Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- I have a father and a step-dame harsh,
- and twice a day both reckon up the flock,
- and one withal the kids. But I will stake,
- seeing you are so mad, what you yourself
- will own more priceless far—two beechen cups
- by the divine art of Alcimedon
- wrought and embossed, whereon a limber vine,
- wreathed round them by the graver's facile tool,
- twines over clustering ivy-berries pale.
- Two figures, one Conon, in the midst he set,
- and one—how call you him, who with his wand
- marked out for all men the whole round of heaven,
- that they who reap, or stoop behind the plough,
- might know their several seasons? Nor as yet
- have I set lip to them, but lay them by.
- For me too wrought the same Alcimedon
- a pair of cups, and round the handles wreathed
- pliant acanthus, Orpheus in the midst,
- the forests following in his wake; nor yet
- have I set lip to them, but lay them by.