The Eclogues of Vergil (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1904 edition. Excerpt: ... we sing to; the woods make answer to all. Nymphs of the stream, what glades, what forest detained ye the day When with a love unrequited my Gallus wasted away? Never a height of Parnassus, of Pindus never a mount Stayed ye, nor yet Aganippe, the fair Aonian fount. Even the bay-trees wept him, the tamarisk gave him a tear; Pine-clad Maenalus mourned as beneath his precipice drear Lonely he lay; and the rocks of the frosty Lycaeus repined. All of his sheep stand round him;--they feel no shame of mankind; Nor thou, heavenliest singer, do thou feel shame of thy sheep; Flocks himself by the river the lovely Adonis did keep. Thither the shepherds came, and the swineherds tardy at last; Thither Menalcas, drenched from his winter storing of mast. "Whence this passion?" they ask him. Apollo came, the divine: "Gallus," he cries, "what madness The lovely Lycoris of thine Follows another love through a wild camp-life and the snows." Thither arrived Silvanus, his brows with greenery fine, Nodding his giant lilies and fennel flowers as he goes. Pan of Arcadia next--ourselves we beheld him--he came--Blood-red berries of elder, and all vermilion flame, --"Grieving forever " he saith. "Wild grief Love little esteems; Neither is fierce Love sated with tears, nor the meadow with streams, Nor with the cytisus blossom the bee, nor the goat with the leaf." Sadly he answers: "At least some day ye will sing of my grief Unto your hills, Arcadians;--alone, Arcadians, chief Masters of song. How gently, methinks, my bones would repose Should your pipes hereafter relate my love and its woes Would of a truth I among you were one your sheep were it mine Daily to tend, or be dresser in vintagetime of the vine ...