The Bucolics and Ecloges [English] | Page 8

deep
Shut Nereus off, and
mould the forms of things
Little by little; and how the earth amazed

Beheld the new sun shining, and the showers
Fall, as the clouds
soared higher, what time the woods
'Gan first to rise, and living
things to roam
Scattered among the hills that knew them not.
Then
sang he of the stones by Pyrrha cast,
Of Saturn's reign, and of
Prometheus' theft,
And the Caucasian birds, and told withal
Nigh to
what fountain by his comrades left
The mariners cried on Hylas till
the shore
"Then Re-echoed "Hylas, Hylas! soothed
Pasiphae with
the love of her white bullHappy
if cattle-kind had never been!-
O
ill-starred maid, what frenzy caught thy soul
The daughters too of
Proetus filled the fields
With their feigned lowings, yet no one of
them
Of such unhallowed union e'er was fain
As with a beast to
mate, though many a time
On her smooth forehead she had sought for
horns,
And for her neck had feared the galling plough.
O ill-starred
maid! thou roamest now the hills,
While on soft hyacinths he, his
snowy side
Reposing, under some dark ilex now
Chews the pale
herbage, or some heifer tracks
Amid the crowding herd. Now close,
ye Nymphs,
Ye Nymphs of Dicte, close the forest-glades,
If haply
there may chance upon mine eyes

The white bull's wandering
foot-prints: him belike
Following the herd, or by green pasture lured,

Some kine may guide to the Gortynian stalls.
Then sings he of the
maid so wonder-struck
With the apples of the Hesperids, and then

With moss-bound, bitter bark rings round the forms
Of Phaethon's
fair sisters, from the ground
Up-towering into poplars. Next he sings

Of Gallus wandering by Permessus' stream,
And by a sister of the

Muses led
To the Aonian mountains, and how all
The choir of
Phoebus rose to greet him; how
The shepherd Linus, singer of songs
divine,
Brow-bound with flowers and bitter parsley, spake:
"These
reeds the Muses give thee, take them thou,
Erst to the aged bard of
Ascra given,
Wherewith in singing he was wont to draw

Time-rooted ash-trees from the mountain heights.
With these the
birth of the Grynean grove
Be voiced by thee, that of no grove beside

Apollo more may boast him." Wherefore speak
Of Scylla, child of
Nisus, who, 'tis said,
Her fair white loins with barking monsters girt

Vexed the Dulichian ships, and, in the deep
Swift-eddying
whirlpool, with her sea-dogs tore
The trembling mariners? or how he
told
Of the changed limbs of Tereus- what a feast,
What gifts, to
him by Philomel were given;
How swift she sought the desert, with
what wings
Hovered in anguish o'er her ancient home?
All that, of
old, Eurotas, happy stream,
Heard, as Apollo mused upon the lyre,

And bade his laurels learn, Silenus sang;
Till from Olympus, loth at
his approach,
Vesper, advancing, bade the shepherds tell
Their tale
of sheep, and pen them in the fold.
ECLOGUE VII
MELIBOEUS CORYDON THYRSIS
Daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-tree
Had sat him down; Thyrsis and
Corydon
Had gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,
And
Corydon the she-goats swollen with milkBoth
in the flower of age,
Arcadians both,
Ready to sing, and in like strain reply.
Hither had
strayed, while from the frost I fend
My tender myrtles, the he-goat
himself,
Lord of the flock; when Daphnis I espy!
Soon as he saw
me, "Hither haste," he cried,
"O Meliboeus! goat and kids are safe;

And, if you have an idle hour to spare,
Rest here beneath the shade.
Hither the steers
Will through the meadows, of their own free will,

Untended come to drink. Here Mincius hath
With tender rushes
rimmed his verdant banks,
And from yon sacred oak with busy hum


The bees are swarming." What was I to do?
No Phyllis or Alcippe
left at home
Had I, to shelter my new-weaned lambs,
And no slight
matter was a singing-bout
'Twixt Corydon and Thyrsis. Howsoe'er,

I let my business wait upon their sport.
So they began to sing, voice
answering voice
In strains alternate- for alternate strains
The Muses
then were minded to recallFirst
Corydon, then Thyrsis in reply.
CORYDON
"Libethrian Nymphs, who are my heart's delight,

Grant me, as doth my Codrus, so to singNext
to Apollo he- or if to
this
We may not all attain, my tuneful pipe
Here on this sacred pine
shall silent hang."
THYRSIS
"Arcadian shepherds, wreathe with ivy-spray
Your
budding poet, so that Codrus burst
With envy: if he praise beyond my
due,
Then bind my brow with foxglove, lest his tongue
With evil
omen blight the coming bard."
CORYDON
"This bristling boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee,
With
branching antlers of a sprightly stag,
Young Micon offers: if his luck
but hold,
Full-length in polished marble, ankle-bound
With purple
buskin, shall thy statue stand."
THYRSIS
"A bowl of milk, Priapus, and these cakes,
Yearly, it is
enough for thee to claim;
Thou art the guardian of a poor man's plot.

Wrought for a while in marble, if the flock
At lambing time be
filled,stand there in gold."
CORYDON
"Daughter of Nereus, Galatea mine,
Sweeter than
Hybla-thyme, more white than swans,
Fairer than ivy pale, soon as
the steers
Shall from their pasture to the stalls repair,
If aught for
Corydon thou carest, come."
THYRSIS
"Now may I seem more bitter to your taste
Than herb
Sardinian, rougher than the broom,
More worthless than strewn
sea-weed, if to-day

Hath not a year out-lasted!