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.