Who butts, whose hoofs already spurn the

sand.

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D. Who loves thee, Pollio, go where thou art gone, For him flow honey, thorns sprout cinnamon. Who loathes not Bavius, let him love thy

M.

notes,

Mævius:-and yoke the fox, and milk he-goats, D. Flowers and ground-strawberries while your prize ye make,

Cold in the grass-fly hence, lads-lurks the snake.

M. Sheep, banks are treacherous: draw not over

nigh:

See, now the lordly ram his fleece doth dry. D. Tityrus, yon she-goats from the river bring. I in due time will wash them at the spring. M. Call, lads, your sheep. Once more our hands, should heat

ΙΟΙ

O'ertake the milk, will press in vain the teat. D. How rich these vetches, yet how lean my ox. Love kills alike the herdsman and the flocks. M. My lambs-and here love's not in fault, you'll

own

Witched by some jealous eye, are skin and bone. D. Say in what land-and great Apollo be

To me-heaven's arch extends just cubits three. M. Say in what land with kings' names grav'n are grown

Flowers and be Phyllis yours and yours

P. Not mine such strife to settle. You have earned A cow, and you: and whoso else shall e'er Shrink from love's sweets or prove his bitter

ness.

Close, lads, the springs. The meads have drunk enough.

ECLOGUE IV.

MUSES of Sicily, a loftier song

Wake we! Some tire of shrubs and myrtles low. Are woods our theme? Then princely be the woods.

Come are those last days that the Sybil sang: The ages' mighty march begins anew.

Now comes the virgin, Saturn reigns again:
Now from high heaven descends a wondrous race.
Thou on the newborn babe-who first shall end
That age of iron, bid a golden dawn

Upon the broad world-chaste Lucina, smile:
Now thy Apollo reigns. And, Pollio, thou
Shalt be our Prince, when he that grander age
Opens, and onward roll the mighty moons:

ΙΟ

Thou, trampling out what prints our crimes have left,

Shalt free the nations from perpetual fear.
While he to bliss shall waken; with the Blest

See the Brave mingling, and be seen of them,

Ruling that world o'er which his father's arm shed

peace.―

On thee, child, everywhere shall earth, untilled, Show'r, her first baby-offerings, vagrant stems 20 Of ivy, foxglove, and gay briar, and bean; Unbid the goats shall come big-uddered home, Nor monstrous lions scare the herded kine. Thy cradle shall be full of pretty flowers: Die must the serpent, treacherous poison-plants Must die; and Syria's roses spring like weeds.

But, soon as thou canst read of hero-deeds Such as thy father wrought, and understand What is true worth: the champaign day by day Shall grow more yellow with the waving corn; 30 From the wild bramble purpling then shall hang The 'grape; and stubborn oaks drop honeydew. Yet traces of that guile of elder days

Shall linger; bidding men tempt seas in ships, Gird towns with walls, cleave furrows in the land. Then a new Tiphys shall arise, to man

New argosies with heroes: then shall be

New wars; and once more shall be bound for Troy,

A mightier Achilles.

After this,

When thou hast grown and strengthened into

man,

40

The pilot's self shall range the seas no more;
Nor, each land teeming with the wealth of all,
The floating pines exchange their merchandise.
Vines shall not need the pruning-hook, nor earth
The harrow: ploughmen shall unyoke their steers.
Nor then need wool be taught to counterfeit
This hue and that. At will the meadow ram
Shall change to saffron, or the gorgeous tints
Of Tyre, his fair fleece; and the grazing lamb
At will put crimson on.

So grand an age

Did those three Sisters bid their spindles spin;

50

Three, telling with one voice the changeless will

of Fate.

Oh draw-the time is all but present-near
To thy great glory, cherished child of heaven,
Jove's mighty progeny! And lo! the world,