COм. No-by the silvan Pan!-Hark! hark!

my boy!

How my whole flock of goats snort wild for joy!
With leaps of transport how they frisk around!
I too could reach the' immortals at a bound!
Ah! foolish shepherd! all thy boast's a flam!
Go hang thee, Lacon! I have won the lamb!
But ye, my goats! my kids, in triumph run !
Come, my horn'd flock! To-morrow as the sun
O'er Sybaris shall ascend, with slanting beams,
I'll wash you in the fount's translucent streams.
Ho! ruttish goat: thy wanton gambols stay,
Ere to the Nymphs my votive rites I pay:
Still gamesome? Thou shalt smart then, I'll be

sworn,

Or, like Melanthius, may my limbs be torn!

IDYLLIUM VI.
The Herdsmen.

DAMÆTAS AND DAPHNIS.

ADDRESSED TO ARATUS.

LATE, herdsman Daphnis and Damætas fed
Their herds, Aratus, to one pasture led.
Ruddy Damætas' beard, while sprinkled thin
Scarce grew the down on Daphnis' tender chin!
Beside a brook they sung at summer noon;
The herdsman challenged, and thus piped his

tune

DAP. With apples Galatea pelts thy flocks, And thee, rude Polypheme, gay tittering, mocks! Sweet as thou pipest,she calls thee goatherd-churl; And yet thou dost not see the skittish girl,

Still piping on, more senseless than a log—
There there the little wanton pelts thy dog!
He, on the lucid wave his form surveys;

And, on the beach, his dancing shadow bays!
Call-call him, lest he rush upon the fair;
Lest her emerging limbs the rover tear!
Yet, lo! the frolic maiden sports at ease,
Light as the down that floats upon the breeze,
When summer dries the thistle's silver hair,
Its softness melting into azure air!—

Her lover, led by strange caprice, she flies;
And views her scorner with complacent eyes !
"The King's in check!" Sure, Cyclops, oft we
prove,

That faults are beauties, when survey'd by love.' Thus Daphnis sung: Damætas thus began—

DAM. 'I saw her pelt my flock, I swear by Pan! By this one eye! this precious eye, I saw— Heaven guard it till my life's last breath I draw! Still may I keep it in the Prophet's spiteAnd on his house the dire prediction light! But, as in careless mood the girl I vexAnd hint-I love some other of the sex!

She hears she pines and jealous, from the

waves

Springs forth; looks round, in fury, on my caves;
And, wildly roving, every sheepcote marks,
Whilst at her heels my dog obedient barks.
For when I loved, he fawn'd and gently whined,
And softly on her knees his head reclined.
Thus while dissembled love its cunning tries,
She'll send me, sure, some tidings of her sighs:
And yet, unless an oath the seajilt take
To press with me the bed herself shall make,

Far from her caverns, on this first of isles;
I'll bar my doors, nor heed her wanton wiles.
Nor is my person so deform'd and rude-
On the smooth ocean, late, my face I view'd-
Fair seem'd my single eye, and fair my beard:
Whiter than Parian stone my teeth appear'd.
Lest fascination my repose disturb,

Thrice on my breast I
spat-its power
to curb;-
I learn'd this virtue from a sorceress' tongue—
The hag who to Hippocoon's reapers sung.'

Ceasing, he kiss'd the boy-and, for a flute, Straight gave a pipe-his lovely lip to suit! Young Daphnis piped his flute Damætas play'd

Both match'd alike, the' unyielding strain essay'd; Whilst o'er the grass, their heifers danced for joy, Charm'd by Damætas and the herdsman boy.

IDYLLIUM VII.

The Harvest Feast; or, The Wernal Woyage. "TWAS at the time when reigns the rural joke, That Eucritus and I, from city smoke, (Join'd by our friend Amyntas) paced our way To the fresh fields that green round Halys lay. There Lycops' sons their harvest offerings, paid, And the rich honours of the feast display'd, Great Lycops' generous sons-if any good Flow down, transmitted with illustrious blood! From Clytia's and from Chalcon's line they came, E'en Chalcon shining in the rolls of fame; From whose strong knee impress'd upon the rock, In sudden springs the Burine fountain broke!

Elms, rising round, in various verdure glow'd!
And the dim poplars' quivering foliage flow'd!
Scarce half the journey measured (ere our eyes
Could see the tomb of Brasylas arise),
Glad we o'ertook young Lycidas of Crete,
Whose Muse could warble many a ditty sweet!
His rustic trade might easily be seen,

For all could read the goatherd in his mien.
A goat's white skin, that smelt as newly flay'd,
His shoulders loosely with its shag array'd:
His wide-wove girdle braced around his breast
A cloak, whose tatter'd shreds its age confess'd!
His right-hand held a rough wild olive crook,
And, as we join'd, he cast a leering look

From his arch hazle eye-while laughter hung
Upon his lips, and pleasure moved his tongue:
'Where-where, my friend Simichidas, so fast-
Ere now the heats of sultry noon are pass'd?
While sleeping in each hedge the lizard lies,
And not a crested lark swims o'er the skies?
Hah! thou art trudging for some dainty bit;
Or tread'st, be sure, the winepress for a cit!
Struck by thy hurrying clogs, the pebbles leap!
And, I'll be sworn, they ring at every step!'

• Well met, dear Lycidas, (I straight replied)
No shepherd swain, or reaper, e'er outvied
The music of thy pipe, as stories tell;-
I'm glad on't-Yet, I hope, I pipe as well!
Invited by our liberal friends, we go

Where the rich firstfruits of the harvest flow
To bless the fair-veil'd goddess, who with stores
Of ripen'd corn high heap'd their groaning floors.
But let us carol the bucolic lay,

Since ours one common sun, one common way:

Alternate transport may our songs infuse—
The "
honey'd mouth”—all name me—of the
All praise, in rapture, my poetic worth! [Muse!
But I'm incredulous, I swear by earth!

I rival (conscious of my humbler strain)
Philetas or Sicelidas, in vain!

And though my melodies may sooth a friend,
A croaking frog with locusts, I contend!'

Thus I with art-But, smiling arch, the youth Exclaim'd, Thou art a sprig of Jove, in truth! And need'st not, sure, from just applauses shrinkThis crook be thine, to witness what I think. I scorn the builder, as of mean account, Whose lofty fabric would o'ertop the mount Of proud Oromedon! Thus idly vie The muse-cocks, who the Chian bird defy. But let's begin, since time is on the wing; And each, in turn, some sweet bucolic sing! I'll chant (your ear with pleasure may they fill) The strains I lately labour'd, on the hill.

"O may the ship that wafts my Daphne, glide To Mitylene, o'er a favouring tide! [spread, Though southern winds their watery pinions And stern Orion broods o'er Ocean's bed. So may her smile a lenient medicine prove, To cool the fever of consuming love!

may

And the bleak south-east no longer rave,
But gentle halcyons smooth the rippling wave!
Sweet halcyons, loved by all the Nereid train
Above each bird that skims, for food, the main.
O may my fair one reach the quiet bay;
And every blessing speed her destined way!
Then with white violets shall my brows be
crown'd-

With anise-wreaths, or rosy garlands bound!