CANTATA V. The SHEPHERD

Beneath an oak's indulgent shade A shepherd at his ease was lay'd; He pluck'd the bough, the wreath he wove Sacred to WILLIAM, and to love, And taught the vocal woods around His name and Delia's to resound.

Of peace restor'd the shepherd sung, And plenty smiling o'er the fields; Of peace restor'd the woodlands rung, And all the sweets that quiet yields; Of love he sung and Delia's charms, And all restor'd by WILLIAM's arms.

Driv'n from his native soil belov'd, By cost and care not unimprov'd, A northern swain himself betook To rest, in that sequester'd nook. One fav'rite lamb escap'd the spoil, The only meed of all his toil; Which now o'erspent he drove before, Now fondling in his bosom bore. He heard, and strait the cause requir'd, With wonder more than envy fir'd.

Say, swain, by what good pow'r Thou wing'st the fleeting hour, With strains that wonder move, And tell of ease and love; While I by war's alarms Am forc'd from safety's arms; From home and native air, And all their social care. Say, swain, &c.

Again, replied the swain, repair To northern fields and native air; Again thy kindly home review, And all its social cares renew. Within what cave, or forest deep, To grief indulgent or to sleep, Hast thou escap'd the gen'ral joy, Sweet gift of Britain's fav'rite boy?

'Twas WILLIAM's toil this leisure gave, By him I tune my oaten reed, By him yon golden harvests wave, By him these herds in safety feed: Him shall our grateful songs declare Ever to British shepherds dear.

Him shall our grateful songs declare Ever to British shepherds dear.