Eclogues
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- first my Thalia stooped in sportive mood
- to Syracusan strains, nor blushed within
- the woods to house her. When I sought to tell
- of battles and of kings, the Cynthian god
- plucked at mine ear and warned me: “Tityrus,
- beseems a shepherd-wight to feed fat sheep,
- but sing a slender song.” Now, Varus, I—
- for lack there will not who would laud thy deeds,
- and treat of dolorous wars—will rather tune
- to the slim oaten reed my silvan lay.
- I sing but as vouchsafed me; yet even this
- if, if but one with ravished eyes should read,
- of thee, O Varus, shall our tamarisks
- and all the woodland ring; nor can there be
- a page more dear to Phoebus, than the page
- where, foremost writ, the name of Varus stands.
- Speed ye, Pierian Maids! Within a cave
- young Chromis and Mnasyllos chanced to see
- silenus sleeping, flushed, as was his wont,
- with wine of yesterday. Not far aloof,