chapter  17
2 Pages

THOMAS FLATMAN, Pastoral on the death of Rochester 1680

As on his death-bed gasping Strephon1 lay, Strephon the wonder of the Plains, The noblest of th’ Arcadian Swains, Strephon the Bold, the Witty, and the Gay: With many a sigh, and many a tear he said, Remember me ye Shepherds, when I’m dead. Ye trifling Glories of this world, Adieu, And vain applauses of the Age: For when we quit this Earthly Stage, Believe me Shepherds, for I tell you true, Those pleasures which from virtuous deeds we have, Procure the sweetest slumbers in the Grave. Then since your fatal Hour must surely come, Surely your heads lie low as mine, Your bright Meridian Sun decline; Beseech the mighty Pan to guard you home: If to Elyzium you would happy fly, Live not like Strephon, but like Strephon die.