Which harder? her heart or that knavish

boy's?

Knavish the boy, and hard was her heart too.
Begin, my flute, a song of Arcady.

"Now let the wolf first turn and fly the sheep:
Hard oaks bear golden apples: daffodil
Bloom on the alder: and from myrtle-stems
Ooze richest amber. Let owls vie with swans;
And be as Orpheus-Orpheus in the woods,
Arion with the dolphins-every swain,
(Begin, my flute, a song of Arcady)

And earth become mid ocean. Woods, farewell!
Down from some breezy mountain height to
the waves

I'll fling me. Take this last gift ere I die.
Unlearn, my flute, the songs of Arcady."

Thus Damon. How the other made reply Sing, sisters. Scarce may all do everything. A. "Fetch water: wreathe yon altar with soft

wool:

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And burn rich vervain and brave frankincense: That I may try my lord's clear sense to warp With dark rites. Naught is lacking save the

songs.

Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city

home.

"Songs can bring down the very moon from heaven.

Circe with songs transformed Ulysses' crew. Songs shall in sunder burst the cold grasssnake.

Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city

home.

"Three threads about thee, of three several

hues,

I twine; and thrice-(odd numbers please the

god)

Carry thy image round the altar-stones.

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Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city

home.

Weave, Amaryllis, in three knots three hues.

Just weave and say 'I'm weaving chains of love.' Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home.

"As this clay hardens, melts this wax, at one And the same flame: so Daphnis 'neath my love. Strew meal, and light with pitch the crackling bay. Daphnis burns me; for Daphnis burn these bays. Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home, 90

"Be his such longing as the heifer feels,

When, faint with seeking her lost mate through

copse

And deepest grove, beside some water-brook
In the green grass she sinks in her despair,
Nor cares to yield possession to the night.
Be his such longing: mine no wish to heal.
Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home.

"Pledges of love, these clothes the traitor once Bequeathed me. I commit them, Earth, to thee Here at my threshold. He is bound by these. Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home.

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These deadly plants great Moeris gave to me, In Pontus plucked: in Pontus thousands grow. By their aid have I seen him skulk in woods A wolf, unsepulchre the buried dead,

And charm to other fields the standing corn. Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home.

"Go, Amaryllis, ashes in thy hand:

Throw them-and look not backwards-o'er thy head Into a running stream. These next I'll try ΙΙΟ On Daphnis; who regards not gods nor songs. Bring, songs, bring Daphnis from the city home.

"See! While I hesitate, a quivering flame
Hath clutched the wood, self-issuing from the ash.
May this mean good! Something-for Hylas too
Barks at the gate-it must mean. Is it true?
Or are we lovers dupes of our own dreams?
Cease, songs, cease. Daphnis comes from the city

home !"

ECLOGUE IX.

LYCIDAS. MORIS.

L. MORIS, on foot? and on the road to town? M. Oh Lycidas-we live to tell, how one(Who dreamed of this?)-a stranger-holds our farm,

And says,

""Tis mine: its ancient lords, begone!"

Beaten, cast down-for Chance is lord of all

We send him-bootlessly mayhap-these kids. L. Yet all, I heard, from where we lose yon hills, With gradual bend down-sloping to the brook, And those old beeches, broken columns now, Had your Menalcas rescued by his songs. ΙΟ M. Thou heardst. Fame said so. But our songs avail,

Moris, no more 'mid warspears than, they say,
Dodona's doves may, when the eagle stoops.

A boding raven from a rifted oak

K