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         Cave, John, d. 1690.
      
       
         
           1685
        
      
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         A78409
         Wing C1586aA
         ESTC R171125
         45578232
         ocm 45578232
         172177
         
           
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             Daphnis. A pastoral elegy on the death of that hopeful young gentleman Mr. Francis Wollaston.
             Cave, John, d. 1690.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.).
           
             Printed by Leonard Lichfield, printer to the University, for the author.,
             Oxford, :
             1685.
          
           
             Signed: John Cave, A.B. Linc. Coll.
             Reproduction of original in the Bodleian Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Wollaston, Francis, d. 1685?
           Elegiac poetry, English.
           Broadsides -- England -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           DAPHNIS
           .
           A
           Pastoral
           ELEGY
           on
           the
           Death
           of
           that
           hopeful
           Young
           Gentleman
           M
           
           R.
           FRANCIS
           WOLLASTON
           .
        
         
           Humbly
           Dedicated
           to
           his
           sorrowful
           Parents
           .
        
         
           
             Audiet
             extinctus
             post
             se
             sua
             nomina
             Daphnis
             ,
             Audiet
             ,
             &
             priscos
             animo
             revocabit
             amores
             .
          
        
         
           
             I.
             
          
           
             BEneath
             a
             Cypress
             gloomy
             shade
             ,
          
           
             (
             By
             Nature
             for
             that
             purpose
             made
             )
          
           
             The
             Melancholly
             Damon
             lay
             ,
          
           
             And
             thus
             his
             Griefs
             invited
             him
             to
             say
             :
          
           
             O
             Cruel
             Fate
             !
             Hard
             Destiny
             !
          
           
             Must
             I
             alone
             ,
             unhappy
             I
             ,
          
           
             When
             all
             my
             dear
             lov'd
             Swains
             are
             gone
             ,
          
           
             Be
             doom'd
             to
             tarry
             here
             alone
             ?
          
           
             The
             noble
             Strephon
             went
             before
             ,
          
           
             But
             not
             content
             with
             that
             rich
             store
             ,
          
           
             Little
             Alexis
             was
             your
             prize
             ,
          
           
             And
             pretty
             Mycon
             Idol
             of
             my
             Eyes
             :
          
           
             These
             (
             unkind
             Fates
             )
             you
             took
             away
             ,
          
           
             And
             could
             not
             these
             your
             fury
             stay
             ?
          
           
             Ah
             no!
             you
             've
             took
             my
             Daphnis
             too
             ,
          
           
             Took
             the
             lov'd
             Swain
             for
             ever
             from
             my
             View
             .
          
        
         
           
             II.
             
          
           
             Him
             (
             ye
             hard
             Fates
             )
             I
             now
             bemoan
             ,
          
           
             The
             Great
             ,
             the
             God-like
             Daphnis
             dead
             and
             gone
             ;
          
           
             Daphnis
             ,
             the
             Glory
             of
             our
             Plain
             ,
          
           
             Courted
             by
             every
             Nymph
             ,
             and
             lov'd
             by
             every
             Swain
             :
          
           
             Beauty
             and
             Goodness
             both
             in
             him
             did
             joyn
             ,
          
           
             His
             every
             part
             was
             charming
             ,
             every
             part
             Divine
             .
          
           
             Oft'
             have
             I
             seen
             the
             lovely
             Boy
             ,
          
           
             Adorn'd
             like
             some
             Bright
             Deity
             ,
          
           
             Above
             his
             fellow
             Shepherds
             sit
             ,
          
           
             While
             all
             paid
             Homage
             at
             his
             Feet
             .
          
           
             The
             Brighter
             Nymphs
             would
             Garlands
             bring
             ,
          
           
             Crown
             him
             with
             them
             ,
             and
             call
             him
             King
             ;
          
           
             Then
             every
             Vale
             with
             Daphnis
             Praises
             rung
             ,
          
           
             Daphnis
             the
             Brave
             ,
             the
             Good
             ,
             the
             Lovely
             ,
             Gay
             and
             Young.
             
          
        
         
           
             III.
             
          
           
             But
             now
             (
             poor
             Swains
             )
             alass
             !
             he
             's
             gone
             ,
          
           
             Daphnis
             has
             left
             you
             all
             alone
             ,
          
           
             And
             to
             the
             distant
             Region's
             fled
             ,
          
           
             The
             Godlike
             Youth
             is
             dead
             .
          
           
             Him
             the
             relentless
             Fates
             will
             ne're
             restore
             ,
          
           
             And
             you
             will
             never
             see
             him
             more
             ,
          
           
             Till
             you
             are
             carried
             to
             those
             Fields
             ,
          
           
             Where
             Nature
             all
             Contentment
             yields
             .
          
           
             There
             's
             purer
             Springs
             ,
             and
             sweeter
             Flowers
             ,
          
           
             More
             pleasant
             Groves
             ,
             and
             more
             delightful
             Bowers
             :
          
           
             There
             those
             who
             have
             lived
             well
             ,
             enjoy
             ,
          
           
             An
             undisturb'd
             Felicity
             .
          
           
             Pure
             are
             their
             Pleasures
             ,
             and
             their
             Bliss
             entire
             ,
          
           
             Beyond
             what
             silly
             we
             ,
             can
             fancy
             or
             desire
             .
          
           
             Thither
             did
             your
             lov'd
             Daphnis
             early
             come
             ,
          
           
             His
             pure
             refined
             Soul
             long'd
             for
             it's
             Home
             ;
          
           
             Your
             dull
             Enjoyments
             he
             could
             ne're
             Esteem
             ,
          
           
             All
             was
             but
             noise
             ,
             and
             Vanity
             to
             him
             ;
          
           
             'T
             was
             this
             alone
             (
             ye
             poor
             Forsaken
             Swains
             ,
             )
          
           
             Made
             the
             lov'd
             Youth
             ,
             for
             ever
             leave
             your
             Plains
             .
          
        
         
           
             IV.
             
          
           
             And
             now
             ,
             methinks
             I
             see
             ,
          
           
             The
             Glorious
             Deitie
          
           
             Look
             down
             from
             his
             Bright
             Seat
             above
             ,
          
           
             (
             His
             Face
             all
             Sweetness
             and
             all
             Love
             )
          
           
             And
             Hark
             I
             hear
             him
             say
             ,
          
           
             
               Shepherds
               for
            
             Daphnis
             
               cease
               to
               mourn
            
             ,
          
           
             
               Your
               sighs
               and
               tears
               to
               Joyful
               Musick
               turn
               :
            
          
           
             
               For
               the
               Blest
               Swain
               does
               now
               possess
               ,
            
          
           
             
               (
               What
               Life
               could
               not
               afford
               him
               )
               Happiness
            
             ;
          
           
             
               Delights
               ,
               which
               all
               desire
               ,
               but
               few
               enjoy
               ,
            
          
           
             
               Vnless
               they
               live
               like
            
             Daphnis
             
               and
               like
            
             Daphnis
             dye
             .
          
        
         
           
             JOHN
             CAVE
             
               A.
               B.
            
             Line
             .
             Coll.
             
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
           OXFORD
           ,
           Printed
           by
           
             Leonard
             Lichfield
          
           ,
           Printer
           to
           the
           University
           ,
           for
           the
           Author
           .
           1685.
           
        
      
    
  

