Eclogues

Virgil

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

  • muses of Sicily, essay we now
  • a somewhat loftier task! Not all men love
  • coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,
  • woods worthy of a Consul let them be.
  • Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
  • has come and gone, and the majestic roll
  • of circling centuries begins anew:
  • justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
  • with a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
  • Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom
  • the iron shall cease, the golden race arise,
  • befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own
  • apollo reigns. And in thy consulate,
  • this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,
  • and the months enter on their mighty march.
  • Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain
  • of our old wickedness, once done away,
  • shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.
  • He shall receive the life of gods, and see
  • heroes with gods commingling, and himself