daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-treehad sat him down; Thyrsis and Corydonhad gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,and Corydon the she-goats swollen with milk—both in the flower of age, Arcadians both,ready to sing, and in like strain reply.Hither had strayed, while from the frost I fendmy 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 steerswill through the meadows, of their own free will,untended come to drink. Here Mincius hathwith tender rushes rimmed his verdant banks,and from yon sacred oak with busy humthe bees are swarming.” What was I to do?No Phyllis or Alcippe left at homehad I, to shelter my new-weaned lambs,