An eastern wind, and dew upon the ground.
Thus while he stood, and, sighing, did survey
The fields, and cursed the ill omens of the day,
He saw Menalcas come with heavy pace; 10
Wet were his eyes, and cheerless was his face:
He wrung his hands, distracted with his care,
And sent his voice before him from afar.
Return, he cried, return, unhappy swain!
The spungy clouds are fill'd with gathering rain:
The promise of the day not only cross'd,
But even the spring, the spring itself is lost.
Amyntas--oh!--he could not speak the rest,
Nor needed, for presaging Damon guess'd.
Equal with heaven young Damon loved the boy, 20
The boast of nature, both his parents' joy,
His graceful form revolving in his mind;
So great a genius, and a soul so kind,
Gave sad assurance that his fears were true;
Too well the envy of the gods he knew:
For when their gifts too lavishly are placed,
Soon they repent, and will not make them last.
For sure it was too bountiful a dole,
The mother's features, and the father's soul.
Then thus he cried; the morn bespoke the news: 30
The morning did her cheerful light diffuse:
But see how suddenly she changed her face,
And brought on clouds and rain, the day's disgrace!
Just such, Amyntas, was thy promised race:
What charms adorn'd thy youth, where nature smiled,
And more than man was given us in a child!