Eclogues

Virgil

Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.

  1. hope of the flock—an ill, I mind me well,
  2. which many a time, but for my blinded sense,
  3. the thunder-stricken oak foretold, oft too
  4. from hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry.
  5. But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell.
TITYRUS
  1. The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome,
  2. I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours,
  3. whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drive
  4. the younglings of the flock: so too I knew
  5. whelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams,
  6. comparing small with great; but this as far
  7. above all other cities rears her head
  8. as cypress above pliant osier towers.
MELIBOEUS
  1. And what so potent cause took you to Rome?
TITYRUS
  1. Freedom, which, though belated, cast at length
  2. her eyes upon the sluggard, when my beard
  3. 'gan whiter fall beneath the barber's blade—
  4. cast eyes, I say, and, though long tarrying, came,
  5. now when, from Galatea's yoke released,
  6. I serve but Amaryllis: for I will own,