Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I am
- care not to ask—how rich in flocks, or how
- in snow-white milk abounding: yet for me
- roam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs;
- summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim.
- I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang,
- what time he went to call his cattle home
- on Attic Aracynthus. Nor am I
- so ill to look on: lately on the beach
- I saw myself, when winds had stilled the sea,
- and, if that mirror lie not, would not fear
- daphnis to challenge, though yourself were judge.
- Ah! were you but content with me to dwell.
- Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home,
- shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand
- round up the straggling flock! There you with me
- in silvan strains will learn to rival Pan.
- Pan first with wax taught reed with reed to join;
- for sheep alike and shepherd Pan hath care.
- Nor with the reed's edge fear you to make rough