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