Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- So Proteus ending plunged into the deep,
- And, where he plunged, beneath the eddying whirl
- Churned into foam the water, and was gone;
- But not Cyrene, who unquestioned thus
- Bespake the trembling listener: “Nay, my son,
- From that sad bosom thou mayst banish care:
- Hence came that plague of sickness, hence the nymphs,
- With whom in the tall woods the dance she wove,
- Wrought on thy bees, alas! this deadly bane.
- Bend thou before the Dell-nymphs, gracious powers:
- Bring gifts, and sue for pardon: they will grant
- Peace to thine asking, and an end of wrath.
- But how to approach them will I first unfold—
- Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk,
- That browse to-day the green Lycaean heights,
- Pick from thy herds, as many kine to match,
- Whose necks the yoke pressed never: then for these
- Build up four altars by the lofty fanes,
- And from their throats let gush the victims' blood,
- And in the greenwood leave their bodies lone.
- Then, when the ninth dawn hath displayed its beams,
- To Orpheus shalt thou send his funeral dues,
- Poppies of Lethe, and let slay a sheep
- Coal-black, then seek the grove again, and soon
- For pardon found adore Eurydice
- With a slain calf for victim.”