Eclogues

Virgil

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

  1. drive to the drinking-pool, and, as you drive,
  2. beware the he-goat; with his horn he butts.“
MOERIS
  1. Ay, or to Varus that half-finished lay,
  2. “Varus, thy name, so still our Mantua live—
  3. Mantua to poor Cremona all too near—
  4. shall singing swans bear upward to the stars.”
LYCIDAS
  1. So may your swarms Cyrnean yew-trees shun,
  2. your kine with cytisus their udders swell,
  3. begin, if aught you have. The Muses made
  4. me too a singer; I too have sung; the swains
  5. call me a poet, but I believe them not:
  6. for naught of mine, or worthy Varius yet
  7. or Cinna deem I, but account myself
  8. a cackling goose among melodious swans.
MOERIS
  1. 'Twas in my thought to do so, Lycidas;
  2. even now was I revolving silently
  3. if this I could recall—no paltry song:
  4. “Come, Galatea, what pleasure is 't to play
  5. amid the waves? Here glows the Spring, here earth
  6. beside the streams pours forth a thousand flowers;