Eclogues

Virgil

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

  1. oft with its life-blood shall his altar stain.
  2. His gift it is that, as your eyes may see,
  3. my kine may roam at large, and I myself
  4. play on my shepherd's pipe what songs I will.
MELIBOEUS
  1. I grudge you not the boon, but marvel more,
  2. such wide confusion fills the country-side.
  3. See, sick at heart I drive my she-goats on,
  4. and this one, O my Tityrus, scarce can lead:
  5. for 'mid the hazel-thicket here but now
  6. she dropped her new-yeaned twins on the bare flint,
  7. hope of the flock—an ill, I mind me well,
  8. which many a time, but for my blinded sense,
  9. the thunder-stricken oak foretold, oft too
  10. from hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry.
  11. But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell.
TITYRUS
  1. The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome,
  2. I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours,
  3. whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drive
  4. the younglings of the flock: so too I knew
  5. whelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams,