down among the green sedge, nigh to the river side, distressed and unmindful to depart, though late at night: may such love possess him, and I be indifferent to his cure. My incantation, bring, bring Daphnis from the city, home. He, perfidious, formerly left his clothes with me, dear pledges of himself; which I now commit to thee, O earth; under the very threshold, these pledges may give Daphnis to me. My incantations, bring, bring Daphnis from the city, home. Moeris himself gave me these herbs, and these deleterious drugs, gathered in Pontus: very many are produced in Pontus: with these I have often seen Moeris metamorphosed into a wolf, and hide himself in the woods, often raise up spirits from the inmost graves, and remove the sown cornfields elsewhere. My incantations, bring, bring Daphuis from the city, home. Amaryllis, bring the ashes out of doors, and throw them over your head into the running stream, nor look back: I will try Daphnis by these means; he cares nothing for the Gods, nor for my incantations. My incantations, bring, bring Daphnis from the city, home. See the embers themselves which I neglected to carry away, have, of their own accord, burst into a tremulous flame, and set fire to the altars. May this be a good omen! truly, what it indicates I know not; and Hylax barks in the door" way. Are we to believe in these signs? or, do those who are in love, feign dreams to themselves? My incantations, cease, now my Daphnis from the city comes. ECLOGUE IX. MOERIS, LYCIDAS, MOERIS. LYCIDAS. Moeris, whither thy steps? to the city, as the MOERIS. O Lycidas, that we should ever have lived to see a stranger in possession of our land, that might say, (which we never feared) these fields are mine: you old inhabitants, hence. Now overcome and sad, since fortune overturns all things, we send these kids to him, which I hope may not turn out well. LYCIDAS. Truly indeed, by his verses, I heard that your Menalcas retained all his lands, where the hills begin to slope, diminishing their ridgy eminences, by an easy descent down to the water; and where are still old beech trees, whose tops are shattered with the lapse of time. MOERIS. Thou heardest it; and there was such a report; but my Lycidas, our verses have just as much power among the arms of Mars, as Chaonian pigeons are said to have at the approach of an eagle. But if the certain bodings of the crow had not admonished me from the hollow holm-oak, to put an end to these new strifes at any rate; neither thy Moeris, nor Menalcas himself would here have been alive. LYCIDAS. Alas! could so great a crime enter into the mind of any one? Alas, Menalcas! thy consolation is almost taken away from us, together with thyself. Who should sing the Nymphs? who strew the earth with flowering herbs? or cover the fountains with a green shade? or sing those verses which I lately read clandestinely, to thee, when thou didst visit our delightful Amaryllis? Tityrus, feed my goats, till I return; I am going but a little way; and Tityrus, when they are fed, drive them to water, and among them as they are driven, take care how thou opposest the he-goat, he butts with his horns. MOERIS. Rather those which he sung to Varus unfinished—O Varus, the singing swans shall bear thy name aloft to the stars, if Mantua remains to us, Mantua alas, too near to wretched Cremona ! LYCIDAS. So may thy swarms of bees fly from the yews of Corsica; so thy cows fed with cytisus, distend their udders: begin, if thou hast any thing. Even the Muses have made me a poet; and I have verses of my own; the shepherds say that I am inspired; but I do not believe them: for hitherto it does not seem to me that I have composed any thing worthy of Varus, or Cinna, but as a goose I have cackled among tuneful swans. MOERIS. I am endeavouring, and, my Lycidas, I con it silently in my mind, if I can remember it, neither is it an ignoble song.Come hither, O Galatea, for what pleasure is there in the waves? here is a purple spring; here, about the rivers, the earth pours out various flowers; here the white poplar hangs over the cave, and the pliant and interwoven vines, make a hade. Come thou hither, and leave the raging waves to beat against the shore. LYCIDAS. What were those I heard thee singing alone, in a serene evening? I remember the measure, if I could recollect the words. MOERIS. Daphnis, why dost thou regard the ancient risings of the signs? behold the star of Dionean Cæsar has begun its course; the star, by which the fields shall abound with corn, and by which the grape shall have its colour on the sunny hills. Daphnis, graft your pears; and your grand children shall reap the benefit of the fruit. Time consumes all things, even the mind; I remember when a boy, often to have beguiled long days with singing: now I have forgotten very many verses; now even my voice fails me: the wolves have first looked upon Moeris. But Menalcas will repeat them to thee often enough. LYCIDAS. Thou dost but inflame me the more by thy excuses; now behold, for thee the level waters are still, and every breath of murmuring wind is hushed. Besides, we are now in the middle of our journey; for the sepulchre of Bianor begins to appear here, where the husbandmen are pruning the thick branches, here, Moeris, let us sing; here lay down thy kids ; for we shall arrive at the city in good time. But if thou art afraid lest the night may bring on rain, before, let us sing as we go along, the way will be less tedious. Let us sing as we go, I will ease thee of this bundle. MOERIS. My youth, no more; and let us do what we are about. We shall then sing better verses, when he himself returns. ECLOGUE X. GALLUS. O Arethusa, favour this my last labour. A few verses must be sung to my Gallus, but which Lycoris herself may read : who can refuse verses to Gallus? So may the briny Doris not mix her wave with thine, when thou glidest beneath the Sicilian sea. Begin; let us sing the anxious love of Gallus, whilst the flat-nosed kids crop the tender twigs. We do not sing to the deaf: the woods re-echo all. What woods, or glades retain you, O Naiad Nymphs, when Gallus perished by cruel love? for neither the tops of Parnassus, nor of Pindus, nor the Aonian Aganippe, laid any restraint on you. The laurels even, even the tamarisks mourned for him; even pine-bearing Mænalus, and the cold stones of Lycaeus wept for him, lying under the solitary rock. Even the sheep stand around him ; nor are they ashamed of us; neither mayst thou be ashamed of flocks and herds, O divine poet: even the beautiful Adonis fed his sheep on the banks of rivers. The shepherd came; even the slow herdsmen came; Menalcas came, wet from gathering winter mast. All ask, whence art thou infected with this passion? Apollo came: |