
Corydons
had
woo'd
his
Lass
.
A
Servant
,
for
small
Profits
,
there
he
turns
,
Yet
thrives
again
,
and
less
and
less
he
mourns
;
Re-purchases
in
time
th'abandon'd
Sheep
,
Which
sad
Experience
taught
him
now
to
keep
.
When
from
that
very
Bank
,
one
Halcyon
Day
,
On
which
he
lean'd
,
when
tempted
to
the
Sea
,
He
notes
a
Calm
;
the
Winds
and
Waves
were
still
,
And
promis'd
what
the
Winds
nor
Waves
fulfill
,
A
settl'd
Quiet
,
and
Conveyance
sure
,
To
him
that
Wealth
,
by
Traffick
,
wou'd
procure
.
But
the
rough
part
the
Shepherd
now
performs
,
Reviles
the
Cheat
,
and
at
the
Flatt'ry
storms
.
Ev'n
thus
(
quoth
he
)
you
seem'd
all
Rest
and
Ease
,
You
sleeping
Tempests
,
you
untroubl'd
Seas
,
That
ne'er
to
be
forgot
,
that
luckless
Hour
,
In
which
I
put
my
Fortunes
in
your
Pow'r
;
Quitting
my
slender
,
but
secure
Estate
,
My
undisturb'd
Repose
,
my
sweet
Retreat
,
For
Treasures
which
you
ravish'd
in
a
Day
,
But
swept
my
Folly
,
with
my
Goods
,
away
.
Then
smile
no
more
,
nor
these
false
Shews
employ
,
Thou
momentary
Calm
,
thou
fleeting
Joy
;
No
more
on
me
shall
these
fair
Signs
prevail
,
Some
other
Novice
may
be
won
to
Sail
,
Give
me
a
certain
Fate
in
the
obscurest
Vale
.