ECLOGUE I.

Selim; or the Shepherd's Moral. Scene, a Valley near Bagdat. Time, the Morning.

E Perfian maids, attend your poet's lays,
And hear how fhepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are bleft, whom fortune's hand fuftains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains
Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell!
'Tis virtue make the blifs, wheree'er we dwell.

Thus Selim fung, by facred truth infpir'd;
Nor praise, but such as truth bestow'd, defir'd:
Wife in himself, his meaning fongs convey'd
Informing morals to the fhepherd maid;
Or taught the swains that sureft bliss to find,
What groves nor ftreams bestow, a virtuous mind.
When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride
The radiant morn refum'd her orient pride,
When wanton gales along the vallies play,
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away:

and fung

By Tigris' wandering waves he fat,
This useful leffon for the fair and

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young.

Ye

Ye Perfian dames, he faid, to you belong,
Well may they please, the morals of my fong:
No fairer maids, I truft, than you are found,
Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around!
The morn that lights you, to your loves fupplies
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes :
For you thofe flowers her fragrant hands bestow,
And yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not thefe, all beauteous as they are,
The best kind bleffings heaven can grant the fair!
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray,
Boat but the worth Baffora's pearls display;

Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no luftrous light:
Such are the maids, and fuch the charms they boast,
By sense unaided, or to virtue loft.
Self-flattering fex! your hearts believe in vain
That love fhall blind, when once he fires the swain;

Or hope a lover by your faults to win,

As fpots on ermin beautify the skin :

Who seeks fecure to rule, be firft her care
Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair;
Each tender paffion man delights to find,
The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Bleft were the days, when wisdom held her reign,
And shepherds fought her on the filent plain;
With Truth fhe wedded in the secret grove,
Immortal Truth, and daughters blefs'd their love.
O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues come away,
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way!

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