Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- comparing small with great; but this as far
- above all other cities rears her head
- as cypress above pliant osier towers.
- And what so potent cause took you to Rome?
- Freedom, which, though belated, cast at length
- her eyes upon the sluggard, when my beard
- 'gan whiter fall beneath the barber's blade—
- cast eyes, I say, and, though long tarrying, came,
- now when, from Galatea's yoke released,
- I serve but Amaryllis: for I will own,
- while Galatea reigned over me, I had
- no hope of freedom, and no thought to save.
- Though many a victim from my folds went forth,
- or rich cheese pressed for the unthankful town,
- never with laden hands returned I home.
- I used to wonder, Amaryllis, why
- you cried to heaven so sadly, and for whom
- you left the apples hanging on the trees;
- 'twas Tityrus was away. Why, Tityrus,
- the very pines, the very water-springs,