Eclogues

Virgil

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

  1. or taste its bitterness. Now, boys, shut off
  2. the sluices, for the fields have drunk their fill.
  • muses of Sicily, essay we now
  • a somewhat loftier task! Not all men love
  • coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,
  • woods worthy of a Consul let them be.
  • Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
  • has come and gone, and the majestic roll
  • of circling centuries begins anew: