The Wood Nymph

Approach in silence. 'tis no vulgar tale

Which I, the Dryad of this hoary oak,

Pronounce to mortal ears. The second age

Now hasteneth to its period, since i rose

On this fair lawn. The groves of yonder vale

Are, all, my offspring: and each Nymph, who guards

The copses and the furrow'd fields beyond,

Obeys me. Many changes have i seen

In human things, and many awful deeds

Of justice, when the ruling hand of Jove

Against the tyrants of the land, against

The unhallow'd sons of luxury and guile,

Was arm'd for retribution. Thus at length

Expert in laws divine, i know the paths

Of wisdom, and erroneous folly's end

Have oft presag'd: and now well-pleas'd i wait

Each evening till a noble youth, who loves

My shade, awhile releas'd from public cares,

Yon peaceful gate shall enter, and sit down

Beneath my branches. Then his musing mind

I prompt, unseen; and place before his view

Sincerest forms of good; and move his heart

With the dread bounties of the sire supreme

Of gods and men, with freedom's generous deeds,

The lofty voice of glory and the faith

Of sacred friendship. Stranger, i have told

My function. If within thy bosom dwell

Aught which may challenge praise, thou wilt not leave

Unhonor'd my abode, nor shall i hear

A sparing benediction from thy tongue.