Page:Eclogues of Virgil (1908).djvu/38

 While I, deceived by Nisa's treach'rous love,

Must still lament, and in my dying hour

To all the gods appeal, altho' no gain,

As yet, has from their witness, come to me.

O flute, with me sing songs of Arcady!

The pine-grown mount, Arcadian Mœnalus

Listens to shepherds' loves, echoes their lays

And Pan's, who first piped on the vocal reeds,

Nisa is given to Mopsus, what may we

Hope for, as lovers? Noble steeds may now

Be yoked with griffins fierce; in times to come

The timid does with dogs will learn to drink.

Mopsus, make torches for thy coming wife,

Scatter the nuts, oh bridegroom, for thy sake

The evening star is rising from the hill—

O flute, with me sing songs of Arcady!

O thou, who wedded to a worthy mate

Despising all the rest, dost scorn my pipe

And all my flock of she-goats, and dost hate

My shaggy beard and eyebrows, nor dost own

That the gods care, for hopes of mortal men.

O flute, with me sing songs of Arcady!

When, thou, a child, didst in our orchard stray

And with thy mother, gather'dst dewy fruit

I was your guide, and hardly had began

The twelfth year of my age, but could just bend

The slender boughs to earth, then saw I thee

Then was I lost, by fatal error borne!

O flute, with me sing songs of Arcady!