Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- 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
- alexis from these hill-slopes should away,
- even the rivers you would ; see run dry.”
- “The field is parched, the grass-blades thirst to death
- in the faint air; Liber hath grudged the hills
- his vine's o'er-shadowing: should my Phyllis come,
- green will be all the grove, and Jupiter
- descend in floods of fertilizing rain.”
- “The poplar doth Alcides hold most dear,
- the vine Iacchus, Phoebus his own bays,
- and Venus fair the myrtle: therewithal