Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- But that cry,
- Even from her chamber in the river-deeps,
- His mother heard: around her spun the nymphs
- Milesian wool stained through with hyaline dye,
- Drymo, Xantho, Ligea, Phyllodoce,
- Their glossy locks o'er snowy shoulders shed,
- Cydippe and Lycorias yellow-haired,
- A maiden one, one newly learned even then
- To bear Lucina's birth-pang. Clio, too,
- And Beroe, sisters, ocean-children both,
- Both zoned with gold and girt with dappled fell,
- Ephyre and Opis, and from Asian meads
- Deiopea, and, bow at length laid by,
- Fleet-footed Arethusa. But in their midst
- Fair Clymene was telling o'er the tale
- Of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth
- Of Mars' sweet rapine, and from Chaos old
- Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods.
- Charmed by whose lay, the while their woolly tasks
- With spindles down they drew, yet once again
- Smote on his mother's ears the mournful plaint
- Of Aristaeus; on their glassy thrones
- Amazement held them all; but Arethuse
- Before the rest put forth her auburn head,
- Peering above the wave-top, and from far
- Exclaimed, “Cyrene, sister, not for naught
- Scared by a groan so deep, behold! 'tis he,
- Even Aristaeus, thy heart's fondest care,
- Here by the brink of the Peneian sire
- Stands woebegone and weeping, and by name
- Cries out upon thee for thy cruelty.”
- To whom, strange terror knocking at her heart,
- “Bring, bring him to our sight,” the mother cried;
- “His feet may tread the threshold even of Gods.”
- So saying, she bids the flood yawn wide and yield
- A pathway for his footsteps; but the wave
- Arched mountain-wise closed round him, and within
- Its mighty bosom welcomed, and let speed
- To the deep river-bed. And now, with eyes
- Of wonder gazing on his mother's hall
- And watery kingdom and cave-prisoned pools
- And echoing groves, he went, and, stunned by that
- Stupendous whirl of waters, separate saw
- All streams beneath the mighty earth that glide,
- Phasis and Lycus, and that fountain-head
- Whence first the deep Enipeus leaps to light,
- Whence father Tiber, and whence Anio's flood,
- And Hypanis that roars amid his rocks,
- And Mysian Caicus, and, bull-browed
- 'Twixt either gilded horn, Eridanus,
- Than whom none other through the laughing plains
- More furious pours into the purple sea.
- Soon as the chamber's hanging roof of stone
- Was gained, and now Cyrene from her son
- Had heard his idle weeping, in due course
- Clear water for his hands the sisters bring,
- With napkins of shorn pile, while others heap
- The board with dainties, and set on afresh
- The brimming goblets; with Panchaian fires
- Upleap the altars; then the mother spake,
- “Take beakers of Maconian wine,” she said,
- “Pour we to Ocean.” Ocean, sire of all,
- She worships, and the sister-nymphs who guard
- The hundred forests and the hundred streams;
- Thrice Vesta's fire with nectar clear she dashed,
- Thrice to the roof-top shot the flame and shone:
- Armed with which omen she essayed to speak: