[
Nereides
:
]
Eclogue
IV
.
Muræna
.
Palæmon
.
Mur
.
From
this
high
Cliff
is
an
unusual
View
,
And
here
our
Eyes
uncommon
Scenes
persue
.
I
see
the
Verdure
of
yon
distant
Plains
,
Where
bleating
Flocks
are
fed
by
tuneful
Swains
.
But
ah
!
how
wretched
are
those
earth-born
Slaves
,
Compar'd
with
us
,
who
cut
thro'
shining
Waves
?
They
are
expos'd
to
Cold
,
expos'd
to
Heat
,
In
different
Seasons
mourn
a
different
Fate
;
Uneasy
still
the
wretched
Caitiff
moves
To
breezy
Mountains
,
or
to
shelt'ring
Groves
.
While
we
no
cloathing
need
,
no
Change
of
Rules
,
The
Sea
in
Winter
warms
,
in
Summer
cools
.
I've
seen
the
labouring
Plowman's
daily
Toil
For
a
new
Crop
to
fit
the
stubborn
Soil
,
While
Heav'n
supplies
our
Wants
without
our
Sweat
,
We
ne'er
are
hungry
,
but
we
have
to
eat
.
Why
should
we
thus
by
partial
Heaven
be
blest
;
With
neither
Grief
,
nor
Doubt
,
nor
Toil
opprest
;
While
those
on
Earth
of
Happiness
despair
,
In
Pain
,
and
Anguish
die
,
and
live
in
Care
?
Pal
.
I've
heard
(
for
thus
the
wise
Melampus
said
)
Two
different
Kinds
of
Men
by
Heav'n
were
made
,
The
one
to
swim
,
and
sport
in
briny
Seas
,
Th'other
to
range
on
Earth
,
or
sit
at
ease
,
Under
the
Covert
of
the
shadowing
Trees
.
To
each
a
Guardian
Spirit
was
assign'd
To
guide
their
Passions
,
and
inform
their
Mind
:
But
he
on
Earth
,
ingrate
!
would
wildly
rove
,
Despis'd
his
Maker
,
and
abus'd
his
Love
.
Enraged
at
this
the
Guardian
Dæmon
flew
,
And
bid
him
his
own
blinded
Will
persue
;
Thus
earthy
Men
deserted
by
their
Guide
Can't
rule
their
giddy
Thoughts
,
nor
Stem
the
coming
Tide
;
But
still
are
doom'd
Slaves
to
their
darling
Lust
,
Are
all
deceitful
,
cruel
,
and
unjust
;
Restless
Desires
their
wearied
Soul
distract
,
They
know
not
what
they
are
,
nor
,
—
why
they
act
.
While
we
content
with
what
the
Gods
approve
,
Do
nought
but
ever
sing
,
and
—
ever
love
.
Mur
.
But
see
—
The
Tide
swells
on
the
Shore
,
and
forward
creeps
,
And
with
new
Slime
besmears
the
sandy
Heaps
.
What
makes
this
constant
Flux
,
I've
often
thought
The
Cause
is
wond'rous
,
and
in
vain
I
sought
.
Pal
.
The
Cause
is
wond'rous
plain
;
the
wise
will
prove
The
Nature
of
a
Fluid
is
to
move
:
In
every
Liquid
there's
a
constant
Rowl
;
An
Eddy
,
tho'
unseen
,
disturbs
the
whole
.
The
gliding
Parts
with
secret
Motion
flow
;
Were
they
at
rest
,
they
would
to
Hardness
grow
.
As
Washings
left
in
Rocks
,
by
Winters
Frost
Are
fixt
to
solid
Ice
,
and
all
the
Motion's
lost
.
Mur
.
Happy
are
those
who
know
the
secret
Cause
Of
strange
Effects
,
and
Nature's
hidden
Laws
.
But
leave
the
Rocks
;
for
rising
Fogs
appear
,
And
cold
Land-breezes
chill
the
troubled
Air
.