Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- shall from their pasture to the stalls repair,
- if aught for Corydon thou carest, come.”
- “Now may I seem more bitter to your taste
- than herb Sardinian, rougher than the broom,
- more worthless than strewn sea-weed, if to-day
- hath not a year out-lasted! Fie for shame!
- Go home, my cattle, from your grazing go!”
- “Ye mossy springs, and grass more soft than sleep,
- and arbute green with thin shade sheltering you,
- ward off the solstice from my flock, for now
- comes on the burning summer, now the buds
- upon the limber vine-shoot 'gin to swell.”
- “Here is a hearth, and resinous logs, here fire
- unstinted, and doors black with ceaseless smoke.
- Here heed we Boreas' icy breath as much
- as the wolf heeds the number of the flock,
- or furious rivers their restraining banks.”
- “The junipers and prickly chestnuts stand,
- and 'neath each tree lie strewn their several fruits,
- now the whole world is smiling, but if fair