Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- So is thy song to me, poet divine,
- as slumber on the grass to weary limbs,
- or to slake thirst from some sweet-bubbling rill
- in summer's heat. Nor on the reeds alone,
- but with thy voice art thou, thrice happy boy,
- ranked with thy master, second but to him.
- Yet will I, too, in turn, as best I may,
- sing thee a song, and to the stars uplift
- thy Daphnis—Daphnis to the stars extol,
- for me too Daphnis loved.
- Than such a boon
- what dearer could I deem? the boy himself
- was worthy to be sung, and many a time
- hath Stimichon to me your singing praised.
- “In dazzling sheen with unaccustomed eyes
- daphnis stands rapt before Olympus' gate,
- and sees beneath his feet the clouds and stars.
- Wherefore the woods and fields, Pan, shepherd-folk,
- and Dryad-maidens, thrill with eager joy;
- nor wolf with treacherous wile assails the flock,