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Updated: May 2, 2025
But now again no more the woodland maids, Nor pastoral songs delight Farewell, ye shades No toils of ours the cruel god can change, Tho' lost in frozen deserts we should range; Tho' we should drink where chilling Hebrus flows, Endure bleak winter blasts, and Thracian snows: Or on hot India's plains our flocks should feed, Where the parch'd elm declines his sickening head, Beneath fierce-glowing Cancer's fiery beams, Far from cool breezes and refreshing streams.
At once Love's Courage and his Slavery In Taurus is expressed, Though o'er the Plains the Conqueror be, The generous Beast Does to the Yoke submit his noble Breast; While Gemini smiling and twining of Arms, Shews Love's soft Indearments and Charms; And Cancer's slow Motion the degrees do express, Respectful Love arrives to Happiness.
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