And felt on her smooth brow for budding horns. Ah! hapless maid! Thou roam'st from hill to hill: He under some dark oak-his snowy side Cushioned on hyacinths-chews the pale-green

grass,

Or woos some favourite from the herd.

Nymphs,

60

"Close,

Dictæan Nymphs, oh close the forest-glades!
If a bull's random footprints by some chance
Should greet me! Lured, may be, by greener

grass,

Or in the herd's wake following, vagrant kine
May bring him straight into my father's fold!"
-Then sings he of that maid who paused to gaze
At the charmed apples :-and surrounds with moss,
Bitter tree-moss, the daughters of the Sun,

Till up they spring tall alders.-Then he sings 70
How Gallus, wandering to Parnassus' stream,

A sister led to the Aonian hills,

And, in a mortal's honour, straight uprose
The choir of Phoebus: How that priest of song,
The shepherd Linus,-all his hair with flowers
And bitter parsley shining,-spake to him.

"Take-lo! the Muses give it thee-this pipe,
Once that Ascræan's old: to this would he
Sing till the sturdy mountain-ash came down.
Sing thou on this, whence sprang Æolia's grove, 80
Till in no wood Apollo glory more."

So on and on he sang:-How Nisus, famed
In story, troubled the Dulichian ships;
And in the deep seas bid her sea-dogs rend
The trembling sailors. Tereus' tale he told,
How he was changed: what banquet Philomel,
What present, decked for him: and how she flew
To the far wilderness; and flying paused—
(Poor thing)-to flutter round her ancient home.

All songs which one day Phoebus sang to

charmed

Eurotas-and the laurels learnt them off

90

He sang. The thrilled vales fling them to the stars.

Till Hesper bade them house and count their flocks, And journeyed all unwelcome up the sky.

ECLOGUE VII.

MELIBEUS, CORYDON, THYRSIS.

M. DAPHNIS was seated 'neath a murmurous oak, When Corydon and Thyrsis (so it chanced) Had driv'n their two flocks-one of sheep, and

one

Of teeming goats-together: herdsmen both,
Both in life's spring, and able well to sing,
Or, challenged, to reply. To that same spot
I, guarding my young myrtles from the frost,
Find my goat strayed, the patriarch of the
herd:

And straight spy Daphnis. He, espying me
In turn, cries, "Melibous! hither, quick! 10
Thy goat, and kids, are safe. And if thou
hast

An hour to spare, sit down beneath the shade.
Hither unbid will troop across the leas

The kine to drink: green Mincius fringes here

His banks with delicate bullrush, and a noise

Of wild bees rises from the sacred oak,"

What could I do? Alcippe I had none, Nor Phyllis, to shut up my new-weaned lambs:

Then, there was war on foot-a mighty war-
Thyrsis and Corydon !-So in the end

20

I made my business wait upon their sport.-
So singing verse for verse-that well the Muse
Might mark it-they began their singing-match.
Thus Corydon, thus Thyrsis sang in turn.
(They sing)

C. "Ye Fountain Nymphs, my loves! Grant me

T.

to sing

Like Codrus:-next Apollo's rank his lines:Or here if all may scarce do everything— I'll hang my pipe up on these sacred pines." "Swains! a new minstrel deck with ivy now, Till Codrus burst with envy! Or, should

30

he Flatter o'ermuch, twine foxglove o'er my brow,

Lest his knave's-flattery spoil the bard to be."

C. "To Dian, from young Micon: this boar's head, And these broad antlers of a veteran buck.' Full-length in marble-ancle-bound with red Buskins-I'll rear her, should to-day bring luck."

T. "Ask but this bowl, Priapus, and this cake Each year: for poor the garden thou dost keep. Our small means made thee marble: whom we'll make

Of gold, should lambing multiply our

sheep."

40

C. "Maid of the seas! more sweet than Hybla's

T.

thyme,

Graceful as ivy, white as is the swan !

When home the fed flocks wend at evening's

prime,

Then come-if aught thou car'st for Cory

don."

"Hark! bitterer than wormwood may I be, Bristling as broom, as drifted sea-weed cheap, If this day seem not a long year to me! Home, home for very shame, my o'er-fed sheep!"