diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:10 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:10 -0700 |
| commit | 3dcedc06e1dd96109dfa7ba0e145d1507362be8d (patch) | |
| tree | dc4a1847c2903f475831dd328f7958c00baaf5a8 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11533-0.txt | 4598 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 11533-h/11533-h.htm | 9484 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533-8.txt | 5021 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 80684 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 87954 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533-h/11533-h.htm | 9927 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533.txt | 5021 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/11533.zip | bin | 0 -> 80565 bytes |
11 files changed, 34067 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11533-0.txt b/11533-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efce711 --- /dev/null +++ b/11533-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4598 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11533 *** + +THEOCRITUS + +_TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE_. + +BY + +C.S. CALVERLEY, + +_LATE FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE_. + +AUTHOR OF "FLY LEAVES," ETC. + +THIRD EDITION. + + + + +PREFACE. + +I had intended translating all or nearly all these Idylls into blank +verse, as the natural equivalent of Greek or of Latin hexameters; only +deviating into rhyme where occasion seemed to demand it. But I found +that other metres had their special advantages: the fourteen-syllable +line in particular has that, among others, of containing about the same +number of syllables as an ordinary line of Theocritus. And there is also +no doubt something gained by variety. + +Several recent writers on the subject have laid down that every +translation of Greek poetry, especially bucolic poetry, must be in rhyme +of some sort. But they have seldom stated, and it is hard to see, why. +There is no rhyme in the original, and _primâ facie_ should be none in +the translation. Professor Blackie has, it is true, pointed out the +"assonances, alliterations, and rhymes," which are found in more or less +abundance in Ionic Greek.[A] These may of course be purely accidental, +like the hexameters in Livy or the blank-verse lines in Mr. Dickens's +prose: but accidental or not (it may be said) they are there, and ought +to be recognised. May we not then recognise them by introducing similar +assonances, etc., here and there into the English version? or by +availing ourselves of what Professor Blackie again calls attention to, +the "compensating powers"[B] of English? I think with him that it was +hard to speak of our language as one which "transforms _boos megaloio +boeién_ into 'great ox's hide.'" Such phrases as 'The Lord is a man of +war,' 'The trumpet spake not to the armed throng,' are to my ear quite +as grand as Homer: and it would be equally fair to ask what we are to +make of a language which transforms Milton's line into [Greek: ê +shalpigx ohy proshephê ton hôplismhenon hochlon.][C] But be this as it +may, these phenomena are surely too rare and too arbitrary to be +adequately represented by any regularly recurring rhyme: and the +question remains, what is there in the unrhymed original to which rhyme +answers? + +To me its effect is to divide the verse into couplets, triplets, or (if +the word may include them all) _stanzas_ of some kind. Without rhyme we +have no apparent means of conveying the effect of stanzas. There are of +course devices such as repeating a line or part of a line at stated +intervals, as is done in 'Tears, idle tears' and elsewhere: but clearly +none of these would be available to a translator. Where therefore he has +to express stanzas, it is easy to see that rhyme may be admissible and +even necessary. Pope's couplet may (or may not) stand for elegiacs, and +the _In Memoriam_ stanza for some one of Horace's metres. Where the +heroes of Virgil's Eclogues sing alternately four lines each, Gray's +quatrain seems to suggest itself: and where a similar case occurs in +these Idylls (as for instance in the ninth) I thought it might be met by +taking whatever received English stanza was nearest the required length. +Pope's couplet again may possibly best convey the pomposity of some +Idylls and the point of others. And there may be divers considerations +of this kind. But, speaking generally, where the translator has not to +intimate stanzas--where he has on the contrary to intimate that there +are none--rhyme seems at first sight an intrusion and a _suggestio +falsi_. + +No doubt (as has been observed) what 'Pastorals' we have are mostly +written in what is called the heroic measure. But the reason is, I +suppose, not far to seek. Dryden and Pope wrote 'heroics,' not from any +sense of their fitness for bucolic poetry, but from a sense of their +universal fitness: and their followers copied them. But probably no +scholar would affirm that any poem, original or translated, by Pope or +Dryden or any of their school, really resembles in any degree the +bucolic poetry of the Greeks. Mr. Morris, whose poems appear to me to +resemble it more almost than anything I have ever seen, of course writes +what is technically Pope's metre, and equally of course is not of Pope's +school. Whether or no Pope and Dryden _intended_ to resemble the old +bucolic poets in style is, to say the least, immaterial. If they did +not, there is no reason whatever why any of us who do should adopt +their metre: if they did and failed, there is every reason why we should +select a different one. + +Professor Conington has adduced one cogent argument against blank verse: +that is, that hardly any of us can write it.[D] But if this is so--if +the 'blank verse' which we write is virtually prose in disguise--the +addition of rhyme would only make it rhymed prose, and we should be as +far as ever from "verse really deserving the name."[E] Unless (which I +can hardly imagine) the mere incident of 'terminal consonance' can +constitute that verse which would not be verse independently, this +argument is equally good against attempting verse of any kind: we should +still be writing disguised, and had better write undisguised, prose. +Prose translations are of course tenable, and are (I am told) advocated +by another very eminent critic. These considerations against them occur +to one: that, among the characteristics of his original which the +translator is bound to preserve, one is that he wrote metrically; and +that the prattle which passes muster, and sounds perhaps rather pretty +than otherwise, in metre, would in plain prose be insufferable. Very +likely some exceptional sort of prose may be meant, which would dispose +of all such difficulties: but this would be harder for an ordinary +writer to evolve out of his own brain, than to construct any species of +verse for which he has at least a model and a precedent. + +These remarks are made to shew that my metres were not selected, as it +might appear, at hap-hazard. Metre is not so unimportant as to justify +that. For the rest, I have used Briggs's edition[F] (_Poetæ Bucolici +Græci_), and have never, that I am aware of, taken refuge in any various +reading where I could make any sense at all of the text as given by him. +Sometimes I have been content to put down what I felt was a wrong +rendering rather than omit; but only in cases where the original was +plainly corrupt, and all suggested emendations seemed to me hopelessly +wide of the mark. What, for instance, may be the true meaning of +[Greek: bolbhost tist kochlhiast] in the fourteenth Idyll I have no +idea. It is not very important. And no doubt the sense of the last two +lines of the "_Death of Adonis_" is very unlikely to be what I have made +it. But no suggestion that I met with seemed to me satisfactory or even +plausible: and in this and a few similar cases I have put down what +suited the context. Occasionally also, as in the Idyll here printed +last--the one lately discovered by Bergk, which I elucidated by the +light of Fritzsche's conjectures--I have availed myself of an opinion +which Professor Conington somewhere expresses, to the effect that, where +two interpretations are tenable, it is lawful to accept for the purposes +of translation the one you might reject as a commentator. [Greek: +tetootaiost] has I dare say nothing whatever to do with 'quartan fever.' + +On one point, rather a minor one, I have ventured to dissent from +Professor Blackie and others: namely, in retaining the Greek, instead of +adopting the Roman, nomenclature. Professor Blackie says[G] that there +are some men by whom "it is esteemed a grave offence to call Jupiter +Jupiter," which begs the question: and that Jove "is much more musical" +than Zeus, which begs another. Granting (what might be questioned) that +_Zeus, Aphrodite_, and _Eros_ are as absolutely the same individuals +with _Jupiter, Venus_, and _Cupid_ as _Odysseus_ undoubtedly is with +_Ulysses_--still I cannot see why, in making a version of (say) +Theocritus, one should not use by way of preference those names by which +he invariably called them, and which are characteristic of him: why, in +turning a Greek author into English, we should begin by turning all the +proper names into Latin. Professor Blackie's authoritative statement[H] +that "there are whole idylls in Theocritus which would sound ridiculous +in any other language than that of Tam o' Shanter" I accept of course +unhesitatingly, and should like to see it acted upon by himself or any +competent person. But a translator is bound to interpret all as best he +may: and an attempt to write Tam o' Shanter's language by one who was +not Tam o' Shanter's countryman would, I fear, result in something more +ridiculous still. + +C.S.C. + +*** For Cometas, in Idyll V., read _Comatas_. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., pp. 413, 414.] + +[Footnote B: _Ibid_., page 377, etc.] + +[Footnote C: Professor Kingsley.] + +[Footnote D: Preface to CONINGTON'S _Æneid_, page ix.] + +[Footnote E: _Ibid_.] + +[Footnote F: Since writing the above lines I have had the advantage of +seeing Mr. Paley's _Theocritus_, which was not out when I made my +version.] + +[Footnote G: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Preface, pp. xii., xiii.] + +[Footnote H: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., page 384.] + + + + +CONTENTS. + + IDYLL I. + THE DEATH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL II. + THE SORCERESS + + IDYLL III. + THE SERENADE + + IDYLL IV. + THE HERDSMAN + + IDYLL V. + THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS + + IDYLL VI. + THE DRAWN BATTLE + + IDYLL VII. + HARVEST-HOME + + IDYLL VIII. + THE TRIUMPH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL IX. + PASTORALS + + IDYLL X. + THE TWO WORKMEN + + IDYLL XI. + THE GIANT'S WOOING + + IDYLL XII. + THE COMRADES + + IDYLL XIII. + HYLAS + + IDYLL XIV. + THE LOVE OF ÆSCHINES + + IDYLL XV. + THE FESTIVAL OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XVI. + THE VALUE OF SONG + + IDYLL XVII. + THE PRAISE OF PTOLEMY + + IDYLL XVIII. + THE BRIDAL OF HELEN + + IDYLL XIX. + LOVE STEALING HONEY + + IDYLL XX. + TOWN AND COUNTRY + + IDYLL XXI. + THE FISHERMEN + + IDYLL XXII. + THE SONS OF LEDA + + IDYLL XXIII. + LOVE AVENGED + + IDYLL XXIV. + THE INFANT HERACLES + + IDYLL XXV. + HERACLES THE LION SLAYER + + IDYLL XXVI. + THE BACCHANALS + + IDYLL XXVII. + A COUNTRYMAN'S WOOING + + IDYLL XXVIII. + THE DISTAFF + + IDYLL XXIX. + LOVES + + IDYLL XXX. + THE DEATH OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XXXI. + LOVES + + FRAGMENT FROM THE "BERENICE" + + EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS:-- + + I.--VI. + VII.--FOR A STATUE OF ÆSCULAPIUS + VIII.--ORTHO'S EPITAPH + IX.--EPITAPH OF CLEONICUS + X.--FOR A STATUE OF THE MUSES + XI.--EPITAPH OF EUSTHENES + XII.--FOR A TRIPOD ERECTED BY DAMOTELES TO BACCHUS + XIII.--FOR A STATUE OF ANACREON + XIV.--EPITAPH OF EURYMEDON + XV.--ANOTHER + XVI.--FOR A STATUE OF THE HEAVENLY APHRODITE + XVII.--To EPICHARMUS + XVIII.--EPITAPH OF CLEITA, NURSE OF MEDEIUS + XIX.--TO ARCHILOCHUS + XX.--UNDER A STATUE OF PEISANDER + XXI.--EPITAPH OF HIPPONAX + XXII.--ON HIS OWN BOOK + + + + +IDYLL I. + + +The Death of Daphnis. + +_THYRSIS. A GOATHERD._ + + THYRSIS. + Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes + Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet + Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone. + Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat. + Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid; + And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids. + + GOATHERD. + Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams + Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag. + If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe, + Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose + The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe. + + THYRSIS. + Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here + Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade, + And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats. + + GOATHERD. + I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe + At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour + Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he; + Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel. + But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes; + High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy: + Then rest we in the shadow of the elm + Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs. + There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat, + Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him + Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first, + To milk, ay thrice, a goat--she suckles twins, + Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;-- + Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured, + Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet + 0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs + About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays + Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts + Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears + A damsel ('tis a miracle of art) + In robe and snood: and suitors at her side + With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left, + Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart. + She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now + Her chance regards on that: they, all for love + Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost. + Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands + On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains + Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils + Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame + Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck + (In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell. + Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends + Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes; + A boy sits on the rude fence watching them. + Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes + One ranging steals the ripest; one assails + With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon + Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile + With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap, + And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip, + Little he cares, enamoured of his toy. + The cup is hung all round with lissom briar, + Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight. + It was a ferryman's of Calydon: + A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese. + Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still + It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou, + If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays. + I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own + In the dim land where all things are forgot. + + THYSIS [_sings_]. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I. + Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined? + In fair Penëus' or in Pindus' glens? + For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt, + Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him; + The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The kine and oxen stood around his feet, + The heifers and the calves wailed all for him. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + First from the mountain Hermes came, and said, + "Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?" + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came; + All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came + And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid + Foots it round every pool and every grove, + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_) + "O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee; + Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called. + With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids + Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they: + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_): + "With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh + Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee." + Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone + His bitter portion, till the fatal end. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came Aphroditè, smiles on her sweet face, + False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake: + "So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love! + But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Then "Ruthless Aphroditè," Daphnis said, + "Accursed Aphroditè, foe to man! + Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set? + Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say) + And Aphroditè--to Anchises fly: + There are oak-forests; here but galingale, + And bees that make a music round the hives. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks + And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain + The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.' + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear! + Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen + Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell, + And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine, + Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags + Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Mænalus, + Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now + Rhium and Helicè, and the mountain-cairn + (That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son! + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact + With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip: + For surely I am torn from life by Love. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "From thicket now and thorn let violets spring, + Now let white lilies drape the juniper, + And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong: + For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds, + And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_." + + So spake he, and he never spake again. + Fain Aphroditè would have raised his head; + But all his thread was spun. So down the stream + Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head + Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved. + Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk + The one, and pour the other to the Muse. + Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell! + I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be. + + GOATHERD. + Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb + Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus: + For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song. + Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells: + The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well. + Hither, Cissætha! Thou, go milk her! Kids, + Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram. + + + + +IDYLL II. + + +The Sorceress. + + Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms? + Fetch all; with fiery wool the caldron crown; + Let glamour win me back my false lord's heart! + Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me, + Nor made enquiry if I die or live, + Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my door. + Sure his swift fancy wanders otherwhere, + The slave of Aphroditè and of Love. + I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school + At dawn, that I may see him and denounce + His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms. + So shine out fair, O moon! To thee I sing + My soft low song: to thee and Hecatè + The dweller in the shades, at whose approach + E'en the dogs quake, as on she moves through blood + And darkness and the barrows of the slain. + All hail, dread Hecatè: companion me + Unto the end, and work me witcheries + Potent as Circè or Medea wrought, + Or Perimedè of the golden hair! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + First we ignite the grain. Nay, pile it on: + Where are thy wits flown, timorous Thestylis? + Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou? + Pile, and still say, 'This pile is of his bones.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Delphis racks me: I burn him in these bays. + As, flame-enkindled, they lift up their voice, + Blaze once, and not a trace is left behind: + So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + E'en as I melt, not uninspired, the wax, + May Mindian Delphis melt this hour with love: + And, swiftly as this brazen wheel whirls round, + May Aphroditè whirl him to my door. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Next burn the husks. Hell's adamantine floor + And aught that else stands firm can Artemis move. + Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town: + The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sound the gongs. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Hushed are the voices of the winds and seas; + But O not hushed the voice of my despair. + He burns my being up, who left me here + No wife, no maiden, in my misery. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, sweet mistress, thus: + "What face soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot + Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say) + Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love." + _Turn, magic, wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the weed + That drives the mountain-colts and swift mares wild. + Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise, + Race from his burnished brethren home to me. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + He lost this tassel from his robe; which I + Shred thus, and cast it on the raging flames. + Ah baleful Love! why, like the marsh-born leech, + Cling to my flesh, and drain my dark veins dry? + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + From a crushed eft tomorrow he shall drink + Death! But now, Thestylis, take these herbs and smear + That threshold o'er, whereto at heart I cling + Still, still--albeit he thinks scorn of me-- + And spit, and say, ''Tis Delphis' bones I smear.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + + [_Exit Thestylis_. + + Now, all alone, I'll weep a love whence sprung + When born? Who wrought my sorrow? Anaxo came, + Her basket in her hand, to Artemis' grove. + Bound for the festival, troops of forest beasts + Stood round, and in the midst a lioness. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Theucharidas' slave, my Thracian nurse now dead + Then my near neighbour, prayed me and implored + To see the pageant: I, the poor doomed thing, + Went with her, trailing a fine silken train, + And gathering round me Clearista's robe. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Now, the mid-highway reached by Lycon's farm, + Delphis and Eudamippus passed me by. + With beards as lustrous as the woodbine's gold + And breasts more sheeny than thyself, O Moon, + Fresh from the wrestler's glorious toil they came. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + I saw, I raved, smit (weakling) to my heart. + My beauty withered, and I cared no more + For all that pomp; and how I gained my home + I know not: some strange fever wasted me. + Ten nights and days I lay upon my bed. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + And wan became my flesh, as 't had been dyed, + And all my hair streamed off, and there was left + But bones and skin. Whose threshold crossed I not, + Or missed what grandam's hut who dealt in charms? + For no light thing was this, and time sped on. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + At last I spake the truth to that my maid: + "Seek, an thou canst, some cure for my sore pain. + Alas, I am all the Mindian's! But begone, + And watch by Timagetus' wrestling-school: + There doth he haunt, there soothly take his rest. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits'; + And bring him." So I spake: she went her way, + And brought the lustrous-limbed one to my roof. + And I, the instant I beheld him step + Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door, + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_,) + Became all cold like snow, and from my brow + Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none, + Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make + That babbles to its mother in its dreams; + But all my fair frame stiffened into wax. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down, + And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said: + "Thou hast gained on me, Simætha, (e'en as I + Gained once on young Philinus in the race,) + Bidding me hither ere I came unasked. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "For I had come, by Eros I had come, + This night, with comrades twain or may-be more, + The fruitage of the Wine-god in my robe, + And, wound about my brow with ribands red, + The silver leaves so dear to Heracles. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers + High is my name for goodliness and speed: + I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way. + But had the door been barred, and I thrust out, + With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love, + Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out, + A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames, + And badst me hither. It is Love that lights + A fire more fierce than his of Lipara; + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.) + "Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower, + The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I, + A willing listener, sat, my hand in his, + Among the cushions, and his cheek touched mine, + Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed + In soft low language. Need I prate to thee, + Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did? + Till yesterday he found no fault with me, + Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came + Philista's mother--hers who flutes to me-- + With her Melampo's; just when up the sky + Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn: + And divers tales she brought me, with the rest + How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom: + But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye + He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled, + To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers. + Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true: + For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll + Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask: + Now--'tis a fortnight since I saw his face. + Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere? + Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms. + But let him try me more, and by the Fates + He'll soon be knocking at the gates of hell. + Spells of such power are in this chest of mine, + Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine. + + Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds: + As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil. + Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell, + That wait upon the car of noiseless Night. + + + + +IDYLL III. + + +The Serenade. + + I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats, + Tityrus their guardian, browse along the fell. + O Tityrus, as I love thee, feed my goats: + And lead them to the spring, and, Tityrus, 'ware + The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram. + Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more + Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock + Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him? + Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped + Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon. + See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree + I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon. + Ah witness my heart-anguish! Oh were I + A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair, + Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths + Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now: + Fell god, he drank the lioness's milk, + In the wild woods his mother cradled him, + Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone. + O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart + All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine! + Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips, + For there is sweetness in an empty kiss. + Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown, + The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee, + Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers: + Oh I am desperate--what betides me, what?-- + Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins + And leap into yon waves, where on the watch + For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death, + That I have all but died will pleasure thee. + That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?') + The _Love-in-absence_, crushed, returned no sound, + But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist. + I learned it of the sieve-divining crone + Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday: + 'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her; + She makes of none account her worshipper.' + Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for thee: + Mermnon's lass covets them: dark she is of skin: + But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me. + She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye. + I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing. + She may look round: she is not adamant. + + [_Sings_] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed, + Took apples in his hand and on he sped. + Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this; + She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss. + + From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray + To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay + In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare; + Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare. + + Did not Adonis rouse to such excess + Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness, + (He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill) + That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still? + + Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth not: + And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot! + Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain + Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane. + + My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no more: + E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves + Rend me--may that be honey in thy mouth! + + + + +IDYLL IV. + + +The Herdsmen. + +_BATTUS. CORYDON._ + + BATTUS. + Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee say. + + CORYDON. + No, Ægon: and he gave them me to tend while he's away. + + BATTUS. + Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to see? + + CORYDON. + The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on me. + + BATTUS. + And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful lord? + + CORYDON. + Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward. + + BATTUS. + How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by him? + + CORYDON. + Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb. + + BATTUS. + I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more. + + CORYDON. + --So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes a score. + + BATTUS. + This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven next. + + CORYDON. + --And by these bellowings his kine proclaim how sore they're vexed. + + BATTUS. + Poor kine! they've found their master a sorry knave indeed. + + CORYDON. + They're poor enough, I grant you: they have not heart to feed. + + BATTUS. + Look at that heifer! sure there's naught, save bare bones, left of her. + Pray, does she browse on dewdrops, as doth the grasshopper? + + CORYDON. + Not she, by heaven! She pastures now by Æsarus' glades, + And handfuls fair I pluck her there of young and green grass-blades; + Now bounds about Latymnus, that gathering-place of shades. + + BATTUS. + That bull again, the red one, my word but he is lean! + I wish the Sybarite burghers aye may offer to the queen + Of heaven as pitiful a beast: those burghers are so mean! + + CORYDON. + Yet to the Salt Lake's edges I drive him, I can swear; + Up Physcus, up Neæthus' side--he lacks not victual there, + With dittany and endive and foxglove for his fare. + + BATTUS. + Well, well! I pity Ægon. His cattle, go they must + To rack and ruin, all because vain-glory was his lust. + The pipe that erst he fashioned is doubtless scored with rust? + + CORYDON. + Nay, by the Nymphs! That pipe he left to me, the self-same day + He made for Pisa: I am too a minstrel in my way: + Well the flute-part in '_Pyrrhus_' and in '_Glauca_' can I play. + I sing too '_Here's to Croton_' and '_Zacynthus O 'tis fair_,' + And '_Eastward to Lacinium_:'--the bruiser Milo there + His single self ate eighty loaves; there also did he pull + Down from its mountain-dwelling, by one hoof grasped, a bull, + And gave it Amaryllis: the maidens screamed with fright; + As for the owner of the bull he only laughed outright. + + BATTUS. + Sweet Amaryllis! thou alone, though dead, art unforgot. + Dearer than thou, whose light is quenched, my very goats are not. + Oh for the all-unkindly fate that's fallen to my lot! + + CORYDON. + Cheer up, brave lad! tomorrow may ease thee of thy pain: + Aye for the living are there hopes, past' hoping are the slain: + And now Zeus sends us sunshine, and now he sends us rain. + + BATTUS. + I'm better. Beat those young ones off! E'en now their teeth attack + That olive's shoots, the graceless brutes! Back, with your white face, + back! + + CORYDON. + Back to thy hill, Cymætha! Great Pan, how deaf thou art! + I shall be with thee presently, and in the end thou'lt smart. + I warn thee, keep thy distance. Look, up she creeps again! + Oh were my hare-crook in nay hand, I'd give it to her then! + + BATTUS. + For heaven's sake, Corydon, look here! Just now a bramble-spike + Ran, there, into my instep--and oh how deep they strike, + Those lancewood-shafts! A murrain light on that calf, I say! + I got it gaping after her. Canst thou discern it, pray? + + CORYDON. + Ay, ay; and here I have it, safe in my finger-nails. + + BATTUS. + Eh! at how slight a matter how tall a warrior quails! + + CORYDON. + Ne'er range the hill-crest, Battus, all sandal-less and bare: + Because the thistle and the thorn lift aye their plumed heads there. + + BATTUS. + --Say, Corydon, does that old man we wot of (tell me please!) + Still haunt the dark-browed little girl whom once he used to tease? + + CORYDON. + Ay my poor boy, that doth he: I saw them yesterday + Down by the byre; and, trust me, loving enough were they. + + BATTUS. + Well done, my veteran light-o'-love! In deeming thee mere man, + I wronged thy sire: some Satyr he, or an uncouth-limbed Pan. + + + + +IDYLL V. + + +The Battle of the Bards. + + +_COMETAS. LACON. MORSON_. + + + COMETAS. + Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away: + Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday. + + LACON. + Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see + Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from me? + + COMETAS. + Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and how? + Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee now? + + LACON. + 'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, say, + What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked away? + Why, thy lord's self had ne'er a skin whereon his limbs to lay. + + COMETAS. + The skin that Crocylus gave me, a dark one streaked with white, + The day he slew his she-goat. Why, thou wert ill with spite, + Then, my false friend; and thou would'st end by beggaring me quite. + + LACON. + Did Lacon, did Calæthis' son purloin a goatskin? No, + By Pan that haunts the sea-beach! Lad, if I served thee so, + Crazed may I drop from yon hill-top to Crathis' stream below! + + COMETAS. + Nor pipe of thine, good fellow--the Ladies of the Lake + So be still kind and good to me--did e'er Cometas take. + + LACON. + Be Daphnis' woes my portion, should that my credence win! + Still, if thou list to stake a kid--that surely were no sin-- + Come on, I'll sing it out with thee--until thou givest in. + + COMETAS. + '_The hog he braved Athene._' As for the kid, 'tis there: + You stake a lamb against him--that fat one--if you dare. + + LACON. + Fox! were that fair for either? At shearing who'd prefer + Horsehair to wool? or when the goat stood handy, suffer her + To nurse her firstling, and himself go milk a blatant cur? + + COMETAS. + The same who deemed his hornet's-buzz the true cicala's note, + And braved--like you--his better. And so forsooth you vote + My kid a trifle? Then come on, fellow! I stake the goat. + + LACON. + Why be so hot? Art thou on fire? First prythee take thy seat + 'Neath this wild woodland olive: thy tones will sound more sweet. + Here falls a cold rill drop by drop, and green grass-blades uprear + Their heads, and fallen leaves are thick, and locusts prattle here. + + COMETAS. + Hot I am not; but hurt I am, and sorely, when I think + That thou canst look me in the face and never bleach nor blink-- + Me, thine own boyhood's tutor! Go, train the she-wolf's brood: + Train dogs--that they may rend thee! This, this is gratitude! + + LACON. + When learned I from thy practice or thy preaching aught that's right, + Thou puppet, thou misshapen lump of ugliness and spite? + + COMETAS. + When? When I beat thee, wailing sore: yon goats looked on with glee, + And bleated; and were dealt with e'en as I had dealt with thee. + + LACON. + Well, hunchback, shallow be thy grave as was thy judgment then! + But hither, hither! Thou'lt not dip in herdsman's lore again. + + COMETAS. + Nay, here are oaks and galingale: the hum of housing bees + Makes the place pleasant, and the birds are piping in the trees. + And here are two cold streamlets; here deeper shadows fall + Than yon place owns, and look what cones drop from the pinetree tall. + + LACON. + Come hither, and tread on lambswool that is soft as any dream: + Still more unsavoury than thyself to me thy goatskins seem. + Here will I plant a bowl of milk, our ladies' grace to win; + And one, as huge, beside it, sweet olive-oil therein. + + COMETAS. + Come hither, and trample dainty fern and poppy-blossom: sleep + On goatskins that are softer than thy fleeces piled three deep. + Here will I plant eight milkpails, great Pan's regard to gain, + Bound them eight cups: full honeycombs shall every cup contain. + + LACON. + Well! there essay thy woodcraft: thence fight me, never budge + From thine own oak; e'en have thy way. But who shall be our judge? + Oh, if Lycopas with his kine should chance this way to trudge! + + COMETAS. + Nay, I want no Lycopas. But hail yon woodsman, do: + 'Tis Morson--see! his arms are full of bracken--there, by you. + + LACON. + We'll hail him. + + COMETAS. + Ay, you hail him. + + LACON. + Friend, 'twill not take thee long: + We're striving which is master, we twain, in woodland song: + And thou, my good friend Morson, ne'er look with favouring eyes + On me; nor yet to yonder lad be fain to judge the prize. + + COMETAS. + Nay, by the Nymphs, sweet Morson, ne'er for Cometas' sake + Stretch thou a point; nor e'er let him undue advantage take. + Sibyrtas owns yon wethers; a Thurian is he: + And here, my friend, Eumares' goats, of Sybaris, you may see. + + LACON. + And who asked thee, thou naughty knave, to whom belonged these flocks, + Sibyrtas, or (it might be) me? Eh, thou'rt a chatter-box! + + COMETAS. + The simple truth, most worshipful, is all that I allege: + I'm not for boasting. But thy wit hath all too keen an edge. + + LACON. + Come sing, if singing's in thee--and may our friend get back + To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth clack! + + COMETAS. [_Sings_] + Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the Nine + Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their shrine. + + LACON. [_Sings_] + Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear + A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near. + + COMETAS. + Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my own, + Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all alone?' + + LACON. + Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with cheese: + Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed leas. + + COMETAS. + Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he stray + By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming way. + + LACON. + Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my flocks: + How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining locks! + + COMETAS. + Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree, + The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for me. + + LACON. + Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and still + I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the hill. + + COMETAS. + A cushat I will presently procure and give to her + Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper. + + LACON. + Pooh! a soft fleece, to make a coat, I'll give the day I shear + My brindled ewe--(no hand but mine shall touch it)--to my dear. + + COMETAS. + Back, lambs, from that wild-olive: and be content to browse + Here on the shoulder of the hill, beneath the myrtle boughs. + + LACON. + Run, (will ye?) Ball and Dogstar, down from that oak tree, run: + And feed where Spot is feeding, and catch the morning sun. + + COMETAS. + I have a bowl of cypress-wood: I have besides a cup: + Praxiteles designed them: for _her_ they're treasured up. + + LACON. + I have a dog who throttles wolves: he loves the sheep, and they + Love him: I'll give him to my dear, to keep wild beasts at bay. + + COMETAS. + Ye locusts that o'erleap my fence, oh let my vines escape + Your clutches, I beseech you: the bloom is on the grape. + + LACON. + Ye crickets, mark how nettled our friend the goatherd is! + I ween, ye cost the reapers pangs as acute as his. + + COMETAS. + Those foxes with their bushy tails, I hate to see them crawl + Round Micon's homestead and purloin his grapes at evenfall. + + LACON. + _I_ hate to see the beetles that come warping on the wind. + And climb Philondas' trees, and leave never a fig behind. + + COMETAS. + Have you forgot that cudgelling I gave you? At each stroke + You grinned and twisted with a grace, and clung to yonder oak. + + LACON. + That I've forgot--but I have not, how once Eumares tied + You to that selfsame oak-trunk, and tanned your unclean hide. + + COMETAS. + There's some one ill--of heartburn. You note it, I presume, + Morson? Go quick, and fetch a squill from some old beldam's tomb. + + LACON. + I think I'm stinging somebody, as Morson too perceives-- + Go to the river and dig up a clump of sowbread-leaves. + + COMETAS. + May Himera flow, not water, but milk: and may'st thou blush, + Crathis, with wine; and fruitage grow upon every rush. + + LACON. + For me may Sybaris' fountain flow, pure honey: so that you, + My fair, may dip your pitcher each morn in honey-dew. + + COMETAS. + My goats are fed on clover and goat's-delight: they tread + On lentisk leaves; or lie them down, ripe strawberries o'er their head. + + LACON. + My sheep crop honeysuckle bloom, while all around them blows + In clusters rich the jasmine, as brave as any rose. + + COMETAS. + I scorn my maid; for when she took my cushat, she did not + Draw with both hands my face to hers and kiss me on the spot. + + LACON. + I love my love, and hugely: for, when I gave my flute, + I was rewarded with a kiss, a loving one to boot. + + COMETAS. + Lacon, the nightingale should scarce be challenged by the jay, + Nor swan by hoopoe: but, poor boy, thou aye wert for a fray. + + MORSON. + I bid the shepherd hold his peace. Cometas, unto you + I, Morson, do adjudge the lamb. You'll first make offering due + Unto the nymphs: then savoury meat you'll send to Morson too. + + COMETAS. + By Pan I will! Snort, all my herd of he-goats: I shall now + O'er Lacon, shepherd as he is, crow ye shall soon see how. + I've won, and I could leap sky-high! Ye also dance and skip, + My hornèd ewes: in Sybaris' fount to-morrow all shall dip. + Ho! you, sir, with the glossy coat and dangerous crest; you dare + Look at a ewe, till I have slain my lamb, and ill you'll fare. + What! is he at his tricks again? He is, and he will get + (Or my name's not Cometas) a proper pounding yet. + + + + +IDYLL VI. + + +The Drawn Battle. + +DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS. + + Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once + Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen. + One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard. + And by a brookside on a summer noon + The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led + The song, for Daphnis was the challenger. + + DAPHNIS. + "See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit, + And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme. + Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye + Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog: + Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks, + And, through the clear wave visible to her still, + Careers along the gently babbling beach. + Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen + From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs. + She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs + In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed, + Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win; + For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love." + + And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang. + + DAMOETAS. + "I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind, + By Pan, by this my one my precious eye + That bounds my vision now and evermore! + But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe, + His and his children's, that he promised me! + Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by, + Pretend to woo another:--and she hears + (Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy; + And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung, + Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock. + 'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her; + For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay + His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note + Mayhap, and message send on message soon: + But I will bar my door until she swear + To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed. + And I am less unlovely than men say. + I looked into the mere (the mere was calm), + And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed + My solitary eye, and, half-revealed, + My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl. + Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe: + That learned I of the hag Cottytaris--her + Who fluted lately with Hippocoön's mowers." + + Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly: + One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute. + Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe + The younglings bounded in the soft green grass: + And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both. + + + + +IDYLL VII. + + +Harvest-Home. + + Once on a time did Eucritus and I + (With us Amyntas) to the riverside + Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons + Were that day busy with the harvest-home, + Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung + (If aught thou holdest by the good old names) + By Clytia from great Chalcon--him who erst + Planted one stalwart knee against the rock, + And lo, beneath his foot Burinè's rill + Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm + Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed + By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now, + Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas: + When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near + A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas. + The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell + So much: for every inch a herdsman he. + Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide + Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired, + That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped + A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff + A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore. + Soon with a quiet smile he spoke--his eye + Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip: + "And whither ploddest thou thy weary way + Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas? + For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall, + The crested lark folds now his wandering wing. + Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board? + Or townward to the treading of the grape? + For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet + The pavement-stones ring out right merrily." + Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none + Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match + At piping: and my soul is glad thereat. + Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee. + Now look, this road holds holiday to-day: + For banded brethren solemnise a feast + To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her + For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand + Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors. + So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine: + Try we our woodcraft--each may learn from each. + I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song; + All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not, + Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet + (I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard + Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song. + They are as cicadas challenged by a frog." + + I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing light + He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed + A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand! + I hate your builders who would rear a house + High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle: + I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry + Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard. + But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas, + Our woodland music: and for my part I-- + List, comrade, if you like the simple air + I forged among the uplands yesterday. + + [_Sings_] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the main + To Mitylenè--though the southern blast + Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids, + Or low above the verge Orion stand-- + If from Love's furnace she will rescue me, + For Lycidas is parched with hot desire. + Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds, + Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off + Flutters the seaweed--halcyons, of all birds + Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear + By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile + On her to Mitylenè voyaging, + And in fair harbour may she ride at last. + I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill + Or rose or simple violet on my brow, + Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask + Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans, + And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel + And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled + My bed of rushes, where in royal ease + I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain + With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs. + I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both, + This from Acharnæ, from Lycopè that; + And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing + How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid; + And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks + (Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal) + Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away + Like snow on Athos, or on Hæmus high, + Or Rhodopè, or utmost Caucasus. + And he shall sing me how the big chest held + (All through the maniac malice of his lord) + A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees, + Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell, + Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse + Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song. + Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine! + Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees + Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year: + And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick + In my day! I had led thy pretty goats + About the hill-side, listening to thy voice: + While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine, + Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly." + + He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I. + "I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells, + Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs, + Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus. + But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first: + Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well. + + [_Sings_] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless I + Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring. + But my best friend Aratus inly pines + For one who loves him not. Aristis saw-- + (A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay + Shrinèd Apollo's self would scarce disdain)-- + How love had scorched Aratus to the bone. + O Pan, who hauntest Homolè's fair champaign, + Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be, + Unbid to his sweet arms--so, gracious Pan, + May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed + With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er + They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer + Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep, + Dinted and sore all over from their claws! + Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills + By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist, + The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range + With the far Æthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks + Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves, + Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes + By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill, + Or fair Dionè's rocky pedestal, + And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike + The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend. + And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear? + The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.' + We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more, + Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock + Crow to wake others up to numb despair! + Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave: + While we make ease our study, and secure + Some witch, to charm all evil from our door." + + I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before, + Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,' + And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while, + Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I, + And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay + Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed + And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we? + A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead; + Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on + From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs + The sweet cicada chirped laboriously. + Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away + The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark + Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan, + And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee. + All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all: + Pears at our feet, and apples at our side + Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground + Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed + From the cask's head the crust of four long years. + Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks, + Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er + Set before Heracles a cup so brave + In Pholus' cavern--did as nectarous draughts + Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand + Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong, + Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:-- + As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us + All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home? + Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again + Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles, + Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm. + + + + +IDYLL VIII. + + +The Triumph of Daphnis. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A GOATHERD_. + + Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as legend tells, + Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the fells. + Both chins were gilt with coming beards: both lads could sing and play: + Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to say:-- + "Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing kine? + I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than thine." + Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made reply: + "O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and high; + But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing as I." + + MENALCAS. + This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with me? + + DAPHNIS. + This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with thee. + + MENALCAS. + But what, for champions such as we, would, seem a fitting prize? + + DAPHNIS. + I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother's self in size. + + MENALCAS. + A lamb I'll venture never: for aye at close of day + Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are they. + + DAPHNIS. + Then what shall be the victor's fee? What wager wilt thou lay? + + MENALCAS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths I made, full fair to view; + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + I'll risk it: risk my father's own is more than I dare do. + + DAPHNIS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths, and fair, hath Daphnis too: + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + But yesterday I made it: this finger feels the pain + Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in twain. + But who shall be our umpire? who listen to our strain? + + MENALCAS. + Suppose we hail yon goatherd; him at whose horned herd now + The dog is barking--yonder dog with white upon his brow. + + Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, and up came he; + Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would be. + To shrill Menalcas' lot it fell to start the woodland lay: + Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the way. + + MENALCAS. + "Rivers and vales, a glorious birth! Oh if Menalcas e'er + Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears: + Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young Daphnis fare + No worse, should he stray hither with his steers." + + DAPHNIS. + "Pastures and rills, a bounteous race! If Daphnis sang you e'er + Such songs as ne'er from nightingale have flowed; + Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas share + Like boon, should e'er he wend along this road." + + MENALCAS. + "'Tis spring, 'tis greenness everywhere; with milk the udders teem, + And all things that are young have life anew, + Where my sweet maiden wanders: but parched and withered seem, + When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too." + + DAPHNIS. + "Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are thronged with + bees, + Rises the oak beyond his natural growth, + Where falls my darling's footstep: but hungriness shall seize, + When she departeth, herd and herdsman both." + + MENALCAS. + "Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at thy side, + Where winds the brook by woodlands myriad-deep: + There is _her_ haunt. Go, Stump-horn, tell her how Proteus plied + (A god) the shepherd's trade, with seals for sheep." + + DAPHNIS. + "I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king; + I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze; + But 'neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, and fling + (Still clasping _her_) my carol o'er the seas." + + MENALCAS. + "Storms are the fruit-tree's bane; the brook's, a summer hot and dry; + The stag's a woven net, a gin the dove's; + Mankind's, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere I: + Zeus! Father! hadst not thou thy lady-loves?" + + + Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes rehearst: + Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas first:-- + + MENALCAS. + "O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers spare! + Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care! + What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep? It ill befits a hound, + Tending a boyish master's flock, to slumber over-sound. + And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your fill: + So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding still. + So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder fail: + Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill my pail." + Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a nightingale:-- + + DAPHNIS. + "Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow + Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, "How fair art thou!" + I vow that not one bitter word in answer did I say, + But, looking ever on the ground, went silently my way. + The heifer's voice, the heifer's breath, are passing sweet to me; + And sweet is sleep by summer-brooks upon the breezy lea: + As acorns are the green oak's pride, apples the apple-bough's; + So the cow glorieth in her calf, the cowherd in his cows." + Thus the two lads; then spoke the third, sitting his goats among: + + GOATHERD. + "O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung; + Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue. + Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And should there be some notes + That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my goats, + I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath none: + Day after day she'll fill the can, until the milk o'errun." + + Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and clapped his hands for + glee! + A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as merrily. + And how the other inly burned, struck down by his disgrace! + A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a face. + + Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the country side: + And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his bride. + + + + +IDYLL IX. + + +Pastorals. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A SHEPHERD._ + + + SHEPHERD. + A song from Daphnis! Open he the lay, + He open: and Menalcas follow next: + While the calves suck, and with the barren kine + The young bulls graze, or roam knee-deep in leaves, + And ne'er play truant. But a song from thee, + Daphnis--anon Menalcas will reply. + + DAPHNIS. + Sweet is the chorus of the calves and kine, + And sweet the herdsman's pipe. But none may vie + With Daphnis; and a rush-strown bed is mine + Near a cool rill, where carpeted I lie + On fair white goatskins. From a hill-top high + The westwind swept me down the herd entire, + Cropping the strawberries: whence it comes that I + No more heed summer, with his breath of fire, + Than lovers heed the words of mother and of sire. + + Thus Daphnis: and Menalcas answered thus:-- + + MENALCAS. + O Ætna, mother mine! A grotto fair, + Scooped in the rocks, have I: and there I keep + All that in dreams men picture! Treasured there + Are multitudes of she-goats and of sheep, + Swathed in whose wool from top to toe I sleep. + The fire that boils my pot, with oak or beech + Is piled--dry beech-logs when the snow lies deep; + And storm and sunshine, I disdain them each + As toothless sires a nut, when broth is in their reach. + + I clapped applause, and straight produced my gifts: + A staff for Daphnis--'twas the handiwork + Of nature, in my father's acres grown: + Yet might a turner find no fault therewith. + I gave his mate a goodly spiral-shell: + We stalked its inmate on the Icarian rocks + And ate him, parted fivefold among five. + He blew forthwith the trumpet on his shell. + Tell, woodland Muse--and then farewell--what song + I, the chance-comer, sang before those twain. + + SHEPHERD. + Ne'er let a falsehood scarify my tongue! + Crickets with crickets, ants with ants agree, + And hawks with hawks: and music sweetly sung, + Beyond all else, is grateful unto me. + Filled aye with music may my dwelling be! + Not slumber, not the bursting forth of Spring + So charms me, nor the flowers that tempt the bee, + As those sweet Sisters. He, on whom they fling + One gracious glance, is proof to Circè's blandishing. + + + + +IDYLL X. + + +The Two Workmen. + +_MILO. BATTUS._ + + What now, poor o'erworked drudge, is on thy mind? + No more in even swathe thou layest the corn: + Thy fellow-reapers leave thee far behind, + As flocks a ewe that's footsore from a thorn. + By noon and midday what will be thy plight + If now, so soon, thy sickle fails to bite? + + + BATTUS. + Hewn from hard rocks, untired at set of sun, + Milo, didst ne'er regret some absent one? + + MILO. + Not I. What time have workers for regret? + + BATTUS. + Hath love ne'er kept thee from thy slumbers yet? + + MILO. + Nay, heaven forbid! If once the cat taste cream! + + BATTUS. + Milo, these ten days love hath been my dream. + + MILO. + You drain your wine, while vinegar's scarce with me. + + BATTUS. + --Hence since last spring untrimmed my borders be. + + MILO. + And what lass flouts thee? + + BATTUS. + She whom we heard play + Amongst Hippocoön's reapers yesterday. + + MILO. + Your sins have found you out--you're e'en served right: + You'll clasp a corn-crake in your arms all night. + + BATTUS. + You laugh: but headstrong Love is blind no less + Than Plutus: talking big is foolishness. + + MILO. + I talk not big. But lay the corn-ears low + And trill the while some love-song--easier so + Will seem your toil: you used to sing, I know. + + BATTUS. + Maids of Pieria, of my slim lass sing! + One touch of yours ennobles everything. + + [_Sings_] + Fairy Bombyca! thee do men report + Lean, dusk, a gipsy: I alone nut-brown. + Violets and pencilled hyacinths are swart, + Yet first of flowers they're chosen for a crown. + As goats pursue the clover, wolves the goat, + And cranes the ploughman, upon thee I dote. + + Had I but Croesus' wealth, we twain should stand + Gold-sculptured in Love's temple; thou, thy lyre + (Ay or a rose or apple) in thy hand, + I in my brave new shoon and dance-attire. + Fairy Bombyca! twinkling dice thy feet, + Poppies thy lips, thy ways none knows how sweet! + + MILO. + Who dreamed what subtle strains our bumpkin wrought? + How shone the artist in each measured verse! + Fie on the beard that I have grown for naught! + Mark, lad, these lines by glorious Lytierse. + + [_Sings_] + O rich in fruit and cornblade: be this field + Tilled well, Demeter, and fair fruitage yield! + + Bind the sheaves, reapers: lest one, passing, say-- + 'A fig for these, they're never worth their pay.' + + Let the mown swathes look northward, ye who mow, + Or westward--for the ears grow fattest so. + + Avoid a noontide nap, ye threshing men: + The chaff flies thickest from the corn-ears then. + + Wake when the lark wakes; when he slumbers, close + Your work, ye reapers: and at noontide doze. + + Boys, the frogs' life for me! They need not him + Who fills the flagon, for in drink they swim. + + Better boil herbs, thou toiler after gain, + Than, splitting cummin, split thy hand in twain. + + Strains such as these, I trow, befit them well + Who toil and moil when noon is at its height: + Thy meagre love-tale, bumpkin, though shouldst tell + Thy grandam as she wakes up ere 'tis light. + + + + +IDYLL XI. + + +The Giant's Wooing + + + Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love, + Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one; + And this is light and pleasant to a man, + Yet hard withal to compass--minstrelsy. + As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech, + And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine. + 'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease, + Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen + On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph: + No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer, + But a fell madman, blind to all but love. + Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep + Unbid: while he upon the windy beach, + Singing his Galatea, sat and pined + From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart: + Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there. + Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down + On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and sang:-- + + "White Galatea, why disdain thy love? + White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb, + Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes! + If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large; + If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone, + Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near. + I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since, + To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell, + Thou and my mother, piloted by me. + I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth + For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee. + I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy: + Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans + From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye + Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip. + Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep + That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide: + In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still + Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows. + Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet, + Singing our loves--ours, honey, thine and mine-- + At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven + (Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee. + Oh come to me--thou shalt not rue the day-- + And let the mad seas beat against the shore! + 'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night: + Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun, + And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there: + And a cold spring that pine-clad Ætna flings + Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods! + Who would not change for this the ocean-waves? + + "But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken logs + Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire. + Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye, + Mine only eye wherein is my delight. + Oh why was I not born a finny thing, + To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand, + Denied thy lips--and bring thee lilies white + And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom! + Nay--summer hath his flowers and autumn his; + I could not bring all these the selfsame day. + Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road, + Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim, + That haply I may learn what bliss ye find + In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come + Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget + (As I do, sitting here) to get thee home: + And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth, + And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese! + + "The blame's my mother's; she is false to me; + Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake, + Though day by day she sees me pine and pine. + I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet + To anguish her--as I am anguished now." + + O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy wits? + Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs + To feed thy lambkins--'twere the shrewder part. + Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe: + The world hath Galateas fairer yet. + + "--Many a fair damsel bids me sport with her + The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear. + On land at least I still am somebody." + + Thus did the Giant feed his love on song, + And gained more ease than may be bought with gold. + + + + +IDYLL XII. + +The Comrades + + Thou art come, lad, come! Scarce thrice hath dusk to day + Given place--but lovers in an hour grow gray. + As spring's more sweet than winter, grapes than thorns, + The ewe's fleece richer than her latest-born's; + As young girls' charms the thrice-wed wife's outshine, + As fawns are lither than the ungainly kine, + Or as the nightingale's clear notes outvie + The mingled music of all birds that fly; + So at thy coming passing glad was I. + I ran to greet thee e'en as pilgrims run + To beechen shadows from the scorching sun: + Oh if on us accordant Loves would breathe, + And our two names to future years bequeath! + + 'These twain'--let men say--'lived in olden days. + This was a _yokel_ (in their country-phrase), + That was his _mate_ (so talked these simple folk): + And lovingly they bore a mutual yoke. + The hearts of men were made of sterling gold, + When troth met troth, in those brave days of old,' + + O Zeus, O gods who age not nor decay! + Let e'en two hundred ages roll away, + But at the last these tidings let me learn, + Borne o'er the fatal pool whence none return:-- + "By every tongue thy constancy is sung, + Thine and thy favourite's--chiefly by the young." + But lo, the future is in heaven's high hand: + Meanwhile thy graces all my praise demand, + Not false lip-praise, not idly bubbling froth-- + For though thy wrath be kindled, e'en thy wrath + Hath no sting in it: doubly I am caressed, + And go my way repaid with interest. + + Oarsmen of Megara, ruled by Nisus erst! + Yours be all bliss, because ye honoured first + That true child-lover, Attic Diocles. + Around his gravestone with the first spring-breeze + Flock the bairns all, to win the kissing-prize: + And whoso sweetliest lip to lip applies + Goes crown-clad home to its mother. Blest is he + Who in such strife is named the referee: + To brightfaced Ganymede full oft he'll cry + To lend his lip the potencies that lie + Within that stone with which the usurers + Detect base metal, and which never errs. + + + + +IDYLL XIII. + + +Hylas. + + Not for us only, Nicias, (vain the dream,) + Sprung from what god soe'er, was Eros born: + Not to us only grace doth graceful seem, + Frail things who wot not of the coming morn. + No--for Amphitryon's iron-hearted son, + Who braved the lion, was the slave of one:-- + + A fair curled creature, Hylas was his name. + He taught him, as a father might his child, + All songs whereby himself had risen to fame; + Nor ever from his side would be beguiled + When noon was high, nor when white steeds convey + Back to heaven's gates the chariot of the day, + + Nor when the hen's shrill brood becomes aware + Of bed-time, as the mother's flapping wings + Shadow the dust-browned beam. 'Twas all his care + To shape unto his own imaginings + And to the harness train his favourite youth, + Till he became a man in very truth. + + Meanwhile, when kingly Jason steered in quest + Of the Gold Fleece, and chieftains at his side + Chosen from all cities, proffering each her best, + To rich Iolchos came that warrior tried, + And joined him unto trim-built Argo's crew; + And with Alcmena's son came Hylas too. + + Through the great gulf shot Argo like a bird-- + And by-and-bye reached Phasis, ne'er o'erta'en + By those in-rushing rocks, that have not stirred + Since then, but bask, twin monsters, on the main. + But now, when waned the spring, and lambs were fed + In far-off fields, and Pleiads gleamed overhead, + + That cream and flower of knighthood looked to sail. + They came, within broad Argo safely stowed, + (When for three days had blown the southern gale) + To Hellespont, and in Propontis rode + At anchor, where Cianian oxen now + Broaden the furrows with the busy plough. + + They leapt ashore, and, keeping rank, prepared + Their evening meal: a grassy meadow spread + Before their eyes, and many a warrior shared + (Thanks to its verdurous stores) one lowly bed. + And while they cut tall marigolds from their stem + And sworded bulrush, Hylas slipt from them. + + Water the fair lad wont to seek and bring + To Heracles and stalwart Telamon, + (The comrades aye partook each other's fare,) + Bearing a brazen pitcher. And anon, + Where the ground dipt, a fountain he espied, + And rushes growing green about its side. + + There rose the sea-blue swallow-wort, and there + The pale-hued maidenhair, with parsley green + And vagrant marsh-flowers; and a revel rare + In the pool's midst the water-nymphs were seen + To hold, those maidens of unslumbrous eyes + Whom the belated peasant sees and flies. + + And fast did Malis and Eunica cling, + And young Nychea with her April face, + To the lad's hand, as stooping o'er the spring + He dipt his pitcher. For the young Greek's grace + Made their soft senses reel; and down he fell, + All of a sudden, into that black well. + + So drops a red star suddenly from sky + To sea--and quoth some sailor to his mate: + "Up with the tackle, boy! the breeze is high." + Him the nymphs pillowed, all disconsolate, + On their sweet laps, and with soft words beguiled; + But Heracles was troubled for the child. + + Forth went he; Scythian-wise his bow he bore + And the great club that never quits his side; + And thrice called 'Hylas'--ne'er came lustier roar + From that deep chest. Thrice Hylas heard and tried + To answer, but in tones you scarce might hear; + The water made them distant though so near. + + And as a lion, when he hears the bleat + Of fawns among the mountains far away, + A murderous lion, and with hurrying feet + Bounds from his lair to his predestined prey: + So plunged the strong man in the untrodden brake-- + (Lovers are maniacs)--for his darling's sake. + + He scoured far fields--what hill or oaken glen + Remembers not that pilgrimage of pain? + His troth to Jason was forgotten then. + Long time the good ship tarried for those twain + With hoisted sails; night came and still they cleared + The hatches, but no Heracles appeared. + + On he was wandering, reckless where he trod, + So mad a passion on his vitals preyed: + While Hylas had become a blessed god. + But the crew cursed the runaway who had stayed + Sixty good oars, and left him there to reach + Afoot bleak Phasis and the Colchian beach. + + + + +IDYLL XIV. + + +The Love of Æschines. + +_THYONICHUS. ÆSCHINES._ + + ÆSCHINES. + Hail, sir Thyonichus. + + THYONICHUS. + Æschines, to you. + + ÆSCHINES. + I have missed thee. + + THYONICHUS. + Missed me! Why what ails him now? + + ÆSCHINES. + My friend, I am ill at ease. + + THYONICHUS. + Then this explains + Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache + And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw, + A wan Pythagorean, yesterday. + He said he came from Athens: shoes he had none: + He pined, I'll warrant,--for a quartern loaf. + + ÆSCHINES. + Sir, you will joke--But I've been outraged, sore, + And by Cynisca. I shall go stark mad + Ere you suspect--a hair would turn the scale. + + THYONICHUS. + Such thou wert always, Æschines my friend. + In lazy mood or trenchant, at thy whim + The world must wag. But what's thy grievance now? + + ÆSCHINES. + That Argive, Apis the Thessalian Knight, + Myself, and gallant Cleonicus, supped + Within my grounds. Two pullets I had slain, + And a prime pig: and broached my Biblian wine; + 'Twas four years old, but fragrant as when new. + Truffles were served to us: and the drink was good. + Well, we got on, and each must drain a cup + To whom he fancied; only each must name. + We named, and took our liquor as ordained; + But she sate silent--this before my face. + Fancy my feelings! "Wilt not speak? Hast seen + A wolf?" some wag said. "Shrewdly guessed," quoth she, + And blushed--her blushes might have fired a torch. + A wolf _had_ charmed her: Wolf her neighbour's son, + Goodly and tall, and fair in divers eyes: + For his illustrious sake it was she pined. + This had been breathed, just idly, in my ear: + Shame on my beard, I ne'er pursued the hint. + Well, when we four were deep amid our cups, + The Knight must sing 'The Wolf' (a local song) + Right through for mischief. All at once she wept + Hot tears as girls of six years old might weep, + Clinging and clamouring round their mother's lap. + And I, (you know my humour, friend of mine,) + Drove at his face, one, two! She gathered up + Her robes and vanished straightway through the door. + "And so I fail to please, false lady mine? + Another lies more welcome in thy lap? + Go warm that other's heart: he'll say thy tears + Are liquid pearls." And as a swallow flies + Forth in a hurry, here or there to find + A mouthful for her brood among the eaves: + From her soft sofa passing-swift she fled + Through folding-doors and hall, with random feet: + _'The stag had gained his heath':_ you know the rest. + Three weeks, a month, nine days and ten to that, + To-day's the eleventh: and 'tis just two months + All but two days, since she and I were two. + Hence is my beard of more than Thracian growth. + Now Wolf is all to her: Wolf enters in + At midnight; I am a cypher in her eyes; + The poor Megarian, nowhere in the race. + All would go right, if I could once _unlove_: + But now, you wot, the rat hath tasted tar. + And what may cure a swain at his wit's end + I know not: Simus, (true,) a mate of mine, + Loved Epichalcus' daughter, and took ship + And came home cured. I too will sail the seas. + Worse men, it may be better, are afloat, + I shall still prove an average man-at-arms. + + THYONICHUS. + Now may thy love run smoothly, Æschines! + But should'st thou really mean a voyage out, + The freeman's best paymaster's Ptolemy. + + ÆSCHINES. + What is he else? + + THYONICHUS. + A gentleman: a man + Of wit and taste; the top of company; + Loyal to ladies; one whose eye is keen + For friends, and keener still for enemies. + Large in his bounties, he, in kingly sort, + Denies a boon to none: but, Æschines, + One should not ask too often. This premised, + If thou wilt clasp the military cloak + O'er thy right shoulder, and with legs astride + Await the onward rush of shielded men: + Hie thee to Egypt. Age overtakes us all; + Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin, + Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time. + Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere. + + + + +IDYLL XV. + + +The Festival of Adonis. + +_GORGO. PRAXINOÄ._ + + GORGO. + Praxinoä in? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Yes, Gorgo dear! At last! + That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair, + A cushion, Eunoä! + + GORGO. + I lack naught. + + PRAXINOÄ. + Sit down. + + GORGO. + Oh, what a thing is spirit! Here I am, + Praxinoä, safe at last from all that crowd + And all those chariots--every street a mass + Of boots and uniforms! And the road, my dear, + Seemed endless--you live now so far away! + + PRAXINOÄ. + This land's-end den--I cannot call it house-- + My madcap hired to keep us twain apart + And stir up strife. 'Twas like him, odious pest! + + GORGO. + Nay call not, dear, your lord, your Deinon, names + To the babe's face. Look how it stares at you! + There, baby dear, she never meant Papa! + It understands, by'r lady! Dear Papa! + + PRAXINOÄ. + Well, yesterday (that means what day you like) + 'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy; + He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one! + + GORGO. + Just such another is that pickpocket + My Diocleides. He bought t'other day + Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit. + What were they? scraps of worn-out pedlar's-bags, + Sheer trash.--But put your cloak and mantle on; + And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king, + To see the _Adonis_. As I hear, the queen + Provides us something gorgeous. + + PRAXINOÄ. + Ay, the grand + Can do things grandly. + + GORGO. + When you've seen yourself, + What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not. + 'Twere time we started! + + PRAXINOÄ. + All time's holiday + With idlers! Eunoä, pampered minx, the jug! + Set it down here--you cats would sleep all day + On cushions--Stir yourself, fetch water, quick! + Water's our first want. How she holds the jug! + Now, pour--not, cormorant, in that wasteful way-- + You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, enough: + I have made such toilet as my fates allowed. + Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick! + + GORGO. + My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well. + What did it stand you in, straight off the loom? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more. + Then I gave all my mind to trimming it. + + GORGO. + Well, 'tis a great success. + + PRAXINOÄ. + I think it is. + My mantle, Eunoä, and my parasol! + Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home! + Horses would bite you--Boo!--Yes, cry your fill, + But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off. + You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing: + Call the dog in: make fast the outer door! + + [_Exeunt_. + + Gods! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past + This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms? + Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much + Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now + Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the passer-by. + What games men played erewhile--men shaped in crime, + Birds of a feather, rascals every one! + --We're done for, Gorgo darling--here they are, + The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me! + That bay--the savage!--reared up straight on end! + Fly, Eunoä, can't you? Doggedly she stands. + He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am + My babe's at home. + + GORGO. + Praxinoä, never mind! + See, we're before them now, and they're in line. + + PRAXINOÄ. + There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared + Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on: + A surging multitude is close behind. + + GORGO [_to Old Lady_]. + From the palace, mother? + + OLD LADY. + Ay, child. + + GORGO. + Is it fair + Of access? + + OLD LADY. + Trying brought the Greeks to Troy. + Young ladies, they must try who would succeed. + + GORGO. + The crone hath said her oracle and gone. + Women know all--how Adam married Eve. + --Praxinoä, look what crowds are round the door! + + PRAXINOÄ. + Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoä, you + Hold Eutychis--hold tight or you'll be lost. + We'll enter in a body--hold us fast! + Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two, + Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman, + (And happiness be yours) respect my robe! + + STRANGER. + I could not if I would--nathless I will. + + PRAXINOÄ. + They come in hundreds, and they push like swine. + + STRANGER. + Lady, take courage: it is all well now. + + PRAXINOÄ. + And now and ever be it well with thee, + Sweet man, for shielding us! An honest soul + And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoä: + Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom said + And locked the door upon himself and bride. + + GORGO. + Praxinoä, look! Note well this broidery first. + How exquisitely fine--too good for earth! + Empress Athenè, what strange sempstress wrought + Such work? What painter painted, realized + Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move, + Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man! + How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch + Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek, + That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death! + + A STRANGER. + Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate! + Their brogue is killing--every word a drawl! + + GORGO. + Where did he spring from? Is our prattle aught + To you, Sir? Order your own slaves about: + You're ordering Syracusan ladies now! + + Corinthians bred (to tell you one fact more) + As was Bellerophon: islanders in speech, + For Dorians may talk Doric, I presume? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Persephonè! none lords it over me, + Save one! No scullion's-wage for us from _you_! + + GORGO. + Hush, dear. The Argive's daughter's going to sing + _The Adonis_: that accomplished vocalist + Who has no rival in "_The Sailor's Grave_." + Observe her attitudinizing now. + + _Song_. + Queen, who lov'st Golgi and the Sicel hill + And Ida; Aphroditè radiant-eyed; + The stealthy-footed Hours from Acheron's rill + Brought once again Adonis to thy side + How changed in twelve short months! They travel slow, + Those precious Hours: we hail their advent still, + For blessings do they bring to all below. + O Sea-born! thou didst erst, or legend lies, + Shed on a woman's soul thy grace benign, + And Berenicè's dust immortalize. + O called by many names, at many a shrine! + For thy sweet sake doth Berenicè's child + (Herself a second Helen) deck with all + That's fair, Adonis. On his right are piled + Ripe apples fallen from the oak-tree tall; + And silver caskets at his left support + Toy-gardens, Syrian scents enshrined in gold + And alabaster, cakes of every sort + That in their ovens the pastrywomen mould, + When with white meal they mix all flowers that bloom, + Oil-cakes and honey-cakes. There stand portrayed + Each bird, each butterfly; and in the gloom + Of foliage climbing high, and downward weighed + By graceful blossoms, do the young Loves play + Like nightingales, and perch on every tree, + And flit, to try their wings, from spray to spray. + Then see the gold, the ebony! Only see + The ivory-carven eagles, bearing up + To Zeus the boy who fills his royal cup! + Soft as a dream, such tapestry gleams o'erhead + As the Milesian's self would gaze on, charmed. + But sweet Adonis hath his own sweet bed: + Next Aphroditè sleeps the roseate-armed, + A bridegroom of eighteen or nineteen years. + Kiss the smooth boyish lip--there's no sting there! + The bride hath found her own: all bliss be hers! + And him at dewy dawn we'll troop to bear + Down where the breakers hiss against the shore: + There, with dishevelled dress and unbound hair, + Bare-bosomed all, our descant wild we'll pour: + + "Thou haunt'st, Adonis, earth and heaven in turn, + Alone of heroes. Agamemnon ne'er + Could compass this, nor Aias stout and stern: + Not Hector, eldest-born of her who bare + Ten sons, not Patrocles, nor safe-returned + From Ilion Pyrrhus, such distinction earned: + Nor, elder yet, the Lapithæ, the sons + Of Pelops and Deucalion; or the crown + Of Greece, Pelasgians. Gracious may'st thou be, + Adonis, now: pour new-year's blessings down! + Right welcome dost thou come, Adonis dear: + Come when thou wilt, thou'lt find a welcome here." + + GORGO. + 'Tis fine, Praxinoä! How I envy her + Her learning, and still more her luscious voice! + We must go home: my husband's supperless: + And, in that state, the man's just vinegar. + Don't cross his path when hungry! So farewell, + Adonis, and be housed 'mid welfare aye! + + + + +IDYLL XVI. + + +The Value of Song. + + What fires the Muse's, what the minstrel's lays? + Hers some immortal's, ours some hero's praise, + Heaven is her theme, as heavenly was her birth: + We, of earth earthy, sing the sons of earth. + Yet who, of all that see the gray morn rise, + Lifts not his latch and hails with eager eyes + My Songs, yet sends them guerdonless away? + Barefoot and angry homeward journey they, + Taunt him who sent them on that idle quest, + Then crouch them deep within their empty chest, + (When wageless they return, their dismal bed) + And hide on their chill knees once more their patient head. + Where are those good old times? Who thanks us, who, + For our good word? Men list not now to do + Great deeds and worthy of the minstrel's verse: + Vassals of gain, their hand is on their purse, + Their eyes on lucre: ne'er a rusty nail + They'll give in kindness; this being aye their tale:-- + + "Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer; + Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care. + We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought? + I call him chief of bards who costs me naught." + + Yet what if all your chests with gold are lined? + Is this enjoying wealth? Oh fools and blind! + Part on your heart's desire, on minstrels spend + Part; and your kindred and your kind befriend: + And daily to the gods bid altar-fires ascend. + Nor be ye churlish hosts, but glad the heart + Of guests with wine, when they must needs depart: + And reverence most the priests of sacred song: + So, when hell hides you, shall your names live long; + Not doomed to wail on Acheron's sunless sands, + Like some poor hind, the inward of whose hands + The spade hath gnarled and knotted, born to groan, + Poor sire's poor offspring, hapless Penury's own! + + Their monthly dole erewhile unnumbered thralls + Sought in Antiochus', in Aleuas' halls; + On to the Scopadæ's byres in endless line + The calves ran lowing with the hornèd kine; + And, marshalled by the good Creondæ's swains + Myriads of choice sheep basked on Cranron's plains. + Yet had their joyaunce ended, on the day + When their sweet spirit dispossessed its clay, + To hated Acheron's ample barge resigned. + Nameless, their stored-up luxury left behind, + With the lorn dead through ages had they lain, + Had not a minstrel bade them live again:-- + Had not in woven words the Ceïan sire + Holding sweet converse with his full-toned lyre + Made even their swift steeds for aye renowned, + When from the sacred lists they came home crowned. + Forgot were Lycia's chiefs, and Hector's hair + Of gold, and Cycnus femininely fair; + But that bards bring old battles back to mind. + Odysseus--he who roamed amongst mankind + A hundred years and more, reached utmost hell + Alive, and 'scaped the giant's hideous cell-- + Had lived and died: Eumæus and his swine; + Philoetius, busy with his herded kine; + And great Laërtes' self, had passed away, + Were not their names preserved in Homer's lay. + Through song alone may man true glory taste; + The dead man's riches his survivors waste. + + But count the waves, with yon gray wind-swept main + Borne shoreward: from a red brick wash his stain + In some pool's violet depths: 'twill task thee yet + To reach the heart on baleful avarice set. + To such I say 'Fare well': let theirs be store + Of wealth; but let them always crave for more: + Horses and mules inferior things _I_ find + To the esteem and love of all mankind. + + But to what mortal's roof may I repair, + I and my Muse, and find a welcome there? + I and my Muse: for minstrels fare but ill, + Reft of those maids, who know the mightiest's will. + The cycle of the years, it flags not yet; + In many a chariot many a steed shall sweat: + And one, to manhood grown, my lays shall claim, + Whose deeds shall rival great Achilles' fame, + Who from stout Aias might have won the prize + On Simois' plain, where Phrygian Ilus lies. + Now, in their sunset home on Libya's heel, + Phoenicia's sons unwonted chillness feel: + Now, with his targe of willow at his breast, + The Syracusan bears his spear in rest, + Amongst these Hiero arms him for the war, + Eager to fight as warriors fought of yore; + The plumes float darkling o'er his helmèd brow. + O Zeus, the sire most glorious; and O thou, + Empress Athenè; and thou, damsel fair, + Who with thy mother wast decreed to bear + Rule o'er rich Corinth, o'er that city of pride + Beside whose walls Anapus' waters glide:-- + May ill winds waft across the Southern sea + (Of late a legion, now but two or three,) + Far from our isle, our foes; the doom to tell, + To wife and child, of those they loved so well; + While the old race enjoy once more the lands + Spoiled and insulted erst by alien hands! + + And fair and fruitful may their cornlands be! + Their flocks in thousands bleat upon the lea, + Fat and full-fed; their kine, as home they wind, + The lagging traveller of his rest remind! + With might and main their fallows let them till: + Till comes the seedtime, and cicalas trill + (Hid from the toilers of the hot midday + In the thick leafage) on the topmost spray! + O'er shield and spear their webs let spiders spin, + And none so much as name the battle-din! + Then Hiero's lofty deeds may minstrels bear + Beyond the Scythian ocean-main, and where + Within those ample walls, with asphalt made + Time-proof, Semiramis her empire swayed. + I am but a single voice: but many a bard + Beside me do those heavenly maids regard: + May those all love to sing, 'mid earth's acclaim, + Of Sicel Arethuse, and Hiero's fame. + + O Graces, royal nurselings, who hold dear + The Minyæ's city, once the Theban's fear: + Unbidden I tarry, whither bidden I fare + My Muse my comrade. And be ye too there, + Sisters divine! Were ye and song forgot, + What grace had earth? With you be aye my lot! + + + + +IDYLL XVII. + + +The Praise of Ptolemy. + + With Zeus begin, sweet sisters, end with Zeus, + When ye would sing the sovereign of the skies: + But first among mankind rank Ptolemy; + First, last, and midmost; being past compare. + Those mighty ones of old, half men half gods, + Wrought deeds that shine in many a subtle strain; + I, no unpractised minstrel, sing but him; + Divinest ears disdain not minstrelsy. + But as a woodman sees green Ida rise + Pine above pine, and ponders which to fell + First of those myriads; even so I pause + Where to begin the chapter of his praise: + For thousand and ten thousand are the gifts + Wherewith high heaven hath graced the kingliest king. + + Was not he born to compass noblest ends, + Lagus' own son, so soon as he matured + Schemes such as ne'er had dawned on meaner minds? + Zeus doth esteem him as the blessèd gods; + In the sire's courts his golden mansion stands. + And near him Alexander sits and smiles, + The turbaned Persian's dread; and, fronting both, + Rises the stedfast adamantine seat + Erst fashioned for the bull-slayer Heracles. + Who there holds revels with his heavenly mates, + And sees, with joy exceeding, children rise + On children; for that Zeus exempts from age + And death their frames who sprang from Heracles: + And Ptolemy, like Alexander, claims + From him; his gallant son their common sire. + And when, the banquet o'er, the Strong Man wends, + Cloyed with rich nectar, home unto his wife, + This kinsman hath in charge his cherished shafts + And bow; and that his gnarled and knotted club; + And both to white-limbed Hebè's bower of bliss + Convoy the bearded warrior and his arms. + + Then how among wise ladies--blest the pair + That reared her!--peerless Berenicè shone! + Dionè's sacred child, the Cyprian queen, + O'er that sweet bosom passed her taper hands: + And hence, 'tis said, no man loved woman e'er + As Ptolemy loved her. She o'er-repaid + His love; so, nothing doubting, he could leave + His substance in his loyal children's care, + And rest with her, fond husband with fond wife. + She that loves not bears sons, but all unlike + Their father: for her heart was otherwhere. + + O Aphroditè, matchless e'en in heaven + For beauty, thou didst love her; wouldst not let + Thy Berenicè cross the wailful waves: + But thy hand snatched her--to the blue lake bound + Else, and the dead's grim ferryman--and enshrined + With thee, to share thy honours. There she sits, + To mortals ever kind, and passion soft + Inspires, and makes the lover's burden light. + The dark-browed Argive, linked with Tydeus, bare + Diomed the slayer, famed in Calydon: + And deep-veiled Thetis unto Peleus gave + The javelineer Achilles. Thou wast born + Of Berenicè, Ptolemy by name + And by descent, a warrior's warrior child. + Cos from its mother's arms her babe received, + Its destined nursery, on its natal day: + 'Twas there Antigonè's daughter in her pangs + Cried to the goddess that could bid them cease: + Who soon was at her side, and lo! her limbs + Forgat their anguish, and a child was born + Fair, its sire's self. Cos saw, and shouted loud; + Handled the babe all tenderly, and spake: + + "Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus doth + His azure-spherèd Delos: grace the hill + Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores, + As king Apollo his Rhenæa's isle." + + So spake the isle. An eagle high overhead + Poised in the clouds screamed thrice, the prophet-bird + Of Zeus, and sent by him. For awful kings + All are his care, those chiefliest on whose birth + He smiled: exceeding glory waits on them: + Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea. + But if a myriad realms spread far and wide + O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil + To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land + Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile + Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe? + Where are like cities, peopled by like men? + Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise, + Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all + He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy. + Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby, + Syria and Libya, and the Æthiops murk; + Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves, + The Lycian and the Carian trained to war, + And all the isles: for never fleet like his + Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike + And sounding rivers hail king Ptolemy. + Many are his horsemen, many his targeteers, + Whose burdened breast is bright with clashing steel: + Light are all royal treasuries, weighed with his. + For wealth from all climes travels day by day + To his rich realm, a hive of prosperous peace. + No foeman's tramp scares monster-peopled Nile, + Waking to war her far-off villages: + No armed robber from his war-ship leaps + To spoil the herds of Egypt. Such a prince + Sits throned in her broad plains, in whose right arm + Quivers the spear, the bright-haired Ptolemy. + Like a true king, he guards with might and main + The wealth his sires' arm won him and his own. + Nor strown all idly o'er his sumptuous halls + Lie piles that seem the work of labouring ants. + The holy homes of gods are rich therewith; + Theirs are the firstfruits, earnest aye of more. + And freely mighty kings thereof partake, + Freely great cities, freely honoured friends. + None entered e'er the sacred lists of song, + Whose lips could breathe sweet music, but he gained + Fair guerdon at the hand of Ptolemy. + And Ptolemy do music's votaries hymn + For his good gifts--hath man a fairer lot + Than to have earned much fame among mankind? + The Atridæ's name abides, while all the wealth + Won from the sack of Priam's stately home + A mist closed o'er it, to be seen no more. + Ptolemy, he only, treads a path whose dust + Burns with the footprints of his ancestors, + And overlays those footprints with his own. + He raised rich shrines to mother and to sire, + There reared their forms in ivory and gold, + Passing in beauty, to befriend mankind. + Thighs of fat oxen oftentimes he burns + On crimsoning altars, as the months roll on, + Ay he and his staunch wife. No fairer bride + E'er clasped her lord in royal palaces: + And her heart's love her brother-husband won. + In such blest union joined the immortal pair + Whom queenly Rhea bore, and heaven obeys: + One couch the maiden of the rainbow decks + With myrrh-dipt hands for Hera and for Zeus. + + Now farewell, prince! I rank thee aye with gods: + And read this lesson to the afterdays, + Mayhap they'll prize it: 'Honour is of Zeus.' + + + + +IDYLL XVIII. + + +The Bridal of Helen. + + Whilom, in Lacedæmon, + Tript many a maiden fair + To gold-tressed Menelaus' halls, + With hyacinths in her hair: + Twelve to the Painted Chamber, + The queenliest in the land, + The clustered loveliness of Greece, + Came dancing hand in hand. + For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter, + Had just been wooed and won, + Helen the darling of the world, + By Atreus' younger son: + With woven steps they beat the floor + In unison, and sang + Their bridal-hymn of triumph + Till all the palace rang. + + "Slumberest so soon, sweet bridegroom? + Art thou o'erfond of sleep? + Or hast thou leadenweighted limbs? + Or hadst thou drunk too deep + When thou didst fling thee to thy lair? + Betimes thou should'st have sped, + If sleep were all thy purpose, + Unto thy bachelor's bed: + And left her in her mother's arms + To nestle, and to play + A girl among her girlish mates + Till deep into the day:-- + For not alone for this night, + Nor for the next alone, + But through the days and through the years + Thou hast her for thine own. + + "Nay! heaven, O happy bridegroom, + Smiled as thou enteredst in + To Sparta, like thy brother kings, + And told thee thou should'st win! + What hero son-in-law of Zeus + Hath e'er aspired to be? + Yet lo! one coverlet enfolds + The child of Zeus, and thee. + Ne'er did a thing so lovely + Roam the Achaian lea. + + "And who shall match her offspring, + If babes are like their mother? + For we were playmates once, and ran + And raced with one another + (All varnished, warrior fashion) + Along Eurotas' tide, + Thrice eighty gentle maidens, + Each in her girlhood's pride: + Yet none of all seemed faultless, + If placed by Helen's side. + + "As peers the nascent Morning + Over thy shades, O Night, + When Winter disenchains the land, + And Spring goes forth in white: + So Helen shone above us, + All loveliness and light. + + "As climbs aloft some cypress, + Garden or glade to grace; + As the Thessalian courser lends + A lustre to the race: + So bright o'er Lacedæmon + Shone Helen's rosebud face. + + "And who into the basket e'er + The yarn so deftly drew, + Or through the mazes of the web + So well the shuttle threw, + And severed from the framework + As closelywov'n a warp:-- + And who could wake with masterhand + Such music from the harp, + To broadlimbed Pallas tuning + And Artemis her lay-- + As Helen, Helen in whose eyes + The Loves for ever play? + + "O bright, O beautiful, for thee + Are matron-cares begun. + We to green paths and blossomed meads + With dawn of morn must run, + And cull a breathing chaplet; + And still our dream shall be, + Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs + Yearn in the pasture for the dams + That nursed their infancy. + + "For thee the lowly lotus-bed + We'll spoil, and plait a crown + To hang upon the shadowy plane; + For thee will we drop down + ('Neath that same shadowy platan) + Oil from our silver urn; + And carven on the bark shall be + This sentence, 'HALLOW HELEN'S TREE'; + In Dorian letters, legibly + For all men to discern. + + "Now farewell, bride, and bridegroom + Blest in thy new-found sire! + May Leto, mother of the brave, + Bring babes at your desire, + And holy Cypris either's breast + With mutual transport fire: + And Zeus the son of Cronos + Grant blessings without end, + From princely sire to princely son + For ever to descend. + + "Sleep on, and love and longing + Breathe in each other's breast; + But fail not when the morn returns + To rouse you from your rest: + With dawn shall we be stirring, + When, lifting high his fair + And feathered neck, the earliest bird + To clarion to the dawn is heard. + O god of brides and bridals, + Sing 'Happy, happy pair!'" + + + + +IDYLL XIX. + + +Love Stealing Honey. + + Once thievish Love the honeyed hives would rob, + When a bee stung him: soon he felt a throb + Through all his finger-tips, and, wild with pain, + Blew on his hands and stamped and jumped in vain. + To Aphroditè then he told his woe: + 'How can a thing so tiny hurt one so?' + She smiled and said; 'Why thou'rt a tiny thing, + As is the bee; yet sorely thou canst sting.' + + + + +IDYLL XX. + + +Town and Country + + Once I would kiss Eunicè. "Back," quoth she, + And screamed and stormed; "a sorry clown kiss me? + Your country compliments, I like not such; + No lips but gentles' would I deign to touch. + Ne'er dream of kissing me: alike I shun + Your face, your language, and your tigerish fun. + How winning are your tones, how fine your air! + Your beard how silken and how sweet your hair! + Pah! you've a sick man's lips, a blackamoor's hand: + Your breath's defilement. Leave me, I command." + + Thrice spat she on her robe, and, muttering low, + Scanned me, with half-shut eyes, from top to toe: + Brought all her woman's witcheries into play, + Still smiling in a set sarcastic way, + Till my blood boiled, my visage crimson grew + With indignation, as a rose with dew: + And so she left me, inly to repine + That such as she could flout such charms as mine. + + O shepherds, tell me true! Am I not fair? + Am I transformed? For lately I did wear + Grace as a garment; and my cheeks, o'er them + Ran the rich growth like ivy round the stem. + Like fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed; + O'er my dark eyebrows, white my forehead gleamed: + My eyes were of Athenè's radiant blue, + My mouth was milk, its accents honeydew. + Then I could sing--my tones were soft indeed!-- + To pipe or flute or flageolet or reed: + And me did every maid that roams the fell + Kiss and call fair: not so this city belle. + She scorns the herdsman; knows not how divine + Bacchus ranged once the valleys with his kine; + How Cypris, maddened for a herdsman's sake, + Deigned upon Phrygia's mountains to partake + His cares: and wooed, and wept, Adonis in the brake. + What was Endymion, sweet Selenè's love? + A herdsman's lad. Yet came she from above, + Down to green Latmos, by his side to sleep. + And did not Rhea for a herdsman weep? + Didst not thou, Zeus, become a wandering bird, + To win the love of one who drove a herd? + Selenè, Cybelè, Cypris, all loved swains: + Eunicè, loftier-bred, their kiss disdains. + Henceforth, by hill or hall, thy love disown, + Cypris, and sleep the livelong night alone. + + + + +IDYLL XXI. + + +The Fishermen. + +_ASPHALION, A COMRADE._ + + Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work, + O Diophantus: for the child of toil + Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares: + Or, if he taste the blessedness of night, + Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off. + + Two ancient fishers once lay side by side + On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut, + Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay + The weapons of their trade, basket and rod, + Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars, + And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat. + Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out + With caps and garments: such the ways and means, + Such the whole treasury of the fishermen. + They knew no luxuries: owned nor door nor dog; + Their craft their all, their mistress Poverty: + Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye + Bound their lorn hut came floating lazily. + + Ere the moon's chariot was in mid-career, + The fishers girt them for their customed toil, + And banished slumber from unwilling eyes, + And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:-- + + ASPHALION. + "They say that soon flit summer-nights away, + Because all lingering is the summer day: + Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I + Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky. + How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?" + + HIS COMRADE. + "Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so. + 'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong, + But care maims slumber, and the nights seem long." + + ASPHALION. + "Didst thou e'er study dreams? For visions fair + I saw last night; and fairly thou should'st share + The wealth I dream of, as the fish I catch. + Now, for sheer sense, I reckon few thy match; + And, for a vision, he whose motherwit + Is his sole tutor best interprets it. + And now we've time the matter to discuss: + For who could labour, lying here (like us) + Pillowed on leaves and neighboured by the deep, + Or sleeping amid thorns no easy sleep? + In rich men's halls the lamps are burning yet; + But fish come alway to the rich man's net." + + COMRADE. + "To me the vision of the night relate; + Speak, and reveal the riddle to thy mate." + + ASPHALION. + "Last evening, as I plied my watery trade, + (Not on an o'erfull stomach--we had made + Betimes a meagre meal, as you can vouch,) + I fell asleep; and lo! I seemed to crouch + Among the boulders, and for fish to wait, + Still dangling, rod in hand, my vagrant bait. + A fat fellow caught it: (e'en in sleep I'm bound + To dream of fishing, as of crusts the hound:) + Fast clung he to the hooks; his blood outwelled; + Bent with his struggling was the rod I held: + I tugged and tugged: my efforts made me ache: + 'How, with a line thus slight, this monster take?' + Then gently, just to warn him he was caught, + I twitched him once; then slacked and then made taut + My line, for now he offered not to ran; + A glance soon showed me all my task was done. + 'Twas a gold fish, pure metal every inch + That I had captured. I began to flinch: + 'What if this beauty be the sea-king's joy, + Or azure Amphitritè's treasured toy!' + With care I disengaged him--not to rip + With hasty hook the gilding from his lip: + And with a tow-line landed him, and swore + Never to set my foot on ocean more, + But with my gold live royally ashore. + So I awoke: and, comrade, lend me now + Thy wits, for I am troubled for my vow." + + COMRADE. + "Ne'er quake: you're pledged to nothing, for no prize + You gained or gazed on. Dreams are nought but lies. + Yet may this dream bear fruit; if, wide-awake + And not in dreams, you'll fish the neighbouring lake. + Fish that are meat you'll there mayhap behold, + Not die of famine, amid dreams of gold." + + + + +IDYLL XXII. + + +The Sons of Leda + + The pair I sing, that Ægis-armèd Zeus + Gave unto Leda; Castor and the dread + Of bruisers Polydeuces, whensoe'er + His harnessed hands were lifted for the fray. + Twice and again I sing the manly sons + Of Leda, those Twin Brethren, Sparta's own: + Who shield the soldier on the deadly scarp, + The horse wild-plunging o'er the crimson field, + The ship that, disregarding in her pride + Star-set and star-rise, meets disastrous gales:-- + Such gales as pile the billows mountain-high, + E'en at their own wild will, round stem or stern: + Dash o'er the hold, the timbers rive in twain, + Till mast and tackle dangle in mid-air + Shivered like toys, and, as the night wears on, + The rain of heaven falls fast, and, lashed by wind + And iron hail, broad ocean rings again. + Then can they draw from out the nether abyss + Both craft and crew, each deeming he must die: + Lo the winds cease, and o'er the burnished deep + Comes stillness; this way flee the clouds and that; + And shine out clear the Great Bear and the Less, + And, 'twixt the Asses dimly seen, the Crib + Foretells fair voyage to the mariner. + O saviours, O companions of mankind, + Matchless on horse or harp, in lists or lay; + Which of ye twain demands my earliest song? + Of both I sing; of Polydeuces first. + + Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks, + And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws, + Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight; + There by one ladder disembarked a host + Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship. + On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff, + They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires: + Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed, + And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face, + Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both, + Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found + Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring + Brimful of purest water. In the depths + Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed + The pebbles: high above it pine and plane + And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green; + With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes + The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee. + There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk + And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears: + Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbèd chest; + Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame: + And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm + Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones + Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth + By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine + Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin. + Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:-- + + POLYDEUCES. + Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore? + + AMYCUS. + Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before! + + POLYDEUCES. + Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we. + + AMYCUS. + Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee. + + POLYDEUCES. + What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king? + + AMYCUS. + E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing. + + POLYDEUCES. + Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go. + + AMYCUS. + I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow. + + POLYDEUCES. + Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip? + + AMYCUS. + Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip. + + POLYDEUCES. + Can silver move thee? or if not, what can? + + AMYCUS. + Stand up and fight me singly, man with man. + + POLYDEUCES. + With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye? + + AMYCUS. + Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try. + + POLYDEUCES. + This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand? + + AMYCUS. + I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand. + + POLYDEUCES. + Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign? + + AMYCUS. + Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine. + + POLYDEUCES. + By crimson-crested cocks such games are won. + + AMYCUS. + Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none. + + He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew + His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine + Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long, + Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too, + The peerless in the lists, went forth and called + From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all. + + Then either warrior armed with coils of hide + His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands, + And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring. + First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch + The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil, + O Polydeuces, valour by address; + And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote. + He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war; + Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed, + Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still, + And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows. + Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered + Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space + This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down. + But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus + Scored him with swift exchange of left and right, + And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child + Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds, + He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood. + Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw + The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars, + And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes. + Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there + A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all, + Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose, + And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man + Measured his length supine amid the fern. + Keen was the fighting when he rose again, + Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt. + But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest + And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe + Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds. + While the one sweated all his bulk away, + And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now, + The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought + In semblance and in size. But in what wise + The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed, + Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold + A secret not mine own; at thy behest + Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt. + + Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed, + Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge + Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved + From his right hip his ponderous other-arm. + And hit and harmed had been Amyclæ's king; + But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist + The foe's left temple--fast the life-blood streamed + From the grim rift--and on his shoulder fell. + While with his left he reached the mouth, and made + The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye + His plashing blows, made havoc of his face + And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad + He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed + The strife, for he was even at death's door. + No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands, + O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath, + Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths, + Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more. + + Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I thee, + Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse + And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass. + + + PART II. + + The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away, + Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit + Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus, + Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords. + And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained, + All leapt from out their cars, and front to front + Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields. + First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm: + + "Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in hand, + Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives? + To us Leucippus these his daughters gave, + Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath. + Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed + And kine and asses and whatever is his, + Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes. + How often spake I thus before your face, + Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase: + 'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men + Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere. + Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds + Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad, + And Argos and Messene and the towns + To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach. + There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid + Second to none in godliness or wit: + Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will, + For all men court the kinship of the brave; + And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood + Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war. + Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass; + Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.' + So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas + The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace + With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice. + Yet listen to me now if ne'er before: + Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side. + But if ye lust for war, if strife must break + Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud, + Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands + And his cousin Idas from the abhorrèd fray: + While I and Castor, the two younger-born, + Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires + Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead + Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates, + To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave, + And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were + At cost so small to lay so huge a strife." + + He spoke--his words heaven gave not to the winds. + They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled + Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring, + And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear. + And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance; + High waved the plume on either warrior's helm. + First each at other thrust with busy spear + Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed: + But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields + Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain. + Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new modes + Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none. + Oft Castor on broad shield and plumèd helm + Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield, + Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon, + As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee, + Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off + His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword. + And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb + He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw + The battle of the brethren. But the child + Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave + Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke + His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell, + And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep. + Nor did their mother see her elder son + Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home. + For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb + A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man + Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid, + And struck the marble fabric from his grasp, + And with red lightning burned his frame to dust. + So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke + The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire. + Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye + The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well + The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs + That trod Troy down for Meneläus' sake? + The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds + Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state, + And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks, + And of Achilles towering in the strife. + Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song + The Muse accords me, even all my store! + The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy. + + + + +IDYLL XXIII. + + +Love Avenged + + A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one + Whose mood was froward as her face was fair. + Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none: + Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he bare + A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart: + Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart. + + So he found naught his furnace to allay; + No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind eyes, + Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play + Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are shy + Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she; + Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously. + + Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face, + That flushed, then altering put on blank disdain. + Yet, even then, her anger had its grace, + And made her lover fall in love again. + At last, unable to endure his flame, + To the fell threshold all in tears he came: + + Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said: + "O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid + Unworthy of all love, by lions bred, + See, my last offering at thy feet is laid, + The halter that shall hang me! So no more + For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore. + + Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare. + There is a path, that whoso treads hath ease + (Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there. + But if I drain that chalice to the lees, + I may not quench the love I have for you; + Now at your gates I cast my long adieu. + + Your future I foresee. The rose is gay, + And passing-sweet the violet of the spring: + Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay. + The lily droops and dies, that lustrous thing; + The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast; + And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last. + + The time shall come, when you shall feel as I; + And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter tear. + But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy. + When you come forth, and see me hanging here, + E'en at your door, forget not my hard case; + But pause and weep me for a moment's space. + + And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread + O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall, + That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me--let the dead + Be privileged thus highly--last of all. + You need not fear me: not if your disdain + Changed into fondness could I live again. + + And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me: + And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no more:' + Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;' + And write this epitaph, scratched upon your door: + _Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until + Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him ill_.'" + + This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone + At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he laid, + And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown, + And his neck noosed. In air the body swayed, + Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more + The maid, and saw him hanging at her door. + + No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear + She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to soil, + By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear. + But on she went to watch the athletes' toil, + Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside: + And there she met the god she had defied. + + For on a marble pedestal Eros stood + Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and smote + And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood; + And to the top a girl's cry seemed to float. + Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell; + And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well. + + + + +IDYLL XXIV. + + +The Infant Heracles. + + Alcmena once had washed and given the breast + To Heracles, a babe of ten months old, + And Iphicles his junior by a night; + And cradled both within a brazen shield, + A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst + Had stript from Ptereläus fall'n in fight. + She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said: + + "Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep, + Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life: + Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!" + + She spake and rocked the shield; and in his arms + Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear + Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front + Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent, + Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things, + Snakes with their scales of azure all on end, + To the broad portal of the chamber-door, + All to devour the infant Heracles. + They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor, + Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light + Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth. + But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot, + Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all) + Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light. + Then Iphicles--so soon as he descried + The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield, + And saw their merciless fangs--cried lustily, + And kicked away his coverlet of down, + Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung + Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp + Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat, + The deadly snake's laboratory, where + He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors. + They twined and twisted round the babe that, born + After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear + E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold, + For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard, + While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke. + + "Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on me. + Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet. + Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries? + Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night, + But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know, + Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening here." + + She spake; and he, upleaping at her call, + Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device + That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch: + And he was reaching at his span-new belt, + The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood) + Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night + Spread out her hands, and all was dark again. + Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep: + "Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth: + And force with all your strength the doorbolts back! + Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls." + + Forth came at once the slaves with lighted lamps. + The house was all astir with hurrying feet. + But when they saw the suckling Heracles + With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands, + They shouted with one voice. But he must show + The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft + His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid + At his sire's feet the monsters still in death. + + Then did Alcmena to her bosom take + The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles: + Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt, + Her lord once more bethought him of his rest. + + Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was e'er. + Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing + To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth, + And bade him rede her what the end should be:-- + 'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not, + Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid + The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins. + Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.' + + Thus spake the queen, and thus he made reply: + "Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart; + And look but on the fairer side of things. + For by the precious light that long ago + Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft + Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high + They mould the silken yarn upon their lap, + Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou + Of women. Such a man in this thy son + Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven: + His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord + Of all the forest beasts and all mankind. + Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus; + His flesh given over to Trachinian fires; + And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods + Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe. + Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch + In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth + That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep + Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles + Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze + Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind: + And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes + At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe. + And let at dawn some handmaid gather up + The ashes of the fire, and diligently + Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream + Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return + Nor look behind. And purify your home + First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then, + (Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,) + Innocuous water, and the customed salt. + Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar: + So shall ye vanquish all your enemies." + + Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his years + Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car. + And Heracles as some young orchard-tree + Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire. + Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child, + A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp. + Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell, + The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man + By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er, + Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they + Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art, + Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore + Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son: + Whom no man might behold while yet far off + And wait his armed onset undismayed: + A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face. + To launch, and steer in safety round the goal, + Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel, + This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self. + Many a fair prize from listed warriors he + Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car + Whereon he sat came still unshattered home, + What gaps were in his harness time had made. + Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe + Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword; + Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade, + Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers; + This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled + From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth + Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received + Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand. + Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match + Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth. + + Such tutors this fond mother gave her son. + The stripling's bed was at his father's side, + One after his own heart, a lion's skin. + His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled + A Dorian basket, you might soothly say + Had satisfied a delver; and to close + The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal. + A simple frock went halfway down his leg: + + * * * * * + + + + +IDYLL XXV. + + +Heracles the Lion Slayer. + + * * * * * + + To whom thus spake the herdsman of the herd, + Pausing a moment from his handiwork: + "Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear + The angry looks of Hermes of the roads. + No dweller in the skies is wroth as he, + With him who saith the asking traveller nay. + + "The flocks Augéas owns, our gracious lord, + One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds. + They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks + Or god-beloved Alphéus' sacred stream, + Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds, + Some here: their folds stand separate. But before + His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades + That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair + For ever: for the low-lying meadows take + The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet, + To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine. + Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry + By the flowing river, for all eyes to see: + Here, where the platans blossom all the year, + And glimmers green the olive that enshrines + Rural Apollo, most august of gods. + Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us + His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main + His riches that are more than tongue may tell: + Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd + Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof + Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet + Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time. + Yea, all these acres wise Augéas owns, + These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green, + Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap. + Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont + Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day. + But prythee tell me thou--so shalt thou best + Serve thine own interests--wherefore art thou here? + Seeking Augéas, or mayhap some slave + That serves him? I can tell thee and I will + All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood + Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl: + That read I in thy stateliness of form; + The sons of heaven move thus among mankind." + + Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus. + "Yea, veteran, I would see the Epéan King + Augéas; surely for this end I came. + If he bides there amongst his citizens, + Ruling the folk, determining the laws, + Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide, + Some honoured master-worker in the fields, + Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply. + Are not we made dependent each on each?" + + To him the good old swain made answer thus: + "Stranger, some god hath timed thy visit here, + And given thee straightway all thy heart's desire. + Hither Augéas, offspring of the Sun, + Came, with young Phyleus splendid in his strength, + But yesterday from the city, to review + (Not in one day) his multitudinous wealth, + Methinks e'en princes say within themselves, + 'The safeguard of the flock's the master's eye.' + But haste, we'll seek him: to my own fold I + Will pilot thee; there haply find the King." + + He said and went in front: but pondered much + (As he surveyed the lion-skin and the club, + Itself an armful) whence this stranger came; + And fain had asked. But fear recalled the words + That trembled on his lip, the fear to say + Aught that his fiery friend might take amiss. + For who can fathom all his fellow's mind? + + The dogs perceived their coming, yet far off: + They scented flesh, they heard the thud of feet: + And with wild gallop, baying furiously, + Ran at Amphitryon's son: but feebly whined + And fawned upon the old man at his side. + Then Heracles, just lifting from the ground + A pebble, scared them home, and with hard words + Cursed the whole pack; and having stopped their din + (Inly rejoiced, nathless, to see them guard + So well an absent master's house) he spake: + + "Lo! what a friend the royal gods have given + Man in the dog! A trusty servant he! + Had he withal an understanding heart, + To teach him when to rage and when forbear, + What brute could claim like praise? But, lacking wit, + 'Tis but a passionate random-raving thing." + + He spake: the dogs ran scurrying to their lairs. + And now the sun wheeled round his westering car + And led still evening on: from every field + Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre. + Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine + Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven + By stress of gales, the west or mighty north, + Come up o'er all the heaven; and none may count + And naught may stay them as they sweep through air; + Such multitudes the storm's strength drives ahead, + Such multitudes climb surging in the rear-- + So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove, + And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed + With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas + Rang with their lowing. Soon enough the stalls + Were populous with the laggard-footed kine, + Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds. + Then of that legion none stood idle, none + Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do: + But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs + Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet: + One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved, + The longing young ones to the longing dams. + One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese, + Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine. + Pacing from stall to stall, Augéas saw + What revenue his herdsman brought him in. + With him his son surveyed the royal wealth, + And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles. + Then, though the heart within him was as steel, + Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon's son + Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine; + For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten, + Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes: + Such huge largess the Sun had given his child, + First of mankind for multitude of flocks. + The Sun himself gave increase day by day + To his child's herds: whatever diseases spoil + The farmer, came not there; his kine increased + In multitude and value year by year: + None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males. + Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned, + Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans, + Sires of a race to be: and twelve besides + Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun. + Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved + Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot. + Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain + They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields: + And when from the dense jungle to the plain + Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows; + Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war. + Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death, + Foremost of all for mettle and for might + And pride of heart loomed Phaeton: him the swains + Regarded as a star; so bright he shone + Among the herd, the cynosure of eyes. + He, soon as he descried the sun-dried skin + Of the grim lion, made at Heracles + (Whose eye was on him)--fain to make his crest + And sturdy brow acquainted with his flanks. + Straight the prince grasped him with no tender grasp + By the left horn, and bowed that giant bulk + To earth, neck foremost: then, by pressure brought + To bear upon his shoulder, forced him back. + The web of muscles that enwraps the nerves + Stood out from the brute's fore-arm plain to see. + Marvelled the King, and Phyleus his brave son, + At the strange prowess of Amphitryon's child. + + Then townwards, leaving straight that rich champaign, + Stout Heracles his comrade, Phyleus fared; + And soon as they had gained the paven road, + Making their way hotfooted o'er a path + (Not o'er-conspicuous in the dim green wood) + That left the farm and threaded through the vines, + Out-spake unto the child of Zeus most high, + Who followed in his steps, Augéas' son, + O'er his right shoulder glancing pleasantly. + + "O stranger, as some old familiar tale + I seem to cast thy history in my mind. + For there came one to Argos, young and tall, + By birth a Greek from Helicè-on-seas, + Who told this tale before a multitude: + How that an Argive in his presence slew + A fearful lion-beast, the dread and death + Of herdsmen; which inhabited a den + Or cavern by the grove of Nemean Zeus. + He may have come from sacred Argos' self, + Or Tiryns, or Mycenæ: what know I? + But thus he told his tale, and said the slayer + Was (if my memory serves me) Perseus' son. + Methinks no islander had dared that deed + Save thee: the lion's skin that wraps thy ribs + Argues full well some gallant feat of arms. + But tell me, warrior, first--that I may know + If my prophetic soul speak truth or not-- + Art thou the man of whom that stranger Greek + Spoke in my hearing? Have I guessed aright? + How slew you single-handed that fell beast? + How came it among rivered Nemea's glens? + For none such monster could the eagerest eye + Find in all Greece: Greece harbours bear and boar, + And deadly wolf: but not this larger game. + 'Twas this that made his listeners marvel then: + They deemed he told them travellers' tales, to win + By random words applause from standers-by." + + Then Phyleus from the mid-road edged away, + That both might walk abreast, and he might catch + More at his ease what fell from Heracles: + Who journeying now alongside thus began:-- + + "On the prior matter, O Augéas' child, + Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright. + But all that monster's history, how it fell, + Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear, + Save only whence it came: for none of all + The Argive host could read that riddle right. + Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows + Resenting, had upon Phoroneus' realm + Let loose this very scourge of humankind. + On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood + The brute ran riot: notably it cost + Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold. + And here Eurystheus bade me try my first + Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing. + So with my buxom bow and quiver lined + With arrows I set forth: my left hand held + My club, a beetling olive's stalwart trunk + And shapely, still environed in its bark: + This hand had torn from holiest Helicon + The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots. + And finding soon the lion's whereabouts, + I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped + The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death. + And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing, + In hopes to view him ere he spied out me. + But midday came, and nowhere could I see + One footprint of the beast or hear his roar: + And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask, + Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea; + For wan dismay kept each man in his hut. + Still on I footed, searching through and through + The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw + The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength. + Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked + At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane, + Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip + With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips. + I, crouched among the shadows of the trees + On the green hill-top, waited his approach, + And as he came I aimed at his left flank. + The barbèd shaft sped idly, nor could pierce + The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass. + He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head, + And ran his eyes o'er all the vicinage, + And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat. + Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft, + Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain. + In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs + Are seated: still the arrow sank not in, + But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet. + Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined, + To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast + Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides + With his huge tail, and opened war at once. + Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end + With rage: his spine moved sinuous as a bow, + Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin. + And e'en as, when a chariot-builder bends + With practised skill his shafts of splintered fig, + Hot from the fire, to be his axle-wheels; + Flies the tough-rinded sapling from the hands + That shape it, at a bound recoiling far: + So from far-off the dread beast, all of a heap, + Sprang on me, hungering for my life-blood. I + Thrust with one hand my arrows in his face + And my doffed doublet, while the other raised + My seasoned cudgel o'er his crest, and drave + Full at his temples, breaking clean in twain + On the fourfooted warrior's airy scalp + My club; and ere he reached me, down he fell. + Headlong he fell, and poised on tremulous feet + Stood, his head wagging, and his eyes grown dim; + For the shrewd stroke had shattered brain and bone. + I, marking him beside himself with pain. + Fell, ere recovering he should breathe again, + At vantage on his solid sinewy neck, + My bow and woven quiver thrown aside. + With iron clasp I gripped him from the rear + (His talons else had torn me) and, my foot + Set on him, forced to earth by dint of heel + His hinder parts, my flanks entrenched the while + Behind his fore-arm; till his thews were stretched + And strained, and on his haunches stark he stood + And lifeless; hell received his monstrous ghost. + Then with myself I counselled how to strip + From off the dead beast's limbs his shaggy hide, + A task full onerous, since I found it proof + Against all blows of steel or stone or wood. + Some god at last inspired me with the thought, + With his own claws to rend the lion's skin. + With these I flayed him soon, and sheathed and armed + My limbs against the shocks of murderous war. + Thus, sir, the Nemean lion met his end, + Erewhile the constant curse of beast and man." + + + + +IDYLL XXVI. + + +The Bacchanals. + + Agavè of the vermeil-tinted cheek + And Ino and Autonoä marshalled erst + Three bands of revellers under one hill-peak. + They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage first, + Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel; + And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden fell: + + To Semelè three, to Dionysus nine. + Next, from a vase drew offerings subtly wrought, + And prayed and placed them on each fresh green shrine; + So by the god, who loved such tribute, taught. + Perched on the sheer cliff, Pentheus could espy + All, in a mastick hoar ensconced that grew thereby. + + Autonoä marked him, and with, frightful cries + Flew to make havoc of those mysteries weird + That must not be profaned by vulgar eyes. + Her frenzy frenzied all. Then Pentheus feared + And fled: and in his wake those damsels three, + Each with her trailing robe up-gathered to the knee. + + "What will ye, dames," quoth Pentheus. "Thou shalt guess + At what we mean, untold," Autonoä said. + Agavè moaned--so moans a lioness + Over her young one--as she clutched his head: + While Ino on the carcass fairly laid + Her heel, and wrenched away shoulder and shoulder-blade. + + Autonoä's turn came next: and what remained + Of flesh their damsels did among them share, + And back to Thebes they came all carnage-stained, + And planted not a king but aching there. + Warned by this tale, let no man dare defy + Great Bacchus; lest a death more awful he should die, + + And when he counts nine years or scarcely ten, + Rush to his ruin. May I pass my days + Uprightly, and be loved of upright men! + And take this motto, all who covet praise: + ('Twas Ægis-bearing Zeus that spake it first:) + 'The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.' + + Now bless ye Bacchus, whom on mountain snows, + Prisoned in his thigh till then, the Almighty laid. + And bless ye fairfaced Semelè, and those + Her sisters, hymned of many a hero-maid, + Who wrought, by Bacchus fired, a deed which none + May gainsay--who shall blame that which a god hath done? + + + + +IDYLL XXVII. + + +A Countryman's Wooing. + +_DAPHNIS. A MAIDEN_. + + THE MAIDEN. + How fell sage Helen? through a swain like thee. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay the true Helen's just now kissing me. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, ne'er boast: 'what's idler than a kiss?' + + DAPHNIS. + Yet in such pleasant idling there is bliss. + + THE MAIDEN. + I'll wash my mouth: where go thy kisses then? + + DAPHNIS. + Wash, and return it--to be kissed again. + + THE MAIDEN. + Go kiss your oxen, and not unwed maids. + + DAPHNIS. + Ne'er boast; for beauty is a dream that fades. + + THE MAIDEN. + Past grapes are grapes: dead roses keep their smell. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon olives: I have a tale to tell. + + THE MAIDEN. + Not I: you fooled me with smooth words before. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon elms, and hear me pipe once more. + + THE MAIDEN. + Pipe to yourself: your piping makes me cry. + + DAPHNIS. + A maid, and flout the Paphian? Fie, oh fie! + + THE MAIDEN. + She's naught to me, if Artemis' favour last. + + DAPHNIS. + Hush, ere she smite you and entrap you fast. + + THE MAIDEN. + And let her smite me, trap me as she will! + + DAPHNIS. + Your Artemis shall be your saviour still? + + THE MAIDEN. + Unhand me! What, again? I'll tear your lip. + + DAPHNIS. + Can you, could damsel e'er, give Love the slip? + + THE MAIDEN. + You are his bondslave, but not I by Pan! + + DAPHNIS. + I doubt he'll give thee to a worser man. + + THE MAIDEN. + Many have wooed me, but I fancied none. + + DAPHNIS. + Till among many came the destined _one_. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wedlock is woe. Dear lad, what can I do? + + DAPHNIS. + Woe it is not, but joy and dancing too. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wives dread their husbands: so I've heard it said. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay, they rule o'er them. What does woman dread? + + THE MAIDEN. + Then children--Eileithya's dart is keen. + + DAPHNIS. + But the deliverer, Artemis, is your queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + And bearing children all our grace destroys. + + DAPHNIS. + Bear them and shine more lustrous in your boys. + + THE MAIDEN. + Should I say yea, what dower awaits me then? + + DAPHNIS. + Thine are my cattle, thine this glade and glen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Swear not to wed, then leave me in my woe? + + DAPHNIS. + Not I by Pan, though thou should'st bid me go. + + THE MAIDEN. + And shall a cot be mine, with farm and fold! + + DAPHNIS. + Thy cot's half-built, fair wethers range this wold. + + THE MAIDEN. + What, what to my old father must I say? + + DAPHNIS. + Soon as he hears my name he'll not say nay. + + THE MAIDEN. + Speak it: by e'en a name we're oft beguiled. + + DAPHNIS. + I'm Daphnis, Lycid's and Nomæa's child. + + THE MAIDEN. + Well-born indeed: and not less so am I. + + DAPHNIS. + I know--Menalcas' daughter may look high. + + THE MAIDEN. + That grove, where stands your sheepfold, shew me please. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay look, how green, how tall my cypress-trees. + + THE MAIDEN. + Graze, goats: I go to learn the herdsman's trade. + + DAPHNIS. + Feed, bulls: I shew my copses to my maid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, what mean you? You presume o'ermuch. + + DAPHNIS. + This waist is round, and pleasant to the touch. + + THE MAIDEN. + By Pan, I'm like to swoon! Unhand me pray! + + DAPHNIS. + Why be so timorous? Pretty coward, stay. + + THE MAIDEN. + This bank is wet: you've soiled my pretty gown. + + DAPHNIS. + See, a soft fleece to guard it I put down. + + THE MAIDEN. + And you've purloined my sash. What can this mean? + + DAPHNIS. + This sash I'll offer to the Paphian queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Stay, miscreant--some one comes--I heard a noise. + + DAPHNIS. + 'Tis but the green trees whispering of our joys. + + THE MAIDEN. + You've torn my plaidie, and I am half unclad. + + DAPHNIS. + Anon I'll give thee a yet ampler plaid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Generous just now, you'll one day grudge me bread. + + DAPHNIS. + Ah! for thy sake my life-blood I could shed. + + THE MAIDEN. + Artemis, forgive! Thy eremite breaks her vow. + + DAPHNIS. + Love, and Love's mother, claim a calf and cow. + + THE MAIDEN. + A woman I depart, my girlhood o'er. + + DAPHNIS. + Be wife, be mother; but a girl no more. + + Thus interchanging whispered talk the pair, + Their faces all aglow, long lingered there. + At length the hour arrived when they must part. + With downcast eyes, but sunshine in her heart, + She went to tend her flock; while Daphnis ran + Back to his herded bulls, a happy man. + + + + +IDYLL XXVIII. + + +The Distaff. + + Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's gift + To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household thrift, + Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a plain + Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphroditè's hallowed fane. + Thither ask I Zeus to waft me, fain to see my old friend's face, + Nicias, o'er whose birth presided every passion-breathing Grace; + Fain to meet his answering welcome; and anon deposit thee + In his lady's hands, thou marvel of laborious ivory. + Many a manly robe ye'll fashion, much translucent maiden's gear; + Nay, should e'er the fleecy mothers twice within the selfsame year + Yield their wool in yonder pasture, Theugenis of the dainty feet + Would perform the double labour: matron's cares to her are sweet. + To an idler or a trifler I had verily been loth + To resign thee, O my distaff, for the same land bred us both: + In the land Corinthian Archias built aforetime, thou hadst birth, + In our island's core and marrow, whence have sprung the kings of earth: + To the home I now transfer thee of a man who knows full well + Every craft whereby men's bodies dire diseases may repel: + There to live in sweet Miletus. Lady of the Distaff she + Shall be named, and oft reminded of her poet-friend by thee: + Men shall look on thee and murmur to each other, 'Lo! how small + Was the gift, and yet how precious! Friendship's gifts are priceless + all.' + + + + +IDYLL XXIX. + + +Loves. + + 'Sincerity comes with the wine-cup,' my dear: + Then now o'er our wine-cups let us be sincere. + My soul's treasured secret to you I'll impart; + It is this; that I never won fairly your heart. + One half of my life, I am conscious, has flown; + The residue lives on your image alone. + You are kind, and I dream I'm in paradise then; + You are angry, and lo! all is darkness again. + It is right to torment one who loves you? Obey + Your elder; 'twere best; and you'll thank me one day. + Settle down in one nest on one tree (taking care + That no cruel reptile can clamber up there); + As it is with your lovers you're fairly perplext; + One day you choose one bough, another the next. + Whoe'er at all struck by your graces appears, + Is more to you straight than the comrade of years; + While he's like the friend of a day put aside; + For the breath of your nostrils, I think, is your pride. + Form a friendship, for life, with some likely young lad; + So doing, in honour your name shall be had. + Nor would Love use you hardly; though lightly can he + Bind strong men in chains, and has wrought upon me + Till the steel is as wax--but I'm longing to press + That exquisite mouth with a clinging caress. + + No? Reflect that you're older each year than the last; + That we all must grow gray, and the wrinkles come fast. + Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides + Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides: + Nor are men over keen to catch charms as they fly. + Think of this and be gentle, be loving as I: + When your years are maturer, we two shall be then + The pair in the Iliad over again. + But if you consign all my words to the wind + And say, 'Why annoy me? you're not to my mind,' + I--who lately in quest of the Gold Fruit had sped + For your sake, or of Cerberus guard of the dead-- + Though you called me, would ne'er stir a foot from my door, + For my love and my sorrow thenceforth will be o'er. + + + + +IDYLL XXX. + + +The Death of Adonis. + + Cythera saw Adonis + And knew that he was dead; + She marked the brow, all grisly now, + The cheek no longer red; + And "Bring the boar before me" + Unto her Loves she said. + + Forthwith her winged attendants + Ranged all the woodland o'er, + And found and bound in fetters + Threefold the grisly boar: + One dragged him at a rope's end + E'en as a vanquished foe; + One went behind and drave him + And smote him with his bow: + On paced the creature feebly; + He feared Cythera so. + + To him said Aphroditè: + "So, worst of beasts, 'twas you + Who rent that thigh asunder, + Who him that loved me slew?" + And thus the beast made answer: + "Cythera, hear me swear + By thee, by him that loved thee, + And by these bonds I wear, + And them before whose hounds I ran-- + I meant no mischief to the man + Who seemed to thee so fair. + + "As on a carven statue + Men gaze, I gazed on him; + I seemed on fire with mad desire + To kiss that offered limb: + My ruin, Aphroditè, + Thus followed from my whim. + + "Now therefore take and punish + And fairly cut away + These all unruly tusks of mine; + For to what end serve they? + And if thine indignation + Be not content with this, + Cut off the mouth that ventured + To offer him a kiss"-- + + But Aphroditè pitied + And bade them loose his chain. + The boar from that day forward + Still followed in her train; + Nor ever to the wildwood + Attempted to return, + But in the focus of Desire + Preferred to burn and burn. + + + + +IDYLL XXXI. + + +Loves. + + Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills! + Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom fills. + Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest swain + Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in vain. + Yet doth now this thing of evil my longsuffering heart beguile, + Though the utmost she vouchsafes me is the shadow of a smile: + And I soon shall know no respite, have no solace e'en in sleep. + Yesterday I watched her pass me, and from down-dropt eyelids peep + At the face she dared not gaze on--every moment blushing more-- + And my love took hold upon me as it never took before. + Home I went a wounded creature, with a gnawing at my heart; + And unto the soul within me did my bitterness impart. + + "Soul, why deal with me in this wise? Shall thy folly know no bound? + Canst thou look upon these temples, with their locks of silver crowned, + And still deem thee young and shapely? Nay, my soul, let us be sage; + Act as they that have already sipped the wisdom-cup of age. + Men have loved and have forgotten. Happiest of all is he + To the lover's woes a stranger, from the lover's fetters free: + Lightly his existence passes, as a wild-deer fleeting fast: + Tamed, it may be, he shall voyage in a maiden's wake at last: + Still to-day 'tis his to revel with his mates in boyhood's flowers. + As to thee, thy brain and marrow passion evermore devours, + Prey to memories that haunt thee e'en in visions of the night; + And a year shall scarcely pluck thee from thy miserable plight." + + Such and divers such reproaches did I heap upon my soul. + And my soul in turn made answer:--"Whoso deems he can control + Wily love, the same shall lightly gaze upon the stars of heaven + And declare by what their number overpasses seven times seven. + Will I, nill I, I may never from my neck his yoke unloose. + So, my friend, a god hath willed it: he whose plots could outwit Zeus, + And the queen whose home is Cyprus. I, a leaflet of to-day, + I whose breath is in my nostrils, am I wrong to own his sway?" + + + + +FRAGMENT PROM THE "BERENICE." + + Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal, + For bare existence harrowing yonder mere, + To this our Lady slay at even-fall + That holy fish, which, since it hath no peer + For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about here + Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down + Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear + To find them empty * * * * + + + +EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS. + + + I. + + Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon + Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon: + Thine, Pythian Pæan, that dark-foliaged bay; + With such thy Delphian crags thy front array. + This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine, + Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine. + + + II. + + To Pan doth white-limbed Daphnis offer here + (He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's flute) + His reeds of many a stop, his barbèd spear, + And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of fruit. + + + III. + + Daphnis, thou slumberest on the leaf-strown lea, + Thy frame at rest, thy springes newly spread + O'er the fell-side. But two are hunting thee: + Pan, and Priapus with his fair young head + Hung with wan ivy. See! they come, they leap + Into thy lair--fly, fly,--shake off the coil of sleep! + + + IV. + + For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer, + Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been set: + It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear; + But I think there is life in the patriarch yet. + He is handsomely shrined within fair chapel-walls; + Where, fringed with sweet cypress and myrtle and bay, + A stream ever-fresh from the rock's hollow falls, + And the ringleted vine her ripe store doth display: + And the blackbirds, those shrill-piping songsters of spring, + Wake the echoes with wild inarticulate song: + And the notes of the nightingale plaintively ring, + As she pours from her dun throat her lay sweet and strong. + Sitting there, to Priapus, the gracious one, pray + That the lore he has taught me I soon may unlearn: + Say I'll give him a kid, and in case he says nay + To this offer, three victims to him will I burn; + A kid, a fleeced ram, and a lamb sleek and fat; + He will listen, mayhap, to my prayers upon that. + + + V. + + Prythee, sing something sweet to me--you that can play + First and second at once. Then I too will essay + To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute + Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute. + In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep, + And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep. + + + VI. + + Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes? + Thy kid was a fair one, I own: + But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize, + And to darkness her spirit hath flown. + Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their cries + There is left of her never a bone. + + + VII. + + For a Statue of Æsculapius. + + Far as Miletus travelled Pæan's son; + There to be guest of Nicias, guest of one + Who heals all sickness; and who still reveres + Him, for his sake this cedarn image rears. + The sculptor's hand right well did Nicias fill; + And here the sculptor lavished all his skill. + + + VIII. + + Ortho's Epitaph. + + Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge: + Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night. + I did so and died. My possessions were large; + Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me quite. + + + IX. + + Epitaph of Cleonicus. + + Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea + Out of season: our tenure of life is but frail. + Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he + From the valleys of Syria, with many a bale: + With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem + When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with them. + + + X. + + For a Statue of the Muses. + + To you this marble statue, maids divine, + Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine. + Your votary all admit him: by this skill + He gat him fame: and you he honours still. + + + XI. + + Epitaph of Eusthenes. + + Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies, + Who could tell all your thoughts by a glance at your eyes. + A stranger, with strangers his honoured bones rest; + They valued sweet song, and he gave them his best. + All the honours of death doth the poet possess: + If a small one, they mourned for him nevertheless. + + + XII. + + For a Tripod Erected by Damoteles to Bacchus. + + The precentor Damoteles, Bacchus, exalts + Your tripod, and, sweetest of deities, you. + He was champion of men, if his boyhood had faults; + And he ever loved honour and seemliness too. + + + XIII. + + For a Statue of Anacreon. + + This statue, stranger, scan with earnest gaze; + And, home returning, say "I have beheld + Anacreon, in Teos; him whose lays + Were all unmatched among our sires of eld." + Say further: "Youth and beauty pleased him best;" + And all the man will fairly stand exprest. + + + XIV. + + Epitaph of Eurymedon. + + Thou hast gone to the grave, and abandoned thy son + Yet a babe, thy own manhood but scarcely begun. + Thou art throned among gods: and thy country will take + Thy child to her heart, for his brave father's sake. + + + XV. + + Another. + + Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave + Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave, + By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.' + The turf should lie light on so sacred a head. + + + XVI. + + For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite. + + Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth; + Not that base one who's wooed by the children of earth. + 'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all, + Chrysogonè, placed her in Amphicles' hall: + Chrysogonè's heart, as her children, was his, + And each year they knew better what happiness is. + For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their friend; + Religion is policy too in the end. + + + XVII. + + To Epicharmus. + + Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was he + The sire of Comedy. + Of his proper self bereavèd, Bacchus, unto thee we rear + His brazen image here; + We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we can + Do for our countryman, + Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample store + Of legendary lore, + Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' life, he spake: + We honour him for their sake. + + + XVIII. + + Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius. + + The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse + This stone--inscribed _To Cleita_--reared in the midhighway. + Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse; + Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this day? + + + XIX. + + To Archilochus. + + Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder days, + By east and west + Alike's confest + The mighty lyrist's praise. + Delian Apollo loved him well, and well the sister-choir: + His songs were fraught + With subtle thought, + And matchless was his lyre. + + + XX. + + Under a Statue of Peisander, + WHO WROTE THE LABOURS OF HERACLES. + + He whom ye gaze on was the first + That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed + Of him whose arm was swift to smite, + Who dared the lion to the fight: + That tale, so strange, so manifold, + Peisander of Cameirus told. + For this good work, thou may'st be sure, + His country placed him here, + In solid brass that shall endure + Through many a month and year. + + + XXI. + + Epitaph of Hipponax. + + Behold Hipponax' burialplace, + A true bard's grave. + Approach it not, if you're a base + And base-born knave. + But if your sires were honest men + And unblamed you, + Sit down thereon serenely then, + And eke sleep too. + + * * * * * + + Tuneful Hipponax rests him here. + Let no base rascal venture near. + Ye who rank high in birth and mind + Sit down--and sleep, if so inclined. + + + XXII. + + On his own Book. + + Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong + To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song. + I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair, + And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11533 *** diff --git a/11533-h/11533-h.htm b/11533-h/11533-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d9c970 --- /dev/null +++ b/11533-h/11533-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9484 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> + +<html> +<head> + <meta name="generator" content= + "HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org"> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Theocritus, by C.S. + Calverley.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 10em;} + .poem p.i14 {margin-left: 14em;} + .poem p.i20 {margin-left: 20em;} + .poem p.i28 {margin-left: 28em;} + .poem p.i36 {margin-left: 36em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11533 ***</div> + + <br> + <br> + <br> + + <h1>THEOCRITUS</h1> + + <h2>TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE.</h2> + + <h3>BY</h3> + + <h2>C.S. CALVERLEY,</h2><br> + <br> + <br> + + <center> + <i>LATE FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE</i>. + </center> + + <center> + AUTHOR OF "FLY LEAVES," ETC. + </center> + + <center> + THIRD EDITION. + </center><br> + <br> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="PREFACE"></a> + + <h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + <p>I had intended translating all or nearly all these Idylls into + blank verse, as the natural equivalent of Greek or of Latin + hexameters; only deviating into rhyme where occasion seemed to + demand it. But I found that other metres had their special + advantages: the fourteen-syllable line in particular has that, + among others, of containing about the same number of syllables as + an ordinary line of Theocritus. And there is also no doubt + something gained by variety.</p> + + <p>Several recent writers on the subject have laid down that + every translation of Greek poetry, especially bucolic poetry, + must be in rhyme of some sort. But they have seldom stated, and + it is hard to see, why. There is no rhyme in the original, and + <i>primâ facie</i> should be none in the translation. + Professor Blackie has, it is true, pointed out the "assonances, + alliterations, and rhymes," which are found in more or less + abundance in Ionic Greek.<a name="FNanchorA"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_A"><sup>[A]</sup></a> These may of course be purely + accidental, like the hexameters in Livy or the blank-verse lines + in Mr. Dickens's prose: but accidental or not (it may be said) + they are there, and ought to be recognised. May we not then + recognise them by introducing similar assonances, etc., here and + there into the English version? or by availing ourselves of what + Professor Blackie again calls attention to, the "compensating + powers"<a name="FNanchorB"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_B"><sup>[B]</sup></a> of English? I think with him + that it was hard to speak of our language as one which + "transforms <i>boos megaloio boeién</i> into 'great ox's + hide.'" Such phrases as 'The Lord is a man of war,' 'The trumpet + spake not to the armed throng,' are to my ear quite as grand as + Homer: and it would be equally fair to ask what we are to make of + a language which transforms Milton's line into [Greek: ê + shalpigx ohy proshephê ton hôplismhenon + hochlon.]<a name="FNanchorC"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_C"><sup>[C]</sup></a> But be this as it may, these + phenomena are surely too rare and too arbitrary to be adequately + represented by any regularly recurring rhyme: and the question + remains, what is there in the unrhymed original to which rhyme + answers?</p> + + <p>To me its effect is to divide the verse into couplets, + triplets, or (if the word may include them all) <i>stanzas</i> of + some kind. Without rhyme we have no apparent means of conveying + the effect of stanzas. There are of course devices such as + repeating a line or part of a line at stated intervals, as is + done in 'Tears, idle tears' and elsewhere: but clearly none of + these would be available to a translator. Where therefore he has + to express stanzas, it is easy to see that rhyme may be + admissible and even necessary. Pope's couplet may (or may not) + stand for elegiacs, and the <i>In Memoriam</i> stanza for some + one of Horace's metres. Where the heroes of Virgil's Eclogues + sing alternately four lines each, Gray's quatrain seems to + suggest itself: and where a similar case occurs in these Idylls + (as for instance in the ninth) I thought it might be met by + taking whatever received English stanza was nearest the required + length. Pope's couplet again may possibly best convey the + pomposity of some Idylls and the point of others. And there may + be divers considerations of this kind. But, speaking generally, + where the translator has not to intimate stanzas—where he + has on the contrary to intimate that there are none—rhyme + seems at first sight an intrusion and a <i>suggestio + falsi</i>.</p> + + <p>No doubt (as has been observed) what 'Pastorals' we have are + mostly written in what is called the heroic measure. But the + reason is, I suppose, not far to seek. Dryden and Pope wrote + 'heroics,' not from any sense of their fitness for bucolic + poetry, but from a sense of their universal fitness: and their + followers copied them. But probably no scholar would affirm that + any poem, original or translated, by Pope or Dryden or any of + their school, really resembles in any degree the bucolic poetry + of the Greeks. Mr. Morris, whose poems appear to me to resemble + it more almost than anything I have ever seen, of course writes + what is technically Pope's metre, and equally of course is not of + Pope's school. Whether or no Pope and Dryden <i>intended</i> to + resemble the old bucolic poets in style is, to say the least, + immaterial. If they did not, there is no reason whatever why any + of us who do should adopt their metre: if they did and failed, + there is every reason why we should select a different one.</p> + + <p>Professor Conington has adduced one cogent argument against + blank verse: that is, that hardly any of us can write it.<a name= + "FNanchorD"></a><a href="#Footnote_D"><sup>[D]</sup></a> But if + this is so—if the 'blank verse' which we write is virtually + prose in disguise—the addition of rhyme would only make it + rhymed prose, and we should be as far as ever from "verse really + deserving the name."<a name="FNanchorE"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_E"><sup>[E]</sup></a> Unless (which I can hardly + imagine) the mere incident of 'terminal consonance' can + constitute that verse which would not be verse independently, + this argument is equally good against attempting verse of any + kind: we should still be writing disguised, and had better write + undisguised, prose. Prose translations are of course tenable, and + are (I am told) advocated by another very eminent critic. These + considerations against them occur to one: that, among the + characteristics of his original which the translator is bound to + preserve, one is that he wrote metrically; and that the prattle + which passes muster, and sounds perhaps rather pretty than + otherwise, in metre, would in plain prose be insufferable. Very + likely some exceptional sort of prose may be meant, which would + dispose of all such difficulties: but this would be harder for an + ordinary writer to evolve out of his own brain, than to construct + any species of verse for which he has at least a model and a + precedent.</p> + + <p>These remarks are made to shew that my metres were not + selected, as it might appear, at hap-hazard. Metre is not so + unimportant as to justify that. For the rest, I have used + Briggs's edition<a name="FNanchorF"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_F"><sup>[F]</sup></a> (<i>Poetæ Bucolici + Græci</i>), and have never, that I am aware of, taken + refuge in any various reading where I could make any sense at all + of the text as given by him. Sometimes I have been content to put + down what I felt was a wrong rendering rather than omit; but only + in cases where the original was plainly corrupt, and all + suggested emendations seemed to me hopelessly wide of the mark. + What, for instance, may be the true meaning of [Greek: bolbhost + tist kochlhiast] in the fourteenth Idyll I have no idea. It is + not very important. And no doubt the sense of the last two lines + of the "<i>Death of Adonis</i>" is very unlikely to be what I + have made it. But no suggestion that I met with seemed to me + satisfactory or even plausible: and in this and a few similar + cases I have put down what suited the context. Occasionally also, + as in the Idyll here printed last—the one lately discovered + by Bergk, which I elucidated by the light of Fritzsche's + conjectures—I have availed myself of an opinion which + Professor Conington somewhere expresses, to the effect that, + where two interpretations are tenable, it is lawful to accept for + the purposes of translation the one you might reject as a + commentator. [Greek: tetootaiost] has I dare say nothing whatever + to do with 'quartan fever.'</p> + + <p>On one point, rather a minor one, I have ventured to dissent + from Professor Blackie and others: namely, in retaining the + Greek, instead of adopting the Roman, nomenclature. Professor + Blackie says<a name="FNanchorG"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_G"><sup>[G]</sup></a> that there are some men by whom + "it is esteemed a grave offence to call Jupiter Jupiter," which + begs the question: and that Jove "is much more musical" than + Zeus, which begs another. Granting (what might be questioned) + that <i>Zeus, Aphrodite</i>, and <i>Eros</i> are as absolutely + the same individuals with <i>Jupiter, Venus</i>, and <i>Cupid</i> + as <i>Odysseus</i> undoubtedly is with <i>Ulysses</i>—still + I cannot see why, in making a version of (say) Theocritus, one + should not use by way of preference those names by which he + invariably called them, and which are characteristic of him: why, + in turning a Greek author into English, we should begin by + turning all the proper names into Latin. Professor Blackie's + authoritative statement<a name="FNanchorH"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_H"><sup>[H]</sup></a> that "there are whole idylls in + Theocritus which would sound ridiculous in any other language + than that of Tam o' Shanter" I accept of course unhesitatingly, + and should like to see it acted upon by himself or any competent + person. But a translator is bound to interpret all as best he + may: and an attempt to write Tam o' Shanter's language by one who + was not Tam o' Shanter's countryman would, I fear, result in + something more ridiculous still.</p> + + <p>C.S.C.</p> + + <p>*** For Cometas, in Idyll V., read <i>Comatas</i>.</p><br> + + <p>FOOTNOTES:</p><a name="Footnote_A"></a><a href= + "#FNanchorA">[A]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Vol. I., pp. 413, 414.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_B"></a><a href="#FNanchorB">[B]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p><i>Ibid</i>., page 377, etc.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_C"></a><a href="#FNanchorC">[C]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Professor Kingsley.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_D"></a><a href="#FNanchorD">[D]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Preface to CONINGTON'S <i>Æneid</i>, page ix.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_E"></a><a href="#FNanchorE">[E]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p><i>Ibid</i>.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_F"></a><a href="#FNanchorF">[F]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Since writing the above lines I have had the advantage of + seeing Mr. Paley's <i>Theocritus</i>, which was not out when I + made my version.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_G"></a><a href="#FNanchorG">[G]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Preface, pp. xii., xiii.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_H"></a><a href="#FNanchorH">[H]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Vol. I., page 384.</p> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="CONTENTS"></a> + + <h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_I">IDYLL I. THE DEATH OF + DAPHNIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_II">IDYLL II. THE + SORCERESS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_III">IDYLL III. THE + SERENADE</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_IV">IDYLL IV. THE HERDSMAN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_V">IDYLL V. THE BATTLE OF THE + BARDS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VI">IDYLL VI. THE DRAWN + BATTLE</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VII">IDYLL VII. + HARVEST-HOME</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VIII">IDYLL VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF + DAPHNIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_IX">IDYLL IX. PASTORALS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_X">IDYLL X. THE TWO + WORKMEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XI">IDYLL XI. THE GIANT'S + WOOING</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XII">IDYLL XII. THE + COMRADES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIII">IDYLL XIII. HYLAS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIV">IDYLL XIV. THE LOVE OF + ÆSCHINES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XV">IDYLL XV. THE FESTIVAL OF + ADONIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVI">IDYLL XVI. THE VALUE OF + SONG</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVII">IDYLL XVII. THE PRAISE OF + PTOLEMY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVIII">IDYLL XVIII. THE BRIDAL OF + HELEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIX">IDYLL XIX. LOVE STEALING + HONEY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XX">IDYLL XX. TOWN AND + COUNTRY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXI">IDYLL XXI. THE + FISHERMEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXII">IDYLL XXII. THE SONS OF + LEDA</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIII">IDYLL XXIII. LOVE + AVENGED</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIV">IDYLL XXIV. THE INFANT + HERACLES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXV">IDYLL XXV. HERACLES THE LION + SLAYER</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVI">IDYLL XXVI. THE + BACCHANALS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVII">IDYLL XXVII. A COUNTRYMAN'S + WOOING</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVIII">IDYLL XXVIII. THE + DISTAFF</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIX">IDYLL XXIX. LOVES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXX">IDYLL XXX. THE DEATH OF + ADONIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXXI">IDYLL XXXI. LOVES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href= + "#FRAGMENT_PROM_THE_quotBERENICEquot">FRAGMENT FROM THE + "BERENICE"</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#EPIGRAMS_AND_EPITAPHS">EPIGRAMS AND + EPITAPHS</a>:—</p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#EI">I.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#II">II.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#III">III.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#IV">IV.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#V">V.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VI">VI.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VII">VII.—FOR A STATUE OF + ÆSCULAPIUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VIII">VIII.—ORTHO'S + EPITAPH</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#IX">IX.—EPITAPH OF + CLEONICUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#X">X.—FOR A STATUE OF THE + MUSES</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XI">XI.—EPITAPH OF + EUSTHENES</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XII">XII.—FOR A TRIPOD ERECTED BY + DAMOTELES TO BACCHUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIII">XIII.—FOR A STATUE OF + ANACREON</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIV">XIV.—EPITAPH OF + EURYMEDON</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XV">XV.—ANOTHER</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVI">XVI.—FOR A STATUE OF THE + HEAVENLY APHRODITE</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVII">XVII.—To EPICHARMUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVIII">XVIII.—EPITAPH OF CLEITA, + NURSE OF MEDEIUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIX">XIX.—TO ARCHILOCHUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XX">XX.—UNDER A STATUE OF + PEISANDER</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XXI">XXI.—EPITAPH OF + HIPPONAX</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XXII">XXII.—ON HIS OWN + BOOK</a></p> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_I"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL I.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Death of Daphnis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>THYRSIS. A GOATHERD.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>THYRSIS.</p> + + <p>Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes</p> + + <p>Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet</p> + + <p>Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone.</p> + + <p>Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat.</p> + + <p>Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid;</p> + + <p>And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams</p> + + <p>Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag.</p> + + <p>If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe,</p> + + <p>Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose</p> + + <p>The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYRSIS.</p> + + <p>Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here</p> + + <p>Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade,</p> + + <p>And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe</p> + + <p>At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour</p> + + <p>Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he;</p> + + <p>Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel.</p> + + <p>But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes;</p> + + <p>High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy:</p> + + <p>Then rest we in the shadow of the elm</p> + + <p>Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs.</p> + + <p>There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat,</p> + + <p>Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him</p> + + <p>Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first,</p> + + <p>To milk, ay thrice, a goat—she suckles twins,</p> + + <p>Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;—</p> + + <p>Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured,</p> + + <p>Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet</p> + + <p>0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs</p> + + <p>About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays</p> + + <p>Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts</p> + + <p>Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears</p> + + <p>A damsel ('tis a miracle of art)</p> + + <p>In robe and snood: and suitors at her side</p> + + <p>With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left,</p> + + <p>Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart.</p> + + <p>She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now</p> + + <p>Her chance regards on that: they, all for love</p> + + <p>Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost.</p> + + <p>Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands</p> + + <p>On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains</p> + + <p>Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils</p> + + <p>Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame</p> + + <p>Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck</p> + + <p>(In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell.</p> + + <p>Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends</p> + + <p>Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes;</p> + + <p>A boy sits on the rude fence watching them.</p> + + <p>Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes</p> + + <p>One ranging steals the ripest; one assails</p> + + <p>With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon</p> + + <p>Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile</p> + + <p>With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap,</p> + + <p>And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip,</p> + + <p>Little he cares, enamoured of his toy.</p> + + <p class="i2">The cup is hung all round with lissom + briar,</p> + + <p>Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight.</p> + + <p>It was a ferryman's of Calydon:</p> + + <p>A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese.</p> + + <p>Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still</p> + + <p>It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou,</p> + + <p>If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays.</p> + + <p>I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own</p> + + <p>In the dim land where all things are forgot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYSIS [<i>sings</i>].</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I.</p> + + <p>Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined?</p> + + <p>In fair Penëus' or in Pindus' glens?</p> + + <p>For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt,</p> + + <p>Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him;</p> + + <p>The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>The kine and oxen stood around his feet,</p> + + <p>The heifers and the calves wailed all for him.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>First from the mountain Hermes came, and said,</p> + + <p>"Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?"</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came;</p> + + <p>All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came</p> + + <p>And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid</p> + + <p>Foots it round every pool and every grove,</p> + + <p>(<i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song</i>)</p> + + <p>"O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee;</p> + + <p>Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called.</p> + + <p>With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids</p> + + <p>Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they:</p> + + <p class="i2">(<i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>):</p> + + <p>"With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh</p> + + <p>Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee."</p> + + <p>Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone</p> + + <p>His bitter portion, till the fatal end.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Came Aphroditè, smiles on her sweet face,</p> + + <p>False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake:</p> + + <p>"So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love!</p> + + <p>But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Then "Ruthless Aphroditè," Daphnis said,</p> + + <p>"Accursed Aphroditè, foe to man!</p> + + <p>Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set?</p> + + <p>Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say)</p> + + <p>And Aphroditè—to Anchises fly:</p> + + <p>There are oak-forests; here but galingale,</p> + + <p>And bees that make a music round the hives.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks</p> + + <p>And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain</p> + + <p>The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear!</p> + + <p>Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen</p> + + <p>Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell,</p> + + <p>And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine,</p> + + <p>Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags</p> + + <p>Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Mænalus,</p> + + <p>Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now</p> + + <p>Rhium and Helicè, and the mountain-cairn</p> + + <p>(That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact</p> + + <p>With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip:</p> + + <p>For surely I am torn from life by Love.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"From thicket now and thorn let violets spring,</p> + + <p>Now let white lilies drape the juniper,</p> + + <p>And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong:</p> + + <p>For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds,</p> + + <p>And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So spake he, and he never spake again.</p> + + <p>Fain Aphroditè would have raised his head;</p> + + <p>But all his thread was spun. So down the stream</p> + + <p>Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head</p> + + <p>Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved.</p> + + <p class="i2">Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk</p> + + <p>The one, and pour the other to the Muse.</p> + + <p>Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell!</p> + + <p>I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb</p> + + <p>Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus:</p> + + <p>For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song.</p> + + <p>Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells:</p> + + <p>The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well.</p> + + <p>Hither, Cissætha! Thou, go milk her! Kids,</p> + + <p>Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_II"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL II.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Sorceress. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms?</p> + + <p>Fetch all; with fiery wool the caldron crown;</p> + + <p>Let glamour win me back my false lord's heart!</p> + + <p>Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me,</p> + + <p>Nor made enquiry if I die or live,</p> + + <p>Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my door.</p> + + <p>Sure his swift fancy wanders otherwhere,</p> + + <p>The slave of Aphroditè and of Love.</p> + + <p>I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school</p> + + <p>At dawn, that I may see him and denounce</p> + + <p>His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms.</p> + + <p>So shine out fair, O moon! To thee I sing</p> + + <p>My soft low song: to thee and Hecatè</p> + + <p>The dweller in the shades, at whose approach</p> + + <p>E'en the dogs quake, as on she moves through blood</p> + + <p>And darkness and the barrows of the slain.</p> + + <p>All hail, dread Hecatè: companion me</p> + + <p>Unto the end, and work me witcheries</p> + + <p>Potent as Circè or Medea wrought,</p> + + <p>Or Perimedè of the golden hair!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>First we ignite the grain. Nay, pile it on:</p> + + <p>Where are thy wits flown, timorous Thestylis?</p> + + <p>Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou?</p> + + <p>Pile, and still say, 'This pile is of his bones.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Delphis racks me: I burn him in these bays.</p> + + <p>As, flame-enkindled, they lift up their voice,</p> + + <p>Blaze once, and not a trace is left behind:</p> + + <p>So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>E'en as I melt, not uninspired, the wax,</p> + + <p>May Mindian Delphis melt this hour with love:</p> + + <p>And, swiftly as this brazen wheel whirls round,</p> + + <p>May Aphroditè whirl him to my door.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Next burn the husks. Hell's adamantine floor</p> + + <p>And aught that else stands firm can Artemis move.</p> + + <p>Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town:</p> + + <p>The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sound the gongs.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Hushed are the voices of the winds and seas;</p> + + <p>But O not hushed the voice of my despair.</p> + + <p>He burns my being up, who left me here</p> + + <p>No wife, no maiden, in my misery.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, sweet mistress, thus:</p> + + <p>"What face soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot</p> + + <p>Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say)</p> + + <p>Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic, wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the weed</p> + + <p>That drives the mountain-colts and swift mares wild.</p> + + <p>Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise,</p> + + <p>Race from his burnished brethren home to me.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>He lost this tassel from his robe; which I</p> + + <p>Shred thus, and cast it on the raging flames.</p> + + <p>Ah baleful Love! why, like the marsh-born leech,</p> + + <p>Cling to my flesh, and drain my dark veins dry?</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>From a crushed eft tomorrow he shall drink</p> + + <p>Death! But now, Thestylis, take these herbs and smear</p> + + <p>That threshold o'er, whereto at heart I cling</p> + + <p>Still, still—albeit he thinks scorn of me—</p> + + <p>And spit, and say, ''Tis Delphis' bones I smear.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20">[<i>Exit Thestylis</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now, all alone, I'll weep a love whence sprung</p> + + <p>When born? Who wrought my sorrow? Anaxo came,</p> + + <p>Her basket in her hand, to Artemis' grove.</p> + + <p>Bound for the festival, troops of forest beasts</p> + + <p>Stood round, and in the midst a lioness.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Theucharidas' slave, my Thracian nurse now dead</p> + + <p>Then my near neighbour, prayed me and implored</p> + + <p>To see the pageant: I, the poor doomed thing,</p> + + <p>Went with her, trailing a fine silken train,</p> + + <p>And gathering round me Clearista's robe.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Now, the mid-highway reached by Lycon's farm,</p> + + <p>Delphis and Eudamippus passed me by.</p> + + <p>With beards as lustrous as the woodbine's gold</p> + + <p>And breasts more sheeny than thyself, O Moon,</p> + + <p>Fresh from the wrestler's glorious toil they came.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>I saw, I raved, smit (weakling) to my heart.</p> + + <p>My beauty withered, and I cared no more</p> + + <p>For all that pomp; and how I gained my home</p> + + <p>I know not: some strange fever wasted me.</p> + + <p>Ten nights and days I lay upon my bed.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>And wan became my flesh, as 't had been dyed,</p> + + <p>And all my hair streamed off, and there was left</p> + + <p>But bones and skin. Whose threshold crossed I not,</p> + + <p>Or missed what grandam's hut who dealt in charms?</p> + + <p>For no light thing was this, and time sped on.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>At last I spake the truth to that my maid:</p> + + <p>"Seek, an thou canst, some cure for my sore pain.</p> + + <p>Alas, I am all the Mindian's! But begone,</p> + + <p>And watch by Timagetus' wrestling-school:</p> + + <p>There doth he haunt, there soothly take his rest.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits';</p> + + <p>And bring him." So I spake: she went her way,</p> + + <p>And brought the lustrous-limbed one to my roof.</p> + + <p>And I, the instant I beheld him step</p> + + <p>Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door,</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>,)</p> + + <p>Became all cold like snow, and from my brow</p> + + <p>Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none,</p> + + <p>Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make</p> + + <p>That babbles to its mother in its dreams;</p> + + <p>But all my fair frame stiffened into wax.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down,</p> + + <p>And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said:</p> + + <p>"Thou hast gained on me, Simætha, (e'en as I</p> + + <p>Gained once on young Philinus in the race,)</p> + + <p>Bidding me hither ere I came unasked.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"For I had come, by Eros I had come,</p> + + <p>This night, with comrades twain or may-be more,</p> + + <p>The fruitage of the Wine-god in my robe,</p> + + <p>And, wound about my brow with ribands red,</p> + + <p>The silver leaves so dear to Heracles.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers</p> + + <p>High is my name for goodliness and speed:</p> + + <p>I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way.</p> + + <p>But had the door been barred, and I thrust out,</p> + + <p>With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love,</p> + + <p>Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out,</p> + + <p>A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames,</p> + + <p>And badst me hither. It is Love that lights</p> + + <p>A fire more fierce than his of Lipara;</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.)</p> + + <p>"Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower,</p> + + <p>The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I,</p> + + <p>A willing listener, sat, my hand in his,</p> + + <p>Among the cushions, and his cheek touched mine,</p> + + <p>Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed</p> + + <p>In soft low language. Need I prate to thee,</p> + + <p>Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did?</p> + + <p>Till yesterday he found no fault with me,</p> + + <p>Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came</p> + + <p>Philista's mother—hers who flutes to me—</p> + + <p>With her Melampo's; just when up the sky</p> + + <p>Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn:</p> + + <p>And divers tales she brought me, with the rest</p> + + <p>How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom:</p> + + <p>But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye</p> + + <p>He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled,</p> + + <p>To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers.</p> + + <p>Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true:</p> + + <p>For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll</p> + + <p>Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask:</p> + + <p>Now—'tis a fortnight since I saw his face.</p> + + <p>Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere?</p> + + <p>Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms.</p> + + <p>But let him try me more, and by the Fates</p> + + <p>He'll soon be knocking at the gates of hell.</p> + + <p>Spells of such power are in this chest of mine,</p> + + <p>Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds:</p> + + <p>As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil.</p> + + <p>Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell,</p> + + <p>That wait upon the car of noiseless Night.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_III"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL III.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Serenade. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats,</p> + + <p>Tityrus their guardian, browse along the fell.</p> + + <p>O Tityrus, as I love thee, feed my goats:</p> + + <p>And lead them to the spring, and, Tityrus, 'ware</p> + + <p>The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram.</p> + + <p class="i2">Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more</p> + + <p>Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock</p> + + <p>Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him?</p> + + <p>Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped</p> + + <p>Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon.</p> + + <p>See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree</p> + + <p>I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon.</p> + + <p>Ah witness my heart-anguish! Oh were I</p> + + <p>A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair,</p> + + <p>Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths</p> + + <p>Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now:</p> + + <p>Fell god, he drank the lioness's milk,</p> + + <p>In the wild woods his mother cradled him,</p> + + <p>Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone.</p> + + <p>O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart</p> + + <p>All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine!</p> + + <p>Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips,</p> + + <p>For there is sweetness in an empty kiss.</p> + + <p>Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown,</p> + + <p>The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee,</p> + + <p>Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers:</p> + + <p>Oh I am desperate—what betides me, what?—</p> + + <p>Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins</p> + + <p>And leap into yon waves, where on the watch</p> + + <p>For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death,</p> + + <p>That I have all but died will pleasure thee.</p> + + <p>That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?')</p> + + <p>The <i>Love-in-absence</i>, crushed, returned no + sound,</p> + + <p>But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist.</p> + + <p>I learned it of the sieve-divining crone</p> + + <p>Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday:</p> + + <p>'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her;</p> + + <p>She makes of none account her worshipper.'</p> + + <p class="i2">Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for + thee:</p> + + <p>Mermnon's lass covets them: dark she is of skin:</p> + + <p>But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me.</p> + + <p class="i2">She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye.</p> + + <p>I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing.</p> + + <p>She may look round: she is not adamant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed,</p> + + <p>Took apples in his hand and on he sped.</p> + + <p>Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this;</p> + + <p>She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray</p> + + <p>To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay</p> + + <p>In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare;</p> + + <p>Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Did not Adonis rouse to such excess</p> + + <p>Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness,</p> + + <p>(He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill)</p> + + <p>That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth + not:</p> + + <p>And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot!</p> + + <p>Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain</p> + + <p>Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no + more:</p> + + <p>E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves</p> + + <p>Rend me—may that be honey in thy mouth!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_IV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL IV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Herdsmen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>BATTUS. CORYDON.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee + say.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>No, Ægon: and he gave them me to tend while he's + away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to + see?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful + lord?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by + him?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>—So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes + a score.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven + next.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>—And by these bellowings his kine proclaim how sore + they're vexed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Poor kine! they've found their master a sorry knave + indeed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>They're poor enough, I grant you: they have not heart to + feed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Look at that heifer! sure there's naught, save bare bones, + left of her.</p> + + <p>Pray, does she browse on dewdrops, as doth the + grasshopper?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Not she, by heaven! She pastures now by Æsarus' + glades,</p> + + <p>And handfuls fair I pluck her there of young and green + grass-blades;</p> + + <p>Now bounds about Latymnus, that gathering-place of + shades.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>That bull again, the red one, my word but he is lean!</p> + + <p>I wish the Sybarite burghers aye may offer to the + queen</p> + + <p>Of heaven as pitiful a beast: those burghers are so + mean!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Yet to the Salt Lake's edges I drive him, I can swear;</p> + + <p>Up Physcus, up Neæthus' side—he lacks not + victual there,</p> + + <p>With dittany and endive and foxglove for his fare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Well, well! I pity Ægon. His cattle, go they + must</p> + + <p>To rack and ruin, all because vain-glory was his lust.</p> + + <p>The pipe that erst he fashioned is doubtless scored with + rust?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Nay, by the Nymphs! That pipe he left to me, the self-same + day</p> + + <p>He made for Pisa: I am too a minstrel in my way:</p> + + <p>Well the flute-part in '<i>Pyrrhus</i>' and in + '<i>Glauca</i>' can I play.</p> + + <p>I sing too '<i>Here's to Croton</i>' and '<i>Zacynthus O + 'tis fair</i>,'</p> + + <p>And '<i>Eastward to Lacinium</i>:'—the bruiser Milo + there</p> + + <p>His single self ate eighty loaves; there also did he + pull</p> + + <p>Down from its mountain-dwelling, by one hoof grasped, a + bull,</p> + + <p>And gave it Amaryllis: the maidens screamed with + fright;</p> + + <p>As for the owner of the bull he only laughed outright.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Sweet Amaryllis! thou alone, though dead, art + unforgot.</p> + + <p>Dearer than thou, whose light is quenched, my very goats + are not.</p> + + <p>Oh for the all-unkindly fate that's fallen to my lot!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Cheer up, brave lad! tomorrow may ease thee of thy + pain:</p> + + <p>Aye for the living are there hopes, past' hoping are the + slain:</p> + + <p>And now Zeus sends us sunshine, and now he sends us + rain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>I'm better. Beat those young ones off! E'en now their + teeth attack</p> + + <p>That olive's shoots, the graceless brutes! Back, with your + white face, back!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Back to thy hill, Cymætha! Great Pan, how deaf thou + art!</p> + + <p>I shall be with thee presently, and in the end thou'lt + smart.</p> + + <p>I warn thee, keep thy distance. Look, up she creeps + again!</p> + + <p>Oh were my hare-crook in nay hand, I'd give it to her + then!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>For heaven's sake, Corydon, look here! Just now a + bramble-spike</p> + + <p>Ran, there, into my instep—and oh how deep they + strike,</p> + + <p>Those lancewood-shafts! A murrain light on that calf, I + say!</p> + + <p>I got it gaping after her. Canst thou discern it, + pray?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ay, ay; and here I have it, safe in my finger-nails.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Eh! at how slight a matter how tall a warrior quails!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ne'er range the hill-crest, Battus, all sandal-less and + bare:</p> + + <p>Because the thistle and the thorn lift aye their plumed + heads there.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>—Say, Corydon, does that old man we wot of (tell me + please!)</p> + + <p>Still haunt the dark-browed little girl whom once he used + to tease?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ay my poor boy, that doth he: I saw them yesterday</p> + + <p>Down by the byre; and, trust me, loving enough were + they.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Well done, my veteran light-o'-love! In deeming thee mere + man,</p> + + <p>I wronged thy sire: some Satyr he, or an uncouth-limbed + Pan.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_V"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL V.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Battle of the Bards. + </center> + + <center> + <i>COMETAS. LACON. MORSON</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep + away:</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see</p> + + <p>Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and + how?</p> + + <p>Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee + now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, + say,</p> + + <p>What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked + away?</p> + + <p>Why, thy lord's self had ne'er a skin whereon his limbs to + lay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The skin that Crocylus gave me, a dark one streaked with + white,</p> + + <p>The day he slew his she-goat. Why, thou wert ill with + spite,</p> + + <p>Then, my false friend; and thou would'st end by beggaring + me quite.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Did Lacon, did Calæthis' son purloin a goatskin? + No,</p> + + <p>By Pan that haunts the sea-beach! Lad, if I served thee + so,</p> + + <p>Crazed may I drop from yon hill-top to Crathis' stream + below!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nor pipe of thine, good fellow—the Ladies of the + Lake</p> + + <p>So be still kind and good to me—did e'er Cometas + take.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Be Daphnis' woes my portion, should that my credence + win!</p> + + <p>Still, if thou list to stake a kid—that surely were + no sin—</p> + + <p>Come on, I'll sing it out with thee—until thou + givest in.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>'<i>The hog he braved Athene.</i>' As for the kid, 'tis + there:</p> + + <p>You stake a lamb against him—that fat one—if + you dare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Fox! were that fair for either? At shearing who'd + prefer</p> + + <p>Horsehair to wool? or when the goat stood handy, suffer + her</p> + + <p>To nurse her firstling, and himself go milk a blatant + cur?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The same who deemed his hornet's-buzz the true cicala's + note,</p> + + <p>And braved—like you—his better. And so + forsooth you vote</p> + + <p>My kid a trifle? Then come on, fellow! I stake the + goat.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Why be so hot? Art thou on fire? First prythee take thy + seat</p> + + <p>'Neath this wild woodland olive: thy tones will sound more + sweet.</p> + + <p>Here falls a cold rill drop by drop, and green + grass-blades uprear</p> + + <p>Their heads, and fallen leaves are thick, and locusts + prattle here.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Hot I am not; but hurt I am, and sorely, when I think</p> + + <p>That thou canst look me in the face and never bleach nor + blink—</p> + + <p>Me, thine own boyhood's tutor! Go, train the she-wolf's + brood:</p> + + <p>Train dogs—that they may rend thee! This, this is + gratitude!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>When learned I from thy practice or thy preaching aught + that's right,</p> + + <p>Thou puppet, thou misshapen lump of ugliness and + spite?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>When? When I beat thee, wailing sore: yon goats looked on + with glee,</p> + + <p>And bleated; and were dealt with e'en as I had dealt with + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Well, hunchback, shallow be thy grave as was thy judgment + then!</p> + + <p>But hither, hither! Thou'lt not dip in herdsman's lore + again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, here are oaks and galingale: the hum of housing + bees</p> + + <p>Makes the place pleasant, and the birds are piping in the + trees.</p> + + <p>And here are two cold streamlets; here deeper shadows + fall</p> + + <p>Than yon place owns, and look what cones drop from the + pinetree tall.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Come hither, and tread on lambswool that is soft as any + dream:</p> + + <p>Still more unsavoury than thyself to me thy goatskins + seem.</p> + + <p>Here will I plant a bowl of milk, our ladies' grace to + win;</p> + + <p>And one, as huge, beside it, sweet olive-oil therein.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Come hither, and trample dainty fern and poppy-blossom: + sleep</p> + + <p>On goatskins that are softer than thy fleeces piled three + deep.</p> + + <p>Here will I plant eight milkpails, great Pan's regard to + gain,</p> + + <p>Bound them eight cups: full honeycombs shall every cup + contain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Well! there essay thy woodcraft: thence fight me, never + budge</p> + + <p>From thine own oak; e'en have thy way. But who shall be + our judge?</p> + + <p>Oh, if Lycopas with his kine should chance this way to + trudge!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, I want no Lycopas. But hail yon woodsman, do:</p> + + <p>'Tis Morson—see! his arms are full of + bracken—there, by you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>We'll hail him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p class="i6">Ay, you hail him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p class="i8">Friend, 'twill not take thee long:</p> + + <p>We're striving which is master, we twain, in woodland + song:</p> + + <p>And thou, my good friend Morson, ne'er look with favouring + eyes</p> + + <p>On me; nor yet to yonder lad be fain to judge the + prize.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, by the Nymphs, sweet Morson, ne'er for Cometas' + sake</p> + + <p>Stretch thou a point; nor e'er let him undue advantage + take.</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas owns yon wethers; a Thurian is he:</p> + + <p>And here, my friend, Eumares' goats, of Sybaris, you may + see.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>And who asked thee, thou naughty knave, to whom belonged + these flocks,</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas, or (it might be) me? Eh, thou'rt a + chatter-box!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The simple truth, most worshipful, is all that I + allege:</p> + + <p>I'm not for boasting. But thy wit hath all too keen an + edge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Come sing, if singing's in thee—and may our friend + get back</p> + + <p>To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth + clack!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS. [<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the + Nine</p> + + <p>Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their + shrine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON. [<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear</p> + + <p>A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my + own,</p> + + <p>Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all + alone?'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with + cheese:</p> + + <p>Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed + leas.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he + stray</p> + + <p>By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming + way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my + flocks:</p> + + <p>How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining + locks!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree,</p> + + <p>The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and + still</p> + + <p>I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the + hill.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>A cushat I will presently procure and give to her</p> + + <p>Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Pooh! a soft fleece, to make a coat, I'll give the day I + shear</p> + + <p>My brindled ewe—(no hand but mine shall touch + it)—to my dear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Back, lambs, from that wild-olive: and be content to + browse</p> + + <p>Here on the shoulder of the hill, beneath the myrtle + boughs.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Run, (will ye?) Ball and Dogstar, down from that oak tree, + run:</p> + + <p>And feed where Spot is feeding, and catch the morning + sun.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>I have a bowl of cypress-wood: I have besides a cup:</p> + + <p>Praxiteles designed them: for <i>her</i> they're treasured + up.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I have a dog who throttles wolves: he loves the sheep, and + they</p> + + <p>Love him: I'll give him to my dear, to keep wild beasts at + bay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Ye locusts that o'erleap my fence, oh let my vines + escape</p> + + <p>Your clutches, I beseech you: the bloom is on the + grape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Ye crickets, mark how nettled our friend the goatherd + is!</p> + + <p>I ween, ye cost the reapers pangs as acute as his.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Those foxes with their bushy tails, I hate to see them + crawl</p> + + <p>Round Micon's homestead and purloin his grapes at + evenfall.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> hate to see the beetles that come warping on the + wind.</p> + + <p>And climb Philondas' trees, and leave never a fig + behind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Have you forgot that cudgelling I gave you? At each + stroke</p> + + <p>You grinned and twisted with a grace, and clung to yonder + oak.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>That I've forgot—but I have not, how once Eumares + tied</p> + + <p>You to that selfsame oak-trunk, and tanned your unclean + hide.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>There's some one ill—of heartburn. You note it, I + presume,</p> + + <p>Morson? Go quick, and fetch a squill from some old + beldam's tomb.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I think I'm stinging somebody, as Morson too + perceives—</p> + + <p>Go to the river and dig up a clump of sowbread-leaves.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>May Himera flow, not water, but milk: and may'st thou + blush,</p> + + <p>Crathis, with wine; and fruitage grow upon every rush.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>For me may Sybaris' fountain flow, pure honey: so that + you,</p> + + <p>My fair, may dip your pitcher each morn in honey-dew.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>My goats are fed on clover and goat's-delight: they + tread</p> + + <p>On lentisk leaves; or lie them down, ripe strawberries + o'er their head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>My sheep crop honeysuckle bloom, while all around them + blows</p> + + <p>In clusters rich the jasmine, as brave as any rose.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>I scorn my maid; for when she took my cushat, she did + not</p> + + <p>Draw with both hands my face to hers and kiss me on the + spot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I love my love, and hugely: for, when I gave my flute,</p> + + <p>I was rewarded with a kiss, a loving one to boot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Lacon, the nightingale should scarce be challenged by the + jay,</p> + + <p>Nor swan by hoopoe: but, poor boy, thou aye wert for a + fray.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MORSON.</p> + + <p>I bid the shepherd hold his peace. Cometas, unto you</p> + + <p>I, Morson, do adjudge the lamb. You'll first make offering + due</p> + + <p>Unto the nymphs: then savoury meat you'll send to Morson + too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>By Pan I will! Snort, all my herd of he-goats: I shall + now</p> + + <p>O'er Lacon, shepherd as he is, crow ye shall soon see + how.</p> + + <p>I've won, and I could leap sky-high! Ye also dance and + skip,</p> + + <p>My hornèd ewes: in Sybaris' fount to-morrow all + shall dip.</p> + + <p>Ho! you, sir, with the glossy coat and dangerous crest; + you dare</p> + + <p>Look at a ewe, till I have slain my lamb, and ill you'll + fare.</p> + + <p>What! is he at his tricks again? He is, and he will + get</p> + + <p>(Or my name's not Cometas) a proper pounding yet.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Drawn Battle. + </center> + + <center> + DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once</p> + + <p>Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen.</p> + + <p>One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard.</p> + + <p>And by a brookside on a summer noon</p> + + <p>The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led</p> + + <p>The song, for Daphnis was the challenger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit,</p> + + <p>And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme.</p> + + <p>Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye</p> + + <p>Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog:</p> + + <p>Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks,</p> + + <p>And, through the clear wave visible to her still,</p> + + <p>Careers along the gently babbling beach.</p> + + <p>Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen</p> + + <p>From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs.</p> + + <p>She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs</p> + + <p>In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed,</p> + + <p>Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win;</p> + + <p>For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAMOETAS.</p> + + <p>"I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind,</p> + + <p>By Pan, by this my one my precious eye</p> + + <p>That bounds my vision now and evermore!</p> + + <p>But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe,</p> + + <p>His and his children's, that he promised me!</p> + + <p>Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by,</p> + + <p>Pretend to woo another:—and she hears</p> + + <p>(Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy;</p> + + <p>And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung,</p> + + <p>Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock.</p> + + <p>'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her;</p> + + <p>For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay</p> + + <p>His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note</p> + + <p>Mayhap, and message send on message soon:</p> + + <p>But I will bar my door until she swear</p> + + <p>To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed.</p> + + <p>And I am less unlovely than men say.</p> + + <p>I looked into the mere (the mere was calm),</p> + + <p>And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed</p> + + <p>My solitary eye, and, half-revealed,</p> + + <p>My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl.</p> + + <p>Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe:</p> + + <p>That learned I of the hag Cottytaris—her</p> + + <p>Who fluted lately with Hippocoön's mowers."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly:</p> + + <p>One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute.</p> + + <p>Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe</p> + + <p>The younglings bounded in the soft green grass:</p> + + <p>And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Harvest-Home. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once on a time did Eucritus and I</p> + + <p>(With us Amyntas) to the riverside</p> + + <p>Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons</p> + + <p>Were that day busy with the harvest-home,</p> + + <p>Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung</p> + + <p>(If aught thou holdest by the good old names)</p> + + <p>By Clytia from great Chalcon—him who erst</p> + + <p>Planted one stalwart knee against the rock,</p> + + <p>And lo, beneath his foot Burinè's rill</p> + + <p>Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm</p> + + <p>Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed</p> + + <p>By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now,</p> + + <p>Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas:</p> + + <p>When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near</p> + + <p>A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas.</p> + + <p>The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell</p> + + <p>So much: for every inch a herdsman he.</p> + + <p>Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide</p> + + <p>Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired,</p> + + <p>That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped</p> + + <p>A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff</p> + + <p>A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore.</p> + + <p>Soon with a quiet smile he spoke—his eye</p> + + <p>Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip:</p> + + <p>"And whither ploddest thou thy weary way</p> + + <p>Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas?</p> + + <p>For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall,</p> + + <p>The crested lark folds now his wandering wing.</p> + + <p>Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board?</p> + + <p>Or townward to the treading of the grape?</p> + + <p>For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet</p> + + <p>The pavement-stones ring out right merrily."</p> + + <p>Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none</p> + + <p>Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match</p> + + <p>At piping: and my soul is glad thereat.</p> + + <p>Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee.</p> + + <p>Now look, this road holds holiday to-day:</p> + + <p>For banded brethren solemnise a feast</p> + + <p>To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her</p> + + <p>For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand</p> + + <p>Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors.</p> + + <p>So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine:</p> + + <p>Try we our woodcraft—each may learn from each.</p> + + <p>I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song;</p> + + <p>All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not,</p> + + <p>Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet</p> + + <p>(I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard</p> + + <p>Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song.</p> + + <p>They are as cicadas challenged by a frog."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing + light</p> + + <p>He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed</p> + + <p>A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand!</p> + + <p>I hate your builders who would rear a house</p> + + <p>High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle:</p> + + <p>I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry</p> + + <p>Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard.</p> + + <p>But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas,</p> + + <p>Our woodland music: and for my part I—</p> + + <p>List, comrade, if you like the simple air</p> + + <p>I forged among the uplands yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the + main</p> + + <p>To Mitylenè—though the southern blast</p> + + <p>Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids,</p> + + <p>Or low above the verge Orion stand—</p> + + <p>If from Love's furnace she will rescue me,</p> + + <p>For Lycidas is parched with hot desire.</p> + + <p>Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds,</p> + + <p>Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off</p> + + <p>Flutters the seaweed—halcyons, of all birds</p> + + <p>Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear</p> + + <p>By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile</p> + + <p>On her to Mitylenè voyaging,</p> + + <p>And in fair harbour may she ride at last.</p> + + <p>I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill</p> + + <p>Or rose or simple violet on my brow,</p> + + <p>Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask</p> + + <p>Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans,</p> + + <p>And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel</p> + + <p>And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled</p> + + <p>My bed of rushes, where in royal ease</p> + + <p>I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain</p> + + <p>With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs.</p> + + <p>I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both,</p> + + <p>This from Acharnæ, from Lycopè that;</p> + + <p>And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing</p> + + <p>How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid;</p> + + <p>And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks</p> + + <p>(Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal)</p> + + <p>Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away</p> + + <p>Like snow on Athos, or on Hæmus high,</p> + + <p>Or Rhodopè, or utmost Caucasus.</p> + + <p>And he shall sing me how the big chest held</p> + + <p>(All through the maniac malice of his lord)</p> + + <p>A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees,</p> + + <p>Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell,</p> + + <p>Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse</p> + + <p>Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song.</p> + + <p>Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine!</p> + + <p>Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees</p> + + <p>Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year:</p> + + <p>And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick</p> + + <p>In my day! I had led thy pretty goats</p> + + <p>About the hill-side, listening to thy voice:</p> + + <p>While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine,</p> + + <p>Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I.</p> + + <p>"I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells,</p> + + <p>Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs,</p> + + <p>Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus.</p> + + <p>But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first:</p> + + <p>Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless + I</p> + + <p>Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring.</p> + + <p>But my best friend Aratus inly pines</p> + + <p>For one who loves him not. Aristis saw—</p> + + <p>(A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay</p> + + <p>Shrinèd Apollo's self would scarce + disdain)—</p> + + <p>How love had scorched Aratus to the bone.</p> + + <p>O Pan, who hauntest Homolè's fair champaign,</p> + + <p>Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be,</p> + + <p>Unbid to his sweet arms—so, gracious Pan,</p> + + <p>May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed</p> + + <p>With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er</p> + + <p>They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer</p> + + <p>Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep,</p> + + <p>Dinted and sore all over from their claws!</p> + + <p>Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills</p> + + <p>By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist,</p> + + <p>The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range</p> + + <p>With the far Æthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks</p> + + <p>Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves,</p> + + <p>Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes</p> + + <p>By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill,</p> + + <p>Or fair Dionè's rocky pedestal,</p> + + <p>And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike</p> + + <p>The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend.</p> + + <p>And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear?</p> + + <p>The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.'</p> + + <p>We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more,</p> + + <p>Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock</p> + + <p>Crow to wake others up to numb despair!</p> + + <p>Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave:</p> + + <p>While we make ease our study, and secure</p> + + <p>Some witch, to charm all evil from our door."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before,</p> + + <p>Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,'</p> + + <p>And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while,</p> + + <p>Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I,</p> + + <p>And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay</p> + + <p>Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed</p> + + <p>And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we?</p> + + <p>A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead;</p> + + <p>Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on</p> + + <p>From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs</p> + + <p>The sweet cicada chirped laboriously.</p> + + <p>Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away</p> + + <p>The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark</p> + + <p>Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan,</p> + + <p>And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee.</p> + + <p>All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all:</p> + + <p>Pears at our feet, and apples at our side</p> + + <p>Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground</p> + + <p>Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed</p> + + <p>From the cask's head the crust of four long years.</p> + + <p>Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks,</p> + + <p>Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er</p> + + <p>Set before Heracles a cup so brave</p> + + <p>In Pholus' cavern—did as nectarous draughts</p> + + <p>Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand</p> + + <p>Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong,</p> + + <p>Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:—</p> + + <p>As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us</p> + + <p>All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home?</p> + + <p>Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again</p> + + <p>Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles,</p> + + <p>Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Triumph of Daphnis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A GOATHERD</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as legend + tells,</p> + + <p>Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the + fells.</p> + + <p>Both chins were gilt with coming beards: both lads could + sing and play:</p> + + <p>Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to + say:—</p> + + <p>"Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing + kine?</p> + + <p>I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than + thine."</p> + + <p>Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made + reply:</p> + + <p>"O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and + high;</p> + + <p>But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing as + I."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>But what, for champions such as we, would, seem a fitting + prize?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother's self in + size.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>A lamb I'll venture never: for aye at close of day</p> + + <p>Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are + they.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Then what shall be the victor's fee? What wager wilt thou + lay?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>A pipe discoursing through nine mouths I made, full fair + to view;</p> + + <p>The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge + true.</p> + + <p>I'll risk it: risk my father's own is more than I dare + do.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>A pipe discoursing through nine mouths, and fair, hath + Daphnis too:</p> + + <p>The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge + true.</p> + + <p>But yesterday I made it: this finger feels the pain</p> + + <p>Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in + twain.</p> + + <p>But who shall be our umpire? who listen to our strain?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>Suppose we hail yon goatherd; him at whose horned herd + now</p> + + <p>The dog is barking—yonder dog with white upon his + brow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, + and up came he;</p> + + <p>Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would + be.</p> + + <p>To shrill Menalcas' lot it fell to start the woodland + lay:</p> + + <p>Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the + way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Rivers and vales, a glorious birth! Oh if Menalcas + e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears:</p> + + <p>Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young + Daphnis fare</p> + + <p class="i2">No worse, should he stray hither with his + steers."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Pastures and rills, a bounteous race! If Daphnis sang you + e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">Such songs as ne'er from nightingale have + flowed;</p> + + <p>Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas + share</p> + + <p class="i2">Like boon, should e'er he wend along this + road."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"'Tis spring, 'tis greenness everywhere; with milk the + udders teem,</p> + + <p class="i2">And all things that are young have life + anew,</p> + + <p>Where my sweet maiden wanders: but parched and withered + seem,</p> + + <p class="i2">When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are + thronged with</p> + + <p class="i4">bees,</p> + + <p class="i2">Rises the oak beyond his natural growth,</p> + + <p>Where falls my darling's footstep: but hungriness shall + seize,</p> + + <p class="i2">When she departeth, herd and herdsman + both."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at + thy side,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where winds the brook by woodlands + myriad-deep:</p> + + <p>There is <i>her</i> haunt. Go, Stump-horn, tell her how + Proteus plied</p> + + <p class="i2">(A god) the shepherd's trade, with seals for + sheep."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king;</p> + + <p class="i2">I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze;</p> + + <p>But 'neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, + and fling</p> + + <p class="i2">(Still clasping <i>her</i>) my carol o'er the + seas."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Storms are the fruit-tree's bane; the brook's, a summer + hot and dry;</p> + + <p class="i2">The stag's a woven net, a gin the dove's;</p> + + <p>Mankind's, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere + I:</p> + + <p class="i2">Zeus! Father! hadst not thou thy + lady-loves?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes + rehearst:</p> + + <p>Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas + first:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers + spare!</p> + + <p>Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care!</p> + + <p>What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep? It ill befits a + hound,</p> + + <p>Tending a boyish master's flock, to slumber + over-sound.</p> + + <p>And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your + fill:</p> + + <p>So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding + still.</p> + + <p>So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder + fail:</p> + + <p>Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill + my pail."</p> + + <p class="i2">Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a + nightingale:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow</p> + + <p>Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, "How fair + art thou!"</p> + + <p>I vow that not one bitter word in answer did I say,</p> + + <p>But, looking ever on the ground, went silently my way.</p> + + <p>The heifer's voice, the heifer's breath, are passing sweet + to me;</p> + + <p>And sweet is sleep by summer-brooks upon the breezy + lea:</p> + + <p>As acorns are the green oak's pride, apples the + apple-bough's;</p> + + <p>So the cow glorieth in her calf, the cowherd in his + cows."</p> + + <p>Thus the two lads; then spoke the third, sitting his goats + among:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>"O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly + sung;</p> + + <p>Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue.</p> + + <p>Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And should there be + some notes</p> + + <p>That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my + goats,</p> + + <p>I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath + none:</p> + + <p>Day after day she'll fill the can, until the milk + o'errun."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and + clapped his hands for</p> + + <p class="i6">glee!</p> + + <p>A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as + merrily.</p> + + <p>And how the other inly burned, struck down by his + disgrace!</p> + + <p>A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a + face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the + country side:</p> + + <p>And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his + bride.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_IX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL IX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Pastorals. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A SHEPHERD.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>SHEPHERD.</p> + + <p>A song from Daphnis! Open he the lay,</p> + + <p>He open: and Menalcas follow next:</p> + + <p>While the calves suck, and with the barren kine</p> + + <p>The young bulls graze, or roam knee-deep in leaves,</p> + + <p>And ne'er play truant. But a song from thee,</p> + + <p>Daphnis—anon Menalcas will reply.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Sweet is the chorus of the calves and kine,</p> + + <p class="i2">And sweet the herdsman's pipe. But none may + vie</p> + + <p>With Daphnis; and a rush-strown bed is mine</p> + + <p class="i2">Near a cool rill, where carpeted I lie</p> + + <p class="i2">On fair white goatskins. From a hill-top + high</p> + + <p>The westwind swept me down the herd entire,</p> + + <p class="i2">Cropping the strawberries: whence it comes that + I</p> + + <p class="i2">No more heed summer, with his breath of + fire,</p> + + <p>Than lovers heed the words of mother and of sire.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thus Daphnis: and Menalcas answered thus:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>O Ætna, mother mine! A grotto fair,</p> + + <p class="i2">Scooped in the rocks, have I: and there I + keep</p> + + <p>All that in dreams men picture! Treasured there</p> + + <p class="i2">Are multitudes of she-goats and of sheep,</p> + + <p class="i2">Swathed in whose wool from top to toe I + sleep.</p> + + <p>The fire that boils my pot, with oak or beech</p> + + <p class="i2">Is piled—dry beech-logs when the snow + lies deep;</p> + + <p class="i2">And storm and sunshine, I disdain them each</p> + + <p>As toothless sires a nut, when broth is in their + reach.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I clapped applause, and straight produced my + gifts:</p> + + <p class="i2">A staff for Daphnis—'twas the + handiwork</p> + + <p class="i2">Of nature, in my father's acres grown:</p> + + <p class="i2">Yet might a turner find no fault therewith.</p> + + <p class="i2">I gave his mate a goodly spiral-shell:</p> + + <p class="i2">We stalked its inmate on the Icarian rocks</p> + + <p class="i2">And ate him, parted fivefold among five.</p> + + <p>He blew forthwith the trumpet on his shell.</p> + + <p class="i2">Tell, woodland Muse—and then + farewell—what song</p> + + <p class="i2">I, the chance-comer, sang before those + twain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>SHEPHERD.</p> + + <p class="i2">Ne'er let a falsehood scarify my tongue!</p> + + <p class="i4">Crickets with crickets, ants with ants + agree,</p> + + <p class="i2">And hawks with hawks: and music sweetly + sung,</p> + + <p class="i4">Beyond all else, is grateful unto me.</p> + + <p class="i4">Filled aye with music may my dwelling be!</p> + + <p class="i2">Not slumber, not the bursting forth of + Spring</p> + + <p class="i4">So charms me, nor the flowers that tempt the + bee,</p> + + <p class="i2">As those sweet Sisters. He, on whom they + fling</p> + + <p>One gracious glance, is proof to Circè's + blandishing.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_X"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL X.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Two Workmen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>MILO. BATTUS.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>What now, poor o'erworked drudge, is on thy mind?</p> + + <p class="i3">No more in even swathe thou layest the + corn:</p> + + <p>Thy fellow-reapers leave thee far behind,</p> + + <p class="i3">As flocks a ewe that's footsore from a + thorn.</p> + + <p>By noon and midday what will be thy plight</p> + + <p>If now, so soon, thy sickle fails to bite?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Hewn from hard rocks, untired at set of sun,</p> + + <p>Milo, didst ne'er regret some absent one?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Not I. What time have workers for regret?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Hath love ne'er kept thee from thy slumbers yet?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Nay, heaven forbid! If once the cat taste cream!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Milo, these ten days love hath been my dream.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>You drain your wine, while vinegar's scarce with me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>—Hence since last spring untrimmed my borders + be.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>And what lass flouts thee?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">She whom we heard play</p> + + <p>Amongst Hippocoön's reapers yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Your sins have found you out—you're e'en served + right:</p> + + <p>You'll clasp a corn-crake in your arms all night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>You laugh: but headstrong Love is blind no less</p> + + <p>Than Plutus: talking big is foolishness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>I talk not big. But lay the corn-ears low</p> + + <p>And trill the while some love-song—easier so</p> + + <p>Will seem your toil: you used to sing, I know.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Maids of Pieria, of my slim lass sing!</p> + + <p>One touch of yours ennobles everything.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i8">[<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Fairy Bombyca! thee do men report</p> + + <p class="i2">Lean, dusk, a gipsy: I alone nut-brown.</p> + + <p>Violets and pencilled hyacinths are swart,</p> + + <p class="i2">Yet first of flowers they're chosen for a + crown.</p> + + <p>As goats pursue the clover, wolves the goat,</p> + + <p>And cranes the ploughman, upon thee I dote.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Had I but Croesus' wealth, we twain should stand</p> + + <p class="i2">Gold-sculptured in Love's temple; thou, thy + lyre</p> + + <p>(Ay or a rose or apple) in thy hand,</p> + + <p class="i2">I in my brave new shoon and dance-attire.</p> + + <p>Fairy Bombyca! twinkling dice thy feet,</p> + + <p>Poppies thy lips, thy ways none knows how sweet!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Who dreamed what subtle strains our bumpkin wrought?</p> + + <p class="i2">How shone the artist in each measured + verse!</p> + + <p>Fie on the beard that I have grown for naught!</p> + + <p class="i2">Mark, lad, these lines by glorious + Lytierse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i8">[<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p class="i2">O rich in fruit and cornblade: be this + field</p> + + <p class="i2">Tilled well, Demeter, and fair fruitage + yield!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Bind the sheaves, reapers: lest one, passing, + say—</p> + + <p class="i2">'A fig for these, they're never worth their + pay.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Let the mown swathes look northward, ye who + mow,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or westward—for the ears grow fattest + so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Avoid a noontide nap, ye threshing men:</p> + + <p class="i2">The chaff flies thickest from the corn-ears + then.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Wake when the lark wakes; when he slumbers, + close</p> + + <p class="i2">Your work, ye reapers: and at noontide + doze.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Boys, the frogs' life for me! They need not + him</p> + + <p class="i2">Who fills the flagon, for in drink they + swim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Better boil herbs, thou toiler after gain,</p> + + <p class="i2">Than, splitting cummin, split thy hand in + twain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Strains such as these, I trow, befit them well</p> + + <p class="i2">Who toil and moil when noon is at its + height:</p> + + <p>Thy meagre love-tale, bumpkin, though shouldst tell</p> + + <p class="i2">Thy grandam as she wakes up ere 'tis light.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Giant's Wooing + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love,</p> + + <p>Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one;</p> + + <p>And this is light and pleasant to a man,</p> + + <p>Yet hard withal to compass—minstrelsy.</p> + + <p>As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech,</p> + + <p>And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine.</p> + + <p>'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease,</p> + + <p>Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen</p> + + <p>On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph:</p> + + <p>No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer,</p> + + <p>But a fell madman, blind to all but love.</p> + + <p>Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep</p> + + <p>Unbid: while he upon the windy beach,</p> + + <p>Singing his Galatea, sat and pined</p> + + <p>From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart:</p> + + <p>Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there.</p> + + <p>Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down</p> + + <p>On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and + sang:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"White Galatea, why disdain thy love?</p> + + <p>White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb,</p> + + <p>Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes!</p> + + <p>If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large;</p> + + <p>If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone,</p> + + <p>Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near.</p> + + <p>I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since,</p> + + <p>To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell,</p> + + <p>Thou and my mother, piloted by me.</p> + + <p>I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth</p> + + <p>For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee.</p> + + <p>I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy:</p> + + <p>Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans</p> + + <p>From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye</p> + + <p>Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip.</p> + + <p>Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep</p> + + <p>That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide:</p> + + <p>In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still</p> + + <p>Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows.</p> + + <p>Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet,</p> + + <p>Singing our loves—ours, honey, thine and + mine—</p> + + <p>At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven</p> + + <p>(Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee.</p> + + <p>Oh come to me—thou shalt not rue the day—</p> + + <p>And let the mad seas beat against the shore!</p> + + <p>'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night:</p> + + <p>Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun,</p> + + <p>And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there:</p> + + <p>And a cold spring that pine-clad Ætna flings</p> + + <p>Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods!</p> + + <p>Who would not change for this the ocean-waves?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken + logs</p> + + <p>Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire.</p> + + <p>Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye,</p> + + <p>Mine only eye wherein is my delight.</p> + + <p>Oh why was I not born a finny thing,</p> + + <p>To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand,</p> + + <p>Denied thy lips—and bring thee lilies white</p> + + <p>And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom!</p> + + <p>Nay—summer hath his flowers and autumn his;</p> + + <p>I could not bring all these the selfsame day.</p> + + <p>Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road,</p> + + <p>Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim,</p> + + <p>That haply I may learn what bliss ye find</p> + + <p>In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come</p> + + <p>Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget</p> + + <p>(As I do, sitting here) to get thee home:</p> + + <p>And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth,</p> + + <p>And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"The blame's my mother's; she is false to + me;</p> + + <p>Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake,</p> + + <p>Though day by day she sees me pine and pine.</p> + + <p>I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet</p> + + <p>To anguish her—as I am anguished now."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy + wits?</p> + + <p>Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs</p> + + <p>To feed thy lambkins—'twere the shrewder part.</p> + + <p>Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe:</p> + + <p>The world hath Galateas fairer yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"—Many a fair damsel bids me sport with + her</p> + + <p>The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear.</p> + + <p>On land at least I still am somebody."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus did the Giant feed his love on song,</p> + + <p>And gained more ease than may be bought with gold.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XII.</h2> + + <center> + The Comrades + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Thou art come, lad, come! Scarce thrice hath dusk to + day</p> + + <p>Given place—but lovers in an hour grow gray.</p> + + <p>As spring's more sweet than winter, grapes than + thorns,</p> + + <p>The ewe's fleece richer than her latest-born's;</p> + + <p>As young girls' charms the thrice-wed wife's outshine,</p> + + <p>As fawns are lither than the ungainly kine,</p> + + <p>Or as the nightingale's clear notes outvie</p> + + <p>The mingled music of all birds that fly;</p> + + <p>So at thy coming passing glad was I.</p> + + <p>I ran to greet thee e'en as pilgrims run</p> + + <p>To beechen shadows from the scorching sun:</p> + + <p>Oh if on us accordant Loves would breathe,</p> + + <p>And our two names to future years bequeath!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">'These twain'—let men say—'lived in + olden days.</p> + + <p>This was a <i>yokel</i> (in their country-phrase),</p> + + <p>That was his <i>mate</i> (so talked these simple + folk):</p> + + <p>And lovingly they bore a mutual yoke.</p> + + <p>The hearts of men were made of sterling gold,</p> + + <p>When troth met troth, in those brave days of old,'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Zeus, O gods who age not nor decay!</p> + + <p>Let e'en two hundred ages roll away,</p> + + <p>But at the last these tidings let me learn,</p> + + <p>Borne o'er the fatal pool whence none return:—</p> + + <p>"By every tongue thy constancy is sung,</p> + + <p>Thine and thy favourite's—chiefly by the young."</p> + + <p>But lo, the future is in heaven's high hand:</p> + + <p>Meanwhile thy graces all my praise demand,</p> + + <p>Not false lip-praise, not idly bubbling froth—</p> + + <p>For though thy wrath be kindled, e'en thy wrath</p> + + <p>Hath no sting in it: doubly I am caressed,</p> + + <p>And go my way repaid with interest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Oarsmen of Megara, ruled by Nisus erst!</p> + + <p>Yours be all bliss, because ye honoured first</p> + + <p>That true child-lover, Attic Diocles.</p> + + <p>Around his gravestone with the first spring-breeze</p> + + <p>Flock the bairns all, to win the kissing-prize:</p> + + <p>And whoso sweetliest lip to lip applies</p> + + <p>Goes crown-clad home to its mother. Blest is he</p> + + <p>Who in such strife is named the referee:</p> + + <p>To brightfaced Ganymede full oft he'll cry</p> + + <p>To lend his lip the potencies that lie</p> + + <p>Within that stone with which the usurers</p> + + <p>Detect base metal, and which never errs.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Hylas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Not for us only, Nicias, (vain the dream,)</p> + + <p class="i2">Sprung from what god soe'er, was Eros born:</p> + + <p>Not to us only grace doth graceful seem,</p> + + <p class="i2">Frail things who wot not of the coming + morn.</p> + + <p>No—for Amphitryon's iron-hearted son,</p> + + <p>Who braved the lion, was the slave of one:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A fair curled creature, Hylas was his name.</p> + + <p class="i2">He taught him, as a father might his child,</p> + + <p>All songs whereby himself had risen to fame;</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor ever from his side would be beguiled</p> + + <p>When noon was high, nor when white steeds convey</p> + + <p>Back to heaven's gates the chariot of the day,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Nor when the hen's shrill brood becomes aware</p> + + <p class="i2">Of bed-time, as the mother's flapping wings</p> + + <p>Shadow the dust-browned beam. 'Twas all his care</p> + + <p class="i2">To shape unto his own imaginings</p> + + <p>And to the harness train his favourite youth,</p> + + <p>Till he became a man in very truth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Meanwhile, when kingly Jason steered in quest</p> + + <p class="i2">Of the Gold Fleece, and chieftains at his + side</p> + + <p>Chosen from all cities, proffering each her best,</p> + + <p class="i2">To rich Iolchos came that warrior tried,</p> + + <p>And joined him unto trim-built Argo's crew;</p> + + <p>And with Alcmena's son came Hylas too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Through the great gulf shot Argo like a bird—</p> + + <p class="i2">And by-and-bye reached Phasis, ne'er + o'erta'en</p> + + <p>By those in-rushing rocks, that have not stirred</p> + + <p class="i2">Since then, but bask, twin monsters, on the + main.</p> + + <p>But now, when waned the spring, and lambs were fed</p> + + <p>In far-off fields, and Pleiads gleamed overhead,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That cream and flower of knighthood looked to sail.</p> + + <p class="i2">They came, within broad Argo safely stowed,</p> + + <p>(When for three days had blown the southern gale)</p> + + <p class="i2">To Hellespont, and in Propontis rode</p> + + <p>At anchor, where Cianian oxen now</p> + + <p>Broaden the furrows with the busy plough.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They leapt ashore, and, keeping rank, prepared</p> + + <p class="i2">Their evening meal: a grassy meadow spread</p> + + <p>Before their eyes, and many a warrior shared</p> + + <p class="i2">(Thanks to its verdurous stores) one lowly + bed.</p> + + <p>And while they cut tall marigolds from their stem</p> + + <p>And sworded bulrush, Hylas slipt from them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Water the fair lad wont to seek and bring</p> + + <p class="i2">To Heracles and stalwart Telamon,</p> + + <p>(The comrades aye partook each other's fare,)</p> + + <p class="i2">Bearing a brazen pitcher. And anon,</p> + + <p>Where the ground dipt, a fountain he espied,</p> + + <p>And rushes growing green about its side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There rose the sea-blue swallow-wort, and there</p> + + <p class="i2">The pale-hued maidenhair, with parsley + green</p> + + <p>And vagrant marsh-flowers; and a revel rare</p> + + <p class="i2">In the pool's midst the water-nymphs were + seen</p> + + <p>To hold, those maidens of unslumbrous eyes</p> + + <p>Whom the belated peasant sees and flies.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And fast did Malis and Eunica cling,</p> + + <p class="i2">And young Nychea with her April face,</p> + + <p>To the lad's hand, as stooping o'er the spring</p> + + <p class="i2">He dipt his pitcher. For the young Greek's + grace</p> + + <p>Made their soft senses reel; and down he fell,</p> + + <p>All of a sudden, into that black well.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So drops a red star suddenly from sky</p> + + <p class="i2">To sea—and quoth some sailor to his + mate:</p> + + <p>"Up with the tackle, boy! the breeze is high."</p> + + <p class="i2">Him the nymphs pillowed, all disconsolate,</p> + + <p>On their sweet laps, and with soft words beguiled;</p> + + <p>But Heracles was troubled for the child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Forth went he; Scythian-wise his bow he bore</p> + + <p class="i2">And the great club that never quits his + side;</p> + + <p>And thrice called 'Hylas'—ne'er came lustier + roar</p> + + <p class="i2">From that deep chest. Thrice Hylas heard and + tried</p> + + <p>To answer, but in tones you scarce might hear;</p> + + <p>The water made them distant though so near.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And as a lion, when he hears the bleat</p> + + <p class="i2">Of fawns among the mountains far away,</p> + + <p>A murderous lion, and with hurrying feet</p> + + <p class="i2">Bounds from his lair to his predestined + prey:</p> + + <p>So plunged the strong man in the untrodden + brake—</p> + + <p>(Lovers are maniacs)—for his darling's sake.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He scoured far fields—what hill or oaken glen</p> + + <p class="i2">Remembers not that pilgrimage of pain?</p> + + <p>His troth to Jason was forgotten then.</p> + + <p class="i2">Long time the good ship tarried for those + twain</p> + + <p>With hoisted sails; night came and still they cleared</p> + + <p>The hatches, but no Heracles appeared.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>On he was wandering, reckless where he trod,</p> + + <p class="i2">So mad a passion on his vitals preyed:</p> + + <p>While Hylas had become a blessed god.</p> + + <p class="i2">But the crew cursed the runaway who had + stayed</p> + + <p>Sixty good oars, and left him there to reach</p> + + <p>Afoot bleak Phasis and the Colchian beach.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Love of Æschines. + </center> + + <center> + <i>THYONICHUS. ÆSCHINES.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>Hail, sir Thyonichus.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i12">Æschines, to you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>I have missed thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">Missed me! Why what ails him now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>My friend, I am ill at ease.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i12">Then this explains</p> + + <p>Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache</p> + + <p>And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw,</p> + + <p>A wan Pythagorean, yesterday.</p> + + <p>He said he came from Athens: shoes he had none:</p> + + <p>He pined, I'll warrant,—for a quartern loaf.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>Sir, you will joke—But I've been outraged, sore,</p> + + <p>And by Cynisca. I shall go stark mad</p> + + <p>Ere you suspect—a hair would turn the scale.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p>Such thou wert always, Æschines my friend.</p> + + <p>In lazy mood or trenchant, at thy whim</p> + + <p>The world must wag. But what's thy grievance now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>That Argive, Apis the Thessalian Knight,</p> + + <p>Myself, and gallant Cleonicus, supped</p> + + <p>Within my grounds. Two pullets I had slain,</p> + + <p>And a prime pig: and broached my Biblian wine;</p> + + <p>'Twas four years old, but fragrant as when new.</p> + + <p>Truffles were served to us: and the drink was good.</p> + + <p>Well, we got on, and each must drain a cup</p> + + <p>To whom he fancied; only each must name.</p> + + <p>We named, and took our liquor as ordained;</p> + + <p>But she sate silent—this before my face.</p> + + <p>Fancy my feelings! "Wilt not speak? Hast seen</p> + + <p>A wolf?" some wag said. "Shrewdly guessed," quoth she,</p> + + <p>And blushed—her blushes might have fired a + torch.</p> + + <p>A wolf <i>had</i> charmed her: Wolf her neighbour's + son,</p> + + <p>Goodly and tall, and fair in divers eyes:</p> + + <p>For his illustrious sake it was she pined.</p> + + <p>This had been breathed, just idly, in my ear:</p> + + <p>Shame on my beard, I ne'er pursued the hint.</p> + + <p>Well, when we four were deep amid our cups,</p> + + <p>The Knight must sing 'The Wolf' (a local song)</p> + + <p>Right through for mischief. All at once she wept</p> + + <p>Hot tears as girls of six years old might weep,</p> + + <p>Clinging and clamouring round their mother's lap.</p> + + <p>And I, (you know my humour, friend of mine,)</p> + + <p>Drove at his face, one, two! She gathered up</p> + + <p>Her robes and vanished straightway through the door.</p> + + <p>"And so I fail to please, false lady mine?</p> + + <p>Another lies more welcome in thy lap?</p> + + <p>Go warm that other's heart: he'll say thy tears</p> + + <p>Are liquid pearls." And as a swallow flies</p> + + <p>Forth in a hurry, here or there to find</p> + + <p>A mouthful for her brood among the eaves:</p> + + <p>From her soft sofa passing-swift she fled</p> + + <p>Through folding-doors and hall, with random feet:</p> + + <p><i>'The stag had gained his heath':</i> you know the + rest.</p> + + <p>Three weeks, a month, nine days and ten to that,</p> + + <p>To-day's the eleventh: and 'tis just two months</p> + + <p>All but two days, since she and I were two.</p> + + <p>Hence is my beard of more than Thracian growth.</p> + + <p>Now Wolf is all to her: Wolf enters in</p> + + <p>At midnight; I am a cypher in her eyes;</p> + + <p>The poor Megarian, nowhere in the race.</p> + + <p>All would go right, if I could once <i>unlove</i>:</p> + + <p>But now, you wot, the rat hath tasted tar.</p> + + <p>And what may cure a swain at his wit's end</p> + + <p>I know not: Simus, (true,) a mate of mine,</p> + + <p>Loved Epichalcus' daughter, and took ship</p> + + <p>And came home cured. I too will sail the seas.</p> + + <p>Worse men, it may be better, are afloat,</p> + + <p>I shall still prove an average man-at-arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p>Now may thy love run smoothly, Æschines!</p> + + <p>But should'st thou really mean a voyage out,</p> + + <p>The freeman's best paymaster's Ptolemy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>What is he else?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">A gentleman: a man</p> + + <p>Of wit and taste; the top of company;</p> + + <p>Loyal to ladies; one whose eye is keen</p> + + <p>For friends, and keener still for enemies.</p> + + <p>Large in his bounties, he, in kingly sort,</p> + + <p>Denies a boon to none: but, Æschines,</p> + + <p>One should not ask too often. This premised,</p> + + <p>If thou wilt clasp the military cloak</p> + + <p>O'er thy right shoulder, and with legs astride</p> + + <p>Await the onward rush of shielded men:</p> + + <p>Hie thee to Egypt. Age overtakes us all;</p> + + <p>Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin,</p> + + <p>Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time.</p> + + <p>Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Festival of Adonis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>GORGO. PRAXINOÄ.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Praxinoä in?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i6">Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!</p> + + <p>That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,</p> + + <p>A cushion, Eunoä!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i10">I lack naught.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">Sit down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Oh, what a thing is spirit! Here I am,</p> + + <p>Praxinoä, safe at last from all that crowd</p> + + <p>And all those chariots—every street a mass</p> + + <p>Of boots and uniforms! And the road, my dear,</p> + + <p>Seemed endless—you live now so far away!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>This land's-end den—I cannot call it + house—</p> + + <p>My madcap hired to keep us twain apart</p> + + <p>And stir up strife. 'Twas like him, odious pest!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Nay call not, dear, your lord, your Deinon, names</p> + + <p>To the babe's face. Look how it stares at you!</p> + + <p>There, baby dear, she never meant Papa!</p> + + <p>It understands, by'r lady! Dear Papa!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Well, yesterday (that means what day you like)</p> + + <p>'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy;</p> + + <p>He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Just such another is that pickpocket</p> + + <p>My Diocleides. He bought t'other day</p> + + <p>Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit.</p> + + <p>What were they? scraps of worn-out pedlar's-bags,</p> + + <p>Sheer trash.—But put your cloak and mantle on;</p> + + <p>And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king,</p> + + <p>To see the <i>Adonis</i>. As I hear, the queen</p> + + <p>Provides us something gorgeous.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">Ay, the grand</p> + + <p>Can do things grandly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i14">When you've seen yourself,</p> + + <p>What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not.</p> + + <p>'Twere time we started!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i20">All time's holiday</p> + + <p>With idlers! Eunoä, pampered minx, the jug!</p> + + <p>Set it down here—you cats would sleep all day</p> + + <p>On cushions—Stir yourself, fetch water, quick!</p> + + <p>Water's our first want. How she holds the jug!</p> + + <p>Now, pour—not, cormorant, in that wasteful + way—</p> + + <p>You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, + enough:</p> + + <p>I have made such toilet as my fates allowed.</p> + + <p>Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well.</p> + + <p>What did it stand you in, straight off the loom?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more.</p> + + <p>Then I gave all my mind to trimming it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Well, 'tis a great success.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">I think it is.</p> + + <p>My mantle, Eunoä, and my parasol!</p> + + <p>Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home!</p> + + <p>Horses would bite you—Boo!--Yes, cry your fill,</p> + + <p>But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off.</p> + + <p>You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing:</p> + + <p>Call the dog in: make fast the outer door!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i36">[<i>Exeunt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gods! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past</p> + + <p>This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms?</p> + + <p>Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much</p> + + <p>Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now</p> + + <p>Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the passer-by.</p> + + <p>What games men played erewhile—men shaped in + crime,</p> + + <p>Birds of a feather, rascals every one!</p> + + <p>—We're done for, Gorgo darling—here they + are,</p> + + <p>The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me!</p> + + <p>That bay—the savage!--reared up straight on end!</p> + + <p>Fly, Eunoä, can't you? Doggedly she stands.</p> + + <p>He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am</p> + + <p>My babe's at home.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i16">Praxinoä, never mind!</p> + + <p>See, we're before them now, and they're in line.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared</p> + + <p>Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on:</p> + + <p>A surging multitude is close behind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO [<i>to Old Lady</i>].</p> + + <p>From the palace, mother?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>OLD LADY.</p> + + <p class="i20">Ay, child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i26">Is it fair</p> + + <p>Of access?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>OLD LADY.</p> + + <p class="i12">Trying brought the Greeks to Troy.</p> + + <p>Young ladies, they must try who would succeed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>The crone hath said her oracle and gone.</p> + + <p>Women know all—how Adam married Eve.</p> + + <p>—Praxinoä, look what crowds are round the + door!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoä, you</p> + + <p>Hold Eutychis—hold tight or you'll be lost.</p> + + <p>We'll enter in a body—hold us fast!</p> + + <p>Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two,</p> + + <p>Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman,</p> + + <p>(And happiness be yours) respect my robe!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>STRANGER.</p> + + <p>I could not if I would—nathless I will.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>They come in hundreds, and they push like swine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>STRANGER.</p> + + <p>Lady, take courage: it is all well now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>And now and ever be it well with thee,</p> + + <p>Sweet man, for shielding us! An honest soul</p> + + <p>And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoä:</p> + + <p>Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom + said</p> + + <p>And locked the door upon himself and bride.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Praxinoä, look! Note well this broidery first.</p> + + <p>How exquisitely fine—too good for earth!</p> + + <p>Empress Athenè, what strange sempstress wrought</p> + + <p>Such work? What painter painted, realized</p> + + <p>Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move,</p> + + <p>Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man!</p> + + <p>How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch</p> + + <p>Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek,</p> + + <p>That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A STRANGER.</p> + + <p>Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate!</p> + + <p>Their brogue is killing—every word a drawl!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Where did he spring from? Is our prattle aught</p> + + <p>To you, Sir? Order your own slaves about:</p> + + <p>You're ordering Syracusan ladies now!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Corinthians bred (to tell you one fact more)</p> + + <p>As was Bellerophon: islanders in speech,</p> + + <p>For Dorians may talk Doric, I presume?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Persephonè! none lords it over me,</p> + + <p>Save one! No scullion's-wage for us from <i>you</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Hush, dear. The Argive's daughter's going to sing</p> + + <p><i>The Adonis</i>: that accomplished vocalist</p> + + <p>Who has no rival in "<i>The Sailor's Grave</i>."</p> + + <p>Observe her attitudinizing now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Song</i>.</p> + + <p>Queen, who lov'st Golgi and the Sicel hill</p> + + <p class="i2">And Ida; Aphroditè radiant-eyed;</p> + + <p>The stealthy-footed Hours from Acheron's rill</p> + + <p class="i2">Brought once again Adonis to thy side</p> + + <p>How changed in twelve short months! They travel slow,</p> + + <p class="i2">Those precious Hours: we hail their advent + still,</p> + + <p>For blessings do they bring to all below.</p> + + <p class="i2">O Sea-born! thou didst erst, or legend + lies,</p> + + <p>Shed on a woman's soul thy grace benign,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Berenicè's dust immortalize.</p> + + <p>O called by many names, at many a shrine!</p> + + <p class="i2">For thy sweet sake doth Berenicè's + child</p> + + <p>(Herself a second Helen) deck with all</p> + + <p class="i2">That's fair, Adonis. On his right are piled</p> + + <p>Ripe apples fallen from the oak-tree tall;</p> + + <p class="i2">And silver caskets at his left support</p> + + <p>Toy-gardens, Syrian scents enshrined in gold</p> + + <p class="i2">And alabaster, cakes of every sort</p> + + <p>That in their ovens the pastrywomen mould,</p> + + <p class="i2">When with white meal they mix all flowers that + bloom,</p> + + <p>Oil-cakes and honey-cakes. There stand portrayed</p> + + <p class="i2">Each bird, each butterfly; and in the gloom</p> + + <p>Of foliage climbing high, and downward weighed</p> + + <p class="i2">By graceful blossoms, do the young Loves + play</p> + + <p>Like nightingales, and perch on every tree,</p> + + <p class="i2">And flit, to try their wings, from spray to + spray.</p> + + <p>Then see the gold, the ebony! Only see</p> + + <p class="i2">The ivory-carven eagles, bearing up</p> + + <p class="i2">To Zeus the boy who fills his royal cup!</p> + + <p>Soft as a dream, such tapestry gleams o'erhead</p> + + <p class="i2">As the Milesian's self would gaze on, + charmed.</p> + + <p>But sweet Adonis hath his own sweet bed:</p> + + <p class="i2">Next Aphroditè sleeps the + roseate-armed,</p> + + <p>A bridegroom of eighteen or nineteen years.</p> + + <p class="i2">Kiss the smooth boyish lip—there's no + sting there!</p> + + <p>The bride hath found her own: all bliss be hers!</p> + + <p class="i2">And him at dewy dawn we'll troop to bear</p> + + <p>Down where the breakers hiss against the shore:</p> + + <p class="i2">There, with dishevelled dress and unbound + hair,</p> + + <p>Bare-bosomed all, our descant wild we'll pour:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Thou haunt'st, Adonis, earth and heaven in turn,</p> + + <p class="i2">Alone of heroes. Agamemnon ne'er</p> + + <p>Could compass this, nor Aias stout and stern:</p> + + <p class="i2">Not Hector, eldest-born of her who bare</p> + + <p>Ten sons, not Patrocles, nor safe-returned</p> + + <p>From Ilion Pyrrhus, such distinction earned:</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor, elder yet, the Lapithæ, the sons</p> + + <p>Of Pelops and Deucalion; or the crown</p> + + <p class="i2">Of Greece, Pelasgians. Gracious may'st thou + be,</p> + + <p>Adonis, now: pour new-year's blessings down!</p> + + <p class="i2">Right welcome dost thou come, Adonis dear:</p> + + <p class="i2">Come when thou wilt, thou'lt find a welcome + here."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>'Tis fine, Praxinoä! How I envy her</p> + + <p>Her learning, and still more her luscious voice!</p> + + <p>We must go home: my husband's supperless:</p> + + <p>And, in that state, the man's just vinegar.</p> + + <p>Don't cross his path when hungry! So farewell,</p> + + <p>Adonis, and be housed 'mid welfare aye!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Value of Song. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>What fires the Muse's, what the minstrel's lays?</p> + + <p>Hers some immortal's, ours some hero's praise,</p> + + <p>Heaven is her theme, as heavenly was her birth:</p> + + <p>We, of earth earthy, sing the sons of earth.</p> + + <p>Yet who, of all that see the gray morn rise,</p> + + <p>Lifts not his latch and hails with eager eyes</p> + + <p>My Songs, yet sends them guerdonless away?</p> + + <p>Barefoot and angry homeward journey they,</p> + + <p>Taunt him who sent them on that idle quest,</p> + + <p>Then crouch them deep within their empty chest,</p> + + <p>(When wageless they return, their dismal bed)</p> + + <p>And hide on their chill knees once more their patient + head.</p> + + <p>Where are those good old times? Who thanks us, who,</p> + + <p>For our good word? Men list not now to do</p> + + <p>Great deeds and worthy of the minstrel's verse:</p> + + <p>Vassals of gain, their hand is on their purse,</p> + + <p>Their eyes on lucre: ne'er a rusty nail</p> + + <p>They'll give in kindness; this being aye their + tale:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer;</p> + + <p>Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care.</p> + + <p>We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought?</p> + + <p>I call him chief of bards who costs me naught."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Yet what if all your chests with gold are + lined?</p> + + <p>Is this enjoying wealth? Oh fools and blind!</p> + + <p>Part on your heart's desire, on minstrels spend</p> + + <p>Part; and your kindred and your kind befriend:</p> + + <p>And daily to the gods bid altar-fires ascend.</p> + + <p>Nor be ye churlish hosts, but glad the heart</p> + + <p>Of guests with wine, when they must needs depart:</p> + + <p>And reverence most the priests of sacred song:</p> + + <p>So, when hell hides you, shall your names live long;</p> + + <p>Not doomed to wail on Acheron's sunless sands,</p> + + <p>Like some poor hind, the inward of whose hands</p> + + <p>The spade hath gnarled and knotted, born to groan,</p> + + <p>Poor sire's poor offspring, hapless Penury's own!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Their monthly dole erewhile unnumbered thralls</p> + + <p>Sought in Antiochus', in Aleuas' halls;</p> + + <p>On to the Scopadæ's byres in endless line</p> + + <p>The calves ran lowing with the hornèd kine;</p> + + <p>And, marshalled by the good Creondæ's swains</p> + + <p>Myriads of choice sheep basked on Cranron's plains.</p> + + <p>Yet had their joyaunce ended, on the day</p> + + <p>When their sweet spirit dispossessed its clay,</p> + + <p>To hated Acheron's ample barge resigned.</p> + + <p>Nameless, their stored-up luxury left behind,</p> + + <p>With the lorn dead through ages had they lain,</p> + + <p>Had not a minstrel bade them live again:—</p> + + <p>Had not in woven words the Ceïan sire</p> + + <p>Holding sweet converse with his full-toned lyre</p> + + <p>Made even their swift steeds for aye renowned,</p> + + <p>When from the sacred lists they came home crowned.</p> + + <p>Forgot were Lycia's chiefs, and Hector's hair</p> + + <p>Of gold, and Cycnus femininely fair;</p> + + <p>But that bards bring old battles back to mind.</p> + + <p>Odysseus—he who roamed amongst mankind</p> + + <p>A hundred years and more, reached utmost hell</p> + + <p>Alive, and 'scaped the giant's hideous cell—</p> + + <p>Had lived and died: Eumæus and his swine;</p> + + <p>Philoetius, busy with his herded kine;</p> + + <p>And great Laërtes' self, had passed away,</p> + + <p>Were not their names preserved in Homer's lay.</p> + + <p>Through song alone may man true glory taste;</p> + + <p>The dead man's riches his survivors waste.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">But count the waves, with yon gray wind-swept + main</p> + + <p>Borne shoreward: from a red brick wash his stain</p> + + <p>In some pool's violet depths: 'twill task thee yet</p> + + <p>To reach the heart on baleful avarice set.</p> + + <p>To such I say 'Fare well': let theirs be store</p> + + <p>Of wealth; but let them always crave for more:</p> + + <p>Horses and mules inferior things <i>I</i> find</p> + + <p>To the esteem and love of all mankind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">But to what mortal's roof may I repair,</p> + + <p>I and my Muse, and find a welcome there?</p> + + <p>I and my Muse: for minstrels fare but ill,</p> + + <p>Reft of those maids, who know the mightiest's will.</p> + + <p>The cycle of the years, it flags not yet;</p> + + <p>In many a chariot many a steed shall sweat:</p> + + <p>And one, to manhood grown, my lays shall claim,</p> + + <p>Whose deeds shall rival great Achilles' fame,</p> + + <p>Who from stout Aias might have won the prize</p> + + <p>On Simois' plain, where Phrygian Ilus lies.</p> + + <p>Now, in their sunset home on Libya's heel,</p> + + <p>Phoenicia's sons unwonted chillness feel:</p> + + <p>Now, with his targe of willow at his breast,</p> + + <p>The Syracusan bears his spear in rest,</p> + + <p>Amongst these Hiero arms him for the war,</p> + + <p>Eager to fight as warriors fought of yore;</p> + + <p>The plumes float darkling o'er his helmèd brow.</p> + + <p>O Zeus, the sire most glorious; and O thou,</p> + + <p>Empress Athenè; and thou, damsel fair,</p> + + <p>Who with thy mother wast decreed to bear</p> + + <p>Rule o'er rich Corinth, o'er that city of pride</p> + + <p>Beside whose walls Anapus' waters glide:—</p> + + <p>May ill winds waft across the Southern sea</p> + + <p>(Of late a legion, now but two or three,)</p> + + <p>Far from our isle, our foes; the doom to tell,</p> + + <p>To wife and child, of those they loved so well;</p> + + <p>While the old race enjoy once more the lands</p> + + <p>Spoiled and insulted erst by alien hands!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And fair and fruitful may their cornlands + be!</p> + + <p>Their flocks in thousands bleat upon the lea,</p> + + <p>Fat and full-fed; their kine, as home they wind,</p> + + <p>The lagging traveller of his rest remind!</p> + + <p>With might and main their fallows let them till:</p> + + <p>Till comes the seedtime, and cicalas trill</p> + + <p>(Hid from the toilers of the hot midday</p> + + <p>In the thick leafage) on the topmost spray!</p> + + <p>O'er shield and spear their webs let spiders spin,</p> + + <p>And none so much as name the battle-din!</p> + + <p>Then Hiero's lofty deeds may minstrels bear</p> + + <p>Beyond the Scythian ocean-main, and where</p> + + <p>Within those ample walls, with asphalt made</p> + + <p>Time-proof, Semiramis her empire swayed.</p> + + <p>I am but a single voice: but many a bard</p> + + <p>Beside me do those heavenly maids regard:</p> + + <p>May those all love to sing, 'mid earth's acclaim,</p> + + <p>Of Sicel Arethuse, and Hiero's fame.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O Graces, royal nurselings, who hold dear</p> + + <p>The Minyæ's city, once the Theban's fear:</p> + + <p>Unbidden I tarry, whither bidden I fare</p> + + <p>My Muse my comrade. And be ye too there,</p> + + <p>Sisters divine! Were ye and song forgot,</p> + + <p>What grace had earth? With you be aye my lot!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Praise of Ptolemy. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>With Zeus begin, sweet sisters, end with Zeus,</p> + + <p>When ye would sing the sovereign of the skies:</p> + + <p>But first among mankind rank Ptolemy;</p> + + <p>First, last, and midmost; being past compare.</p> + + <p>Those mighty ones of old, half men half gods,</p> + + <p>Wrought deeds that shine in many a subtle strain;</p> + + <p>I, no unpractised minstrel, sing but him;</p> + + <p>Divinest ears disdain not minstrelsy.</p> + + <p>But as a woodman sees green Ida rise</p> + + <p>Pine above pine, and ponders which to fell</p> + + <p>First of those myriads; even so I pause</p> + + <p>Where to begin the chapter of his praise:</p> + + <p>For thousand and ten thousand are the gifts</p> + + <p>Wherewith high heaven hath graced the kingliest king.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Was not he born to compass noblest ends,</p> + + <p>Lagus' own son, so soon as he matured</p> + + <p>Schemes such as ne'er had dawned on meaner minds?</p> + + <p>Zeus doth esteem him as the blessèd gods;</p> + + <p>In the sire's courts his golden mansion stands.</p> + + <p>And near him Alexander sits and smiles,</p> + + <p>The turbaned Persian's dread; and, fronting both,</p> + + <p>Rises the stedfast adamantine seat</p> + + <p>Erst fashioned for the bull-slayer Heracles.</p> + + <p>Who there holds revels with his heavenly mates,</p> + + <p>And sees, with joy exceeding, children rise</p> + + <p>On children; for that Zeus exempts from age</p> + + <p>And death their frames who sprang from Heracles:</p> + + <p>And Ptolemy, like Alexander, claims</p> + + <p>From him; his gallant son their common sire.</p> + + <p>And when, the banquet o'er, the Strong Man wends,</p> + + <p>Cloyed with rich nectar, home unto his wife,</p> + + <p>This kinsman hath in charge his cherished shafts</p> + + <p>And bow; and that his gnarled and knotted club;</p> + + <p>And both to white-limbed Hebè's bower of bliss</p> + + <p>Convoy the bearded warrior and his arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then how among wise ladies—blest the + pair</p> + + <p>That reared her!--peerless Berenicè shone!</p> + + <p>Dionè's sacred child, the Cyprian queen,</p> + + <p>O'er that sweet bosom passed her taper hands:</p> + + <p>And hence, 'tis said, no man loved woman e'er</p> + + <p>As Ptolemy loved her. She o'er-repaid</p> + + <p>His love; so, nothing doubting, he could leave</p> + + <p>His substance in his loyal children's care,</p> + + <p>And rest with her, fond husband with fond wife.</p> + + <p>She that loves not bears sons, but all unlike</p> + + <p>Their father: for her heart was otherwhere.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Aphroditè, matchless e'en in + heaven</p> + + <p>For beauty, thou didst love her; wouldst not let</p> + + <p>Thy Berenicè cross the wailful waves:</p> + + <p>But thy hand snatched her—to the blue lake bound</p> + + <p>Else, and the dead's grim ferryman—and enshrined</p> + + <p>With thee, to share thy honours. There she sits,</p> + + <p>To mortals ever kind, and passion soft</p> + + <p>Inspires, and makes the lover's burden light.</p> + + <p>The dark-browed Argive, linked with Tydeus, bare</p> + + <p>Diomed the slayer, famed in Calydon:</p> + + <p>And deep-veiled Thetis unto Peleus gave</p> + + <p>The javelineer Achilles. Thou wast born</p> + + <p>Of Berenicè, Ptolemy by name</p> + + <p>And by descent, a warrior's warrior child.</p> + + <p>Cos from its mother's arms her babe received,</p> + + <p>Its destined nursery, on its natal day:</p> + + <p>'Twas there Antigonè's daughter in her pangs</p> + + <p>Cried to the goddess that could bid them cease:</p> + + <p>Who soon was at her side, and lo! her limbs</p> + + <p>Forgat their anguish, and a child was born</p> + + <p>Fair, its sire's self. Cos saw, and shouted loud;</p> + + <p>Handled the babe all tenderly, and spake:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus + doth</p> + + <p>His azure-spherèd Delos: grace the hill</p> + + <p>Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores,</p> + + <p>As king Apollo his Rhenæa's isle."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i3">So spake the isle. An eagle high overhead</p> + + <p>Poised in the clouds screamed thrice, the prophet-bird</p> + + <p>Of Zeus, and sent by him. For awful kings</p> + + <p>All are his care, those chiefliest on whose birth</p> + + <p>He smiled: exceeding glory waits on them:</p> + + <p>Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea.</p> + + <p>But if a myriad realms spread far and wide</p> + + <p>O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil</p> + + <p>To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land</p> + + <p>Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile</p> + + <p>Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe?</p> + + <p>Where are like cities, peopled by like men?</p> + + <p>Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise,</p> + + <p>Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all</p> + + <p>He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby,</p> + + <p>Syria and Libya, and the Æthiops murk;</p> + + <p>Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves,</p> + + <p>The Lycian and the Carian trained to war,</p> + + <p>And all the isles: for never fleet like his</p> + + <p>Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike</p> + + <p>And sounding rivers hail king Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Many are his horsemen, many his targeteers,</p> + + <p>Whose burdened breast is bright with clashing steel:</p> + + <p>Light are all royal treasuries, weighed with his.</p> + + <p>For wealth from all climes travels day by day</p> + + <p>To his rich realm, a hive of prosperous peace.</p> + + <p>No foeman's tramp scares monster-peopled Nile,</p> + + <p>Waking to war her far-off villages:</p> + + <p>No armed robber from his war-ship leaps</p> + + <p>To spoil the herds of Egypt. Such a prince</p> + + <p>Sits throned in her broad plains, in whose right arm</p> + + <p>Quivers the spear, the bright-haired Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Like a true king, he guards with might and main</p> + + <p>The wealth his sires' arm won him and his own.</p> + + <p>Nor strown all idly o'er his sumptuous halls</p> + + <p>Lie piles that seem the work of labouring ants.</p> + + <p>The holy homes of gods are rich therewith;</p> + + <p>Theirs are the firstfruits, earnest aye of more.</p> + + <p>And freely mighty kings thereof partake,</p> + + <p>Freely great cities, freely honoured friends.</p> + + <p>None entered e'er the sacred lists of song,</p> + + <p>Whose lips could breathe sweet music, but he gained</p> + + <p>Fair guerdon at the hand of Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>And Ptolemy do music's votaries hymn</p> + + <p>For his good gifts—hath man a fairer lot</p> + + <p>Than to have earned much fame among mankind?</p> + + <p>The Atridæ's name abides, while all the wealth</p> + + <p>Won from the sack of Priam's stately home</p> + + <p>A mist closed o'er it, to be seen no more.</p> + + <p>Ptolemy, he only, treads a path whose dust</p> + + <p>Burns with the footprints of his ancestors,</p> + + <p>And overlays those footprints with his own.</p> + + <p>He raised rich shrines to mother and to sire,</p> + + <p>There reared their forms in ivory and gold,</p> + + <p>Passing in beauty, to befriend mankind.</p> + + <p>Thighs of fat oxen oftentimes he burns</p> + + <p>On crimsoning altars, as the months roll on,</p> + + <p>Ay he and his staunch wife. No fairer bride</p> + + <p>E'er clasped her lord in royal palaces:</p> + + <p>And her heart's love her brother-husband won.</p> + + <p>In such blest union joined the immortal pair</p> + + <p>Whom queenly Rhea bore, and heaven obeys:</p> + + <p>One couch the maiden of the rainbow decks</p> + + <p>With myrrh-dipt hands for Hera and for Zeus.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now farewell, prince! I rank thee aye with + gods:</p> + + <p>And read this lesson to the afterdays,</p> + + <p>Mayhap they'll prize it: 'Honour is of Zeus.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Bridal of Helen. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Whilom, in Lacedæmon,</p> + + <p class="i2">Tript many a maiden fair</p> + + <p>To gold-tressed Menelaus' halls,</p> + + <p class="i2">With hyacinths in her hair:</p> + + <p>Twelve to the Painted Chamber,</p> + + <p class="i2">The queenliest in the land,</p> + + <p>The clustered loveliness of Greece,</p> + + <p class="i2">Came dancing hand in hand.</p> + + <p>For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter,</p> + + <p class="i2">Had just been wooed and won,</p> + + <p>Helen the darling of the world,</p> + + <p class="i2">By Atreus' younger son:</p> + + <p>With woven steps they beat the floor</p> + + <p class="i2">In unison, and sang</p> + + <p>Their bridal-hymn of triumph</p> + + <p class="i2">Till all the palace rang.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Slumberest so soon, sweet bridegroom?</p> + + <p class="i2">Art thou o'erfond of sleep?</p> + + <p>Or hast thou leadenweighted limbs?</p> + + <p class="i2">Or hadst thou drunk too deep</p> + + <p>When thou didst fling thee to thy lair?</p> + + <p class="i2">Betimes thou should'st have sped,</p> + + <p>If sleep were all thy purpose,</p> + + <p class="i2">Unto thy bachelor's bed:</p> + + <p>And left her in her mother's arms</p> + + <p class="i2">To nestle, and to play</p> + + <p>A girl among her girlish mates</p> + + <p class="i2">Till deep into the day:—</p> + + <p>For not alone for this night,</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor for the next alone,</p> + + <p>But through the days and through the years</p> + + <p class="i2">Thou hast her for thine own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Nay! heaven, O happy bridegroom,</p> + + <p class="i2">Smiled as thou enteredst in</p> + + <p>To Sparta, like thy brother kings,</p> + + <p class="i2">And told thee thou should'st win!</p> + + <p>What hero son-in-law of Zeus</p> + + <p class="i2">Hath e'er aspired to be?</p> + + <p>Yet lo! one coverlet enfolds</p> + + <p class="i2">The child of Zeus, and thee.</p> + + <p>Ne'er did a thing so lovely</p> + + <p class="i2">Roam the Achaian lea.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And who shall match her offspring,</p> + + <p class="i2">If babes are like their mother?</p> + + <p>For we were playmates once, and ran</p> + + <p class="i2">And raced with one another</p> + + <p>(All varnished, warrior fashion)</p> + + <p class="i2">Along Eurotas' tide,</p> + + <p>Thrice eighty gentle maidens,</p> + + <p class="i2">Each in her girlhood's pride:</p> + + <p>Yet none of all seemed faultless,</p> + + <p class="i2">If placed by Helen's side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As peers the nascent Morning</p> + + <p class="i2">Over thy shades, O Night,</p> + + <p>When Winter disenchains the land,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Spring goes forth in white:</p> + + <p>So Helen shone above us,</p> + + <p class="i2">All loveliness and light.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As climbs aloft some cypress,</p> + + <p class="i2">Garden or glade to grace;</p> + + <p>As the Thessalian courser lends</p> + + <p class="i2">A lustre to the race:</p> + + <p>So bright o'er Lacedæmon</p> + + <p class="i2">Shone Helen's rosebud face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And who into the basket e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">The yarn so deftly drew,</p> + + <p>Or through the mazes of the web</p> + + <p class="i2">So well the shuttle threw,</p> + + <p>And severed from the framework</p> + + <p class="i2">As closelywov'n a warp:—</p> + + <p>And who could wake with masterhand</p> + + <p class="i2">Such music from the harp,</p> + + <p>To broadlimbed Pallas tuning</p> + + <p class="i2">And Artemis her lay—</p> + + <p>As Helen, Helen in whose eyes</p> + + <p class="i2">The Loves for ever play?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"O bright, O beautiful, for thee</p> + + <p class="i2">Are matron-cares begun.</p> + + <p>We to green paths and blossomed meads</p> + + <p class="i2">With dawn of morn must run,</p> + + <p>And cull a breathing chaplet;</p> + + <p class="i2">And still our dream shall be,</p> + + <p>Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs</p> + + <p class="i2">Yearn in the pasture for the dams</p> + + <p>That nursed their infancy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"For thee the lowly lotus-bed</p> + + <p class="i2">We'll spoil, and plait a crown</p> + + <p>To hang upon the shadowy plane;</p> + + <p class="i2">For thee will we drop down</p> + + <p>('Neath that same shadowy platan)</p> + + <p class="i2">Oil from our silver urn;</p> + + <p>And carven on the bark shall be</p> + + <p class="i2">This sentence, 'HALLOW HELEN'S TREE';</p> + + <p>In Dorian letters, legibly</p> + + <p class="i2">For all men to discern.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Now farewell, bride, and bridegroom</p> + + <p class="i2">Blest in thy new-found sire!</p> + + <p>May Leto, mother of the brave,</p> + + <p class="i2">Bring babes at your desire,</p> + + <p>And holy Cypris either's breast</p> + + <p class="i2">With mutual transport fire:</p> + + <p>And Zeus the son of Cronos</p> + + <p class="i2">Grant blessings without end,</p> + + <p>From princely sire to princely son</p> + + <p class="i2">For ever to descend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Sleep on, and love and longing</p> + + <p class="i2">Breathe in each other's breast;</p> + + <p>But fail not when the morn returns</p> + + <p class="i2">To rouse you from your rest:</p> + + <p>With dawn shall we be stirring,</p> + + <p class="i2">When, lifting high his fair</p> + + <p>And feathered neck, the earliest bird</p> + + <p class="i2">To clarion to the dawn is heard.</p> + + <p class="i4">O god of brides and bridals,</p> + + <p class="i6">Sing 'Happy, happy pair!'"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Love Stealing Honey. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once thievish Love the honeyed hives would rob,</p> + + <p>When a bee stung him: soon he felt a throb</p> + + <p>Through all his finger-tips, and, wild with pain,</p> + + <p>Blew on his hands and stamped and jumped in vain.</p> + + <p>To Aphroditè then he told his woe:</p> + + <p>'How can a thing so tiny hurt one so?'</p> + + <p>She smiled and said; 'Why thou'rt a tiny thing,</p> + + <p>As is the bee; yet sorely thou canst sting.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Town and Country + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once I would kiss Eunicè. "Back," quoth she,</p> + + <p>And screamed and stormed; "a sorry clown kiss me?</p> + + <p>Your country compliments, I like not such;</p> + + <p>No lips but gentles' would I deign to touch.</p> + + <p>Ne'er dream of kissing me: alike I shun</p> + + <p>Your face, your language, and your tigerish fun.</p> + + <p>How winning are your tones, how fine your air!</p> + + <p>Your beard how silken and how sweet your hair!</p> + + <p>Pah! you've a sick man's lips, a blackamoor's hand:</p> + + <p>Your breath's defilement. Leave me, I command."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thrice spat she on her robe, and, muttering + low,</p> + + <p>Scanned me, with half-shut eyes, from top to toe:</p> + + <p>Brought all her woman's witcheries into play,</p> + + <p>Still smiling in a set sarcastic way,</p> + + <p>Till my blood boiled, my visage crimson grew</p> + + <p>With indignation, as a rose with dew:</p> + + <p>And so she left me, inly to repine</p> + + <p>That such as she could flout such charms as mine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O shepherds, tell me true! Am I not fair?</p> + + <p>Am I transformed? For lately I did wear</p> + + <p>Grace as a garment; and my cheeks, o'er them</p> + + <p>Ran the rich growth like ivy round the stem.</p> + + <p>Like fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed;</p> + + <p>O'er my dark eyebrows, white my forehead gleamed:</p> + + <p>My eyes were of Athenè's radiant blue,</p> + + <p>My mouth was milk, its accents honeydew.</p> + + <p>Then I could sing—my tones were soft + indeed!—</p> + + <p>To pipe or flute or flageolet or reed:</p> + + <p>And me did every maid that roams the fell</p> + + <p>Kiss and call fair: not so this city belle.</p> + + <p>She scorns the herdsman; knows not how divine</p> + + <p>Bacchus ranged once the valleys with his kine;</p> + + <p>How Cypris, maddened for a herdsman's sake,</p> + + <p>Deigned upon Phrygia's mountains to partake</p> + + <p>His cares: and wooed, and wept, Adonis in the brake.</p> + + <p>What was Endymion, sweet Selenè's love?</p> + + <p>A herdsman's lad. Yet came she from above,</p> + + <p>Down to green Latmos, by his side to sleep.</p> + + <p>And did not Rhea for a herdsman weep?</p> + + <p>Didst not thou, Zeus, become a wandering bird,</p> + + <p>To win the love of one who drove a herd?</p> + + <p>Selenè, Cybelè, Cypris, all loved + swains:</p> + + <p>Eunicè, loftier-bred, their kiss disdains.</p> + + <p>Henceforth, by hill or hall, thy love disown,</p> + + <p>Cypris, and sleep the livelong night alone.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Fishermen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>ASPHALION, A COMRADE.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work,</p> + + <p>O Diophantus: for the child of toil</p> + + <p>Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares:</p> + + <p>Or, if he taste the blessedness of night,</p> + + <p>Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Two ancient fishers once lay side by side</p> + + <p>On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut,</p> + + <p>Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay</p> + + <p>The weapons of their trade, basket and rod,</p> + + <p>Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars,</p> + + <p>And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat.</p> + + <p>Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out</p> + + <p>With caps and garments: such the ways and means,</p> + + <p>Such the whole treasury of the fishermen.</p> + + <p>They knew no luxuries: owned nor door nor dog;</p> + + <p>Their craft their all, their mistress Poverty:</p> + + <p>Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye</p> + + <p>Bound their lorn hut came floating lazily.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Ere the moon's chariot was in mid-career,</p> + + <p>The fishers girt them for their customed toil,</p> + + <p>And banished slumber from unwilling eyes,</p> + + <p>And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"They say that soon flit summer-nights + away,</p> + + <p>Because all lingering is the summer day:</p> + + <p>Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I</p> + + <p>Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky.</p> + + <p>How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>HIS COMRADE.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so.</p> + + <p>'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong,</p> + + <p>But care maims slumber, and the nights seem long."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Didst thou e'er study dreams? For visions + fair</p> + + <p>I saw last night; and fairly thou should'st share</p> + + <p>The wealth I dream of, as the fish I catch.</p> + + <p>Now, for sheer sense, I reckon few thy match;</p> + + <p>And, for a vision, he whose motherwit</p> + + <p>Is his sole tutor best interprets it.</p> + + <p>And now we've time the matter to discuss:</p> + + <p>For who could labour, lying here (like us)</p> + + <p>Pillowed on leaves and neighboured by the deep,</p> + + <p>Or sleeping amid thorns no easy sleep?</p> + + <p>In rich men's halls the lamps are burning yet;</p> + + <p>But fish come alway to the rich man's net."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMRADE.</p> + + <p class="i2">"To me the vision of the night relate;</p> + + <p>Speak, and reveal the riddle to thy mate."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Last evening, as I plied my watery trade,</p> + + <p>(Not on an o'erfull stomach—we had made</p> + + <p>Betimes a meagre meal, as you can vouch,)</p> + + <p>I fell asleep; and lo! I seemed to crouch</p> + + <p>Among the boulders, and for fish to wait,</p> + + <p>Still dangling, rod in hand, my vagrant bait.</p> + + <p>A fat fellow caught it: (e'en in sleep I'm bound</p> + + <p>To dream of fishing, as of crusts the hound:)</p> + + <p>Fast clung he to the hooks; his blood outwelled;</p> + + <p>Bent with his struggling was the rod I held:</p> + + <p>I tugged and tugged: my efforts made me ache:</p> + + <p>'How, with a line thus slight, this monster take?'</p> + + <p>Then gently, just to warn him he was caught,</p> + + <p>I twitched him once; then slacked and then made taut</p> + + <p>My line, for now he offered not to ran;</p> + + <p>A glance soon showed me all my task was done.</p> + + <p>'Twas a gold fish, pure metal every inch</p> + + <p>That I had captured. I began to flinch:</p> + + <p>'What if this beauty be the sea-king's joy,</p> + + <p>Or azure Amphitritè's treasured toy!'</p> + + <p>With care I disengaged him—not to rip</p> + + <p>With hasty hook the gilding from his lip:</p> + + <p>And with a tow-line landed him, and swore</p> + + <p>Never to set my foot on ocean more,</p> + + <p>But with my gold live royally ashore.</p> + + <p>So I awoke: and, comrade, lend me now</p> + + <p>Thy wits, for I am troubled for my vow."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMRADE.</p> + + <p>"Ne'er quake: you're pledged to nothing, for no prize</p> + + <p>You gained or gazed on. Dreams are nought but lies.</p> + + <p>Yet may this dream bear fruit; if, wide-awake</p> + + <p>And not in dreams, you'll fish the neighbouring lake.</p> + + <p>Fish that are meat you'll there mayhap behold,</p> + + <p>Not die of famine, amid dreams of gold."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Sons of Leda + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The pair I sing, that Ægis-armèd Zeus</p> + + <p>Gave unto Leda; Castor and the dread</p> + + <p>Of bruisers Polydeuces, whensoe'er</p> + + <p>His harnessed hands were lifted for the fray.</p> + + <p>Twice and again I sing the manly sons</p> + + <p>Of Leda, those Twin Brethren, Sparta's own:</p> + + <p>Who shield the soldier on the deadly scarp,</p> + + <p>The horse wild-plunging o'er the crimson field,</p> + + <p>The ship that, disregarding in her pride</p> + + <p>Star-set and star-rise, meets disastrous gales:—</p> + + <p>Such gales as pile the billows mountain-high,</p> + + <p>E'en at their own wild will, round stem or stern:</p> + + <p>Dash o'er the hold, the timbers rive in twain,</p> + + <p>Till mast and tackle dangle in mid-air</p> + + <p>Shivered like toys, and, as the night wears on,</p> + + <p>The rain of heaven falls fast, and, lashed by wind</p> + + <p>And iron hail, broad ocean rings again.</p> + + <p>Then can they draw from out the nether abyss</p> + + <p>Both craft and crew, each deeming he must die:</p> + + <p>Lo the winds cease, and o'er the burnished deep</p> + + <p>Comes stillness; this way flee the clouds and that;</p> + + <p>And shine out clear the Great Bear and the Less,</p> + + <p>And, 'twixt the Asses dimly seen, the Crib</p> + + <p>Foretells fair voyage to the mariner.</p> + + <p>O saviours, O companions of mankind,</p> + + <p>Matchless on horse or harp, in lists or lay;</p> + + <p>Which of ye twain demands my earliest song?</p> + + <p>Of both I sing; of Polydeuces first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks,</p> + + <p>And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws,</p> + + <p>Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight;</p> + + <p>There by one ladder disembarked a host</p> + + <p>Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship.</p> + + <p>On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff,</p> + + <p>They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires:</p> + + <p>Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed,</p> + + <p>And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face,</p> + + <p>Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both,</p> + + <p>Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found</p> + + <p>Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring</p> + + <p>Brimful of purest water. In the depths</p> + + <p>Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed</p> + + <p>The pebbles: high above it pine and plane</p> + + <p>And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green;</p> + + <p>With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes</p> + + <p>The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee.</p> + + <p>There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk</p> + + <p>And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears:</p> + + <p>Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbèd chest;</p> + + <p>Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame:</p> + + <p>And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm</p> + + <p>Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones</p> + + <p>Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth</p> + + <p>By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine</p> + + <p>Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin.</p> + + <p>Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Can silver move thee? or if not, what can?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Stand up and fight me singly, man with man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>By crimson-crested cocks such games are won.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and + blew</p> + + <p>His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine</p> + + <p>Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,</p> + + <p>Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too,</p> + + <p>The peerless in the lists, went forth and called</p> + + <p>From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then either warrior armed with coils of + hide</p> + + <p>His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands,</p> + + <p>And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring.</p> + + <p>First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch</p> + + <p>The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil,</p> + + <p>O Polydeuces, valour by address;</p> + + <p>And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote.</p> + + <p>He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war;</p> + + <p>Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed,</p> + + <p>Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still,</p> + + <p>And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows.</p> + + <p>Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered</p> + + <p>Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space</p> + + <p>This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down.</p> + + <p>But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus</p> + + <p>Scored him with swift exchange of left and right,</p> + + <p>And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child</p> + + <p>Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds,</p> + + <p>He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood.</p> + + <p>Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw</p> + + <p>The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars,</p> + + <p>And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes.</p> + + <p>Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there</p> + + <p>A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all,</p> + + <p>Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose,</p> + + <p>And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man</p> + + <p>Measured his length supine amid the fern.</p> + + <p>Keen was the fighting when he rose again,</p> + + <p>Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt.</p> + + <p>But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest</p> + + <p>And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe</p> + + <p>Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds.</p> + + <p>While the one sweated all his bulk away,</p> + + <p>And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now,</p> + + <p>The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought</p> + + <p>In semblance and in size. But in what wise</p> + + <p>The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed,</p> + + <p>Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold</p> + + <p>A secret not mine own; at thy behest</p> + + <p>Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed,</p> + + <p>Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge</p> + + <p>Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved</p> + + <p>From his right hip his ponderous other-arm.</p> + + <p>And hit and harmed had been Amyclæ's king;</p> + + <p>But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist</p> + + <p>The foe's left temple—fast the life-blood + streamed</p> + + <p>From the grim rift—and on his shoulder fell.</p> + + <p>While with his left he reached the mouth, and made</p> + + <p>The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye</p> + + <p>His plashing blows, made havoc of his face</p> + + <p>And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad</p> + + <p>He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed</p> + + <p>The strife, for he was even at death's door.</p> + + <p>No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands,</p> + + <p>O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath,</p> + + <p>Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths,</p> + + <p>Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I + thee,</p> + + <p>Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse</p> + + <p>And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <center> + PART II. + </center> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away,</p> + + <p>Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit</p> + + <p>Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus,</p> + + <p>Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords.</p> + + <p>And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained,</p> + + <p>All leapt from out their cars, and front to front</p> + + <p>Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields.</p> + + <p>First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in + hand,</p> + + <p>Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives?</p> + + <p>To us Leucippus these his daughters gave,</p> + + <p>Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath.</p> + + <p>Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed</p> + + <p>And kine and asses and whatever is his,</p> + + <p>Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes.</p> + + <p>How often spake I thus before your face,</p> + + <p>Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase:</p> + + <p>'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men</p> + + <p>Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere.</p> + + <p>Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds</p> + + <p>Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad,</p> + + <p>And Argos and Messene and the towns</p> + + <p>To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach.</p> + + <p>There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid</p> + + <p>Second to none in godliness or wit:</p> + + <p>Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will,</p> + + <p>For all men court the kinship of the brave;</p> + + <p>And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood</p> + + <p>Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war.</p> + + <p>Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass;</p> + + <p>Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.'</p> + + <p>So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas</p> + + <p>The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace</p> + + <p>With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice.</p> + + <p>Yet listen to me now if ne'er before:</p> + + <p>Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side.</p> + + <p>But if ye lust for war, if strife must break</p> + + <p>Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud,</p> + + <p>Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands</p> + + <p>And his cousin Idas from the abhorrèd fray:</p> + + <p>While I and Castor, the two younger-born,</p> + + <p>Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires</p> + + <p>Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead</p> + + <p>Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates,</p> + + <p>To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave,</p> + + <p>And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were</p> + + <p>At cost so small to lay so huge a strife."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spoke—his words heaven gave not to the + winds.</p> + + <p>They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled</p> + + <p>Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring,</p> + + <p>And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear.</p> + + <p>And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance;</p> + + <p>High waved the plume on either warrior's helm.</p> + + <p>First each at other thrust with busy spear</p> + + <p>Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed:</p> + + <p>But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields</p> + + <p>Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain.</p> + + <p>Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new + modes</p> + + <p>Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none.</p> + + <p>Oft Castor on broad shield and plumèd helm</p> + + <p>Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield,</p> + + <p>Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon,</p> + + <p>As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee,</p> + + <p>Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off</p> + + <p>His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword.</p> + + <p>And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb</p> + + <p>He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw</p> + + <p>The battle of the brethren. But the child</p> + + <p>Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave</p> + + <p>Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke</p> + + <p>His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell,</p> + + <p>And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep.</p> + + <p>Nor did their mother see her elder son</p> + + <p>Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home.</p> + + <p>For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb</p> + + <p>A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man</p> + + <p>Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid,</p> + + <p>And struck the marble fabric from his grasp,</p> + + <p>And with red lightning burned his frame to dust.</p> + + <p>So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke</p> + + <p>The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire.</p> + + <p>Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye</p> + + <p>The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well</p> + + <p>The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs</p> + + <p>That trod Troy down for Meneläus' sake?</p> + + <p>The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds</p> + + <p>Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state,</p> + + <p>And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks,</p> + + <p>And of Achilles towering in the strife.</p> + + <p>Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song</p> + + <p>The Muse accords me, even all my store!</p> + + <p>The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Love Avenged + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one</p> + + <p class="i2">Whose mood was froward as her face was + fair.</p> + + <p>Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none:</p> + + <p class="i2">Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he + bare</p> + + <p>A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart:</p> + + <p>Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So he found naught his furnace to allay;</p> + + <p class="i2">No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind + eyes,</p> + + <p>Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play</p> + + <p class="i2">Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are + shy</p> + + <p>Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she;</p> + + <p>Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face,</p> + + <p class="i2">That flushed, then altering put on blank + disdain.</p> + + <p>Yet, even then, her anger had its grace,</p> + + <p class="i2">And made her lover fall in love again.</p> + + <p>At last, unable to endure his flame,</p> + + <p>To the fell threshold all in tears he came:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said:</p> + + <p class="i2">"O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid</p> + + <p>Unworthy of all love, by lions bred,</p> + + <p class="i2">See, my last offering at thy feet is laid,</p> + + <p>The halter that shall hang me! So no more</p> + + <p>For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare.</p> + + <p class="i2">There is a path, that whoso treads hath + ease</p> + + <p>(Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there.</p> + + <p class="i2">But if I drain that chalice to the lees,</p> + + <p>I may not quench the love I have for you;</p> + + <p>Now at your gates I cast my long adieu.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Your future I foresee. The rose is gay,</p> + + <p class="i2">And passing-sweet the violet of the spring:</p> + + <p>Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay.</p> + + <p class="i2">The lily droops and dies, that lustrous + thing;</p> + + <p>The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast;</p> + + <p>And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The time shall come, when you shall feel as I;</p> + + <p class="i2">And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter + tear.</p> + + <p>But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy.</p> + + <p class="i2">When you come forth, and see me hanging + here,</p> + + <p>E'en at your door, forget not my hard case;</p> + + <p>But pause and weep me for a moment's space.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall,</p> + + <p>That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me—let the dead</p> + + <p class="i2">Be privileged thus highly—last of + all.</p> + + <p>You need not fear me: not if your disdain</p> + + <p>Changed into fondness could I live again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me:</p> + + <p class="i2">And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no + more:'</p> + + <p>Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;'</p> + + <p class="i2">And write this epitaph, scratched upon your + door:</p> + + <p><i>Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until</i></p> + + <p><i>Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him + ill</i>.'"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone</p> + + <p class="i2">At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he + laid,</p> + + <p>And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown,</p> + + <p class="i2">And his neck noosed. In air the body + swayed,</p> + + <p>Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more</p> + + <p>The maid, and saw him hanging at her door.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear</p> + + <p class="i2">She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to + soil,</p> + + <p>By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear.</p> + + <p class="i2">But on she went to watch the athletes' + toil,</p> + + <p>Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside:</p> + + <p>And there she met the god she had defied.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For on a marble pedestal Eros stood</p> + + <p class="i2">Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and + smote</p> + + <p>And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood;</p> + + <p class="i2">And to the top a girl's cry seemed to + float.</p> + + <p>Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell;</p> + + <p>And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Infant Heracles. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Alcmena once had washed and given the + breast</p> + + <p>To Heracles, a babe of ten months old,</p> + + <p>And Iphicles his junior by a night;</p> + + <p>And cradled both within a brazen shield,</p> + + <p>A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst</p> + + <p>Had stript from Ptereläus fall'n in fight.</p> + + <p>She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious + sleep,</p> + + <p>Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life:</p> + + <p>Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">She spake and rocked the shield; and in his + arms</p> + + <p>Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear</p> + + <p>Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front</p> + + <p>Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent,</p> + + <p>Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things,</p> + + <p>Snakes with their scales of azure all on end,</p> + + <p>To the broad portal of the chamber-door,</p> + + <p>All to devour the infant Heracles.</p> + + <p>They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor,</p> + + <p>Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light</p> + + <p>Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth.</p> + + <p>But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot,</p> + + <p>Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all)</p> + + <p>Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light.</p> + + <p>Then Iphicles—so soon as he descried</p> + + <p>The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield,</p> + + <p>And saw their merciless fangs—cried lustily,</p> + + <p>And kicked away his coverlet of down,</p> + + <p>Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung</p> + + <p>Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp</p> + + <p>Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat,</p> + + <p>The deadly snake's laboratory, where</p> + + <p>He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors.</p> + + <p>They twined and twisted round the babe that, born</p> + + <p>After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear</p> + + <p>E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold,</p> + + <p>For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard,</p> + + <p>While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on + me.</p> + + <p>Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet.</p> + + <p>Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries?</p> + + <p>Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night,</p> + + <p>But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know,</p> + + <p>Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening + here."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">She spake; and he, upleaping at her call,</p> + + <p>Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device</p> + + <p>That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch:</p> + + <p>And he was reaching at his span-new belt,</p> + + <p>The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood)</p> + + <p>Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night</p> + + <p>Spread out her hands, and all was dark again.</p> + + <p>Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep:</p> + + <p>"Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth:</p> + + <p>And force with all your strength the doorbolts back!</p> + + <p>Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Forth came at once the slaves with lighted + lamps.</p> + + <p>The house was all astir with hurrying feet.</p> + + <p>But when they saw the suckling Heracles</p> + + <p>With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands,</p> + + <p>They shouted with one voice. But he must show</p> + + <p>The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft</p> + + <p>His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid</p> + + <p>At his sire's feet the monsters still in death.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then did Alcmena to her bosom take</p> + + <p>The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles:</p> + + <p>Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt,</p> + + <p>Her lord once more bethought him of his rest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was + e'er.</p> + + <p>Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing</p> + + <p>To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth,</p> + + <p>And bade him rede her what the end should be:—</p> + + <p>'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not,</p> + + <p>Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid</p> + + <p>The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins.</p> + + <p>Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus spake the queen, and thus he made + reply:</p> + + <p>"Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart;</p> + + <p>And look but on the fairer side of things.</p> + + <p>For by the precious light that long ago</p> + + <p>Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft</p> + + <p>Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high</p> + + <p>They mould the silken yarn upon their lap,</p> + + <p>Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou</p> + + <p>Of women. Such a man in this thy son</p> + + <p>Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven:</p> + + <p>His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord</p> + + <p>Of all the forest beasts and all mankind.</p> + + <p>Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus;</p> + + <p>His flesh given over to Trachinian fires;</p> + + <p>And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods</p> + + <p>Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe.</p> + + <p>Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch</p> + + <p>In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth</p> + + <p>That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep</p> + + <p>Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles</p> + + <p>Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze</p> + + <p>Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind:</p> + + <p>And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes</p> + + <p>At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe.</p> + + <p>And let at dawn some handmaid gather up</p> + + <p>The ashes of the fire, and diligently</p> + + <p>Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream</p> + + <p>Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return</p> + + <p>Nor look behind. And purify your home</p> + + <p>First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then,</p> + + <p>(Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,)</p> + + <p>Innocuous water, and the customed salt.</p> + + <p>Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar:</p> + + <p>So shall ye vanquish all your enemies."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his + years</p> + + <p>Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car.</p> + + <p>And Heracles as some young orchard-tree</p> + + <p>Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire.</p> + + <p>Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child,</p> + + <p>A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp.</p> + + <p>Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell,</p> + + <p>The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man</p> + + <p>By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er,</p> + + <p>Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they</p> + + <p>Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art,</p> + + <p>Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore</p> + + <p>Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son:</p> + + <p>Whom no man might behold while yet far off</p> + + <p>And wait his armed onset undismayed:</p> + + <p>A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face.</p> + + <p>To launch, and steer in safety round the goal,</p> + + <p>Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel,</p> + + <p>This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self.</p> + + <p>Many a fair prize from listed warriors he</p> + + <p>Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car</p> + + <p>Whereon he sat came still unshattered home,</p> + + <p>What gaps were in his harness time had made.</p> + + <p>Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe</p> + + <p>Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword;</p> + + <p>Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade,</p> + + <p>Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers;</p> + + <p>This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled</p> + + <p>From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth</p> + + <p>Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received</p> + + <p>Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand.</p> + + <p>Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match</p> + + <p>Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such tutors this fond mother gave her son.</p> + + <p>The stripling's bed was at his father's side,</p> + + <p>One after his own heart, a lion's skin.</p> + + <p>His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled</p> + + <p>A Dorian basket, you might soothly say</p> + + <p>Had satisfied a delver; and to close</p> + + <p>The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal.</p> + + <p>A simple frock went halfway down his leg:</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 45%;"> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXV.</h2><br> + + <center> + Heracles the Lion Slayer. + </center> + <hr style="width: 45%;"> + <br> + <br> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">To whom thus spake the herdsman of the + herd,</p> + + <p>Pausing a moment from his handiwork:</p> + + <p>"Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear</p> + + <p>The angry looks of Hermes of the roads.</p> + + <p>No dweller in the skies is wroth as he,</p> + + <p>With him who saith the asking traveller nay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"The flocks Augéas owns, our gracious + lord,</p> + + <p>One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds.</p> + + <p>They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks</p> + + <p>Or god-beloved Alphéus' sacred stream,</p> + + <p>Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds,</p> + + <p>Some here: their folds stand separate. But before</p> + + <p>His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades</p> + + <p>That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair</p> + + <p>For ever: for the low-lying meadows take</p> + + <p>The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet,</p> + + <p>To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine.</p> + + <p>Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry</p> + + <p>By the flowing river, for all eyes to see:</p> + + <p>Here, where the platans blossom all the year,</p> + + <p>And glimmers green the olive that enshrines</p> + + <p>Rural Apollo, most august of gods.</p> + + <p>Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us</p> + + <p>His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main</p> + + <p>His riches that are more than tongue may tell:</p> + + <p>Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd</p> + + <p>Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof</p> + + <p>Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet</p> + + <p>Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time.</p> + + <p>Yea, all these acres wise Augéas owns,</p> + + <p>These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green,</p> + + <p>Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap.</p> + + <p>Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont</p> + + <p>Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day.</p> + + <p>But prythee tell me thou—so shalt thou best</p> + + <p>Serve thine own interests—wherefore art thou + here?</p> + + <p>Seeking Augéas, or mayhap some slave</p> + + <p>That serves him? I can tell thee and I will</p> + + <p>All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood</p> + + <p>Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl:</p> + + <p>That read I in thy stateliness of form;</p> + + <p>The sons of heaven move thus among mankind."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus.</p> + + <p>"Yea, veteran, I would see the Epéan King</p> + + <p>Augéas; surely for this end I came.</p> + + <p>If he bides there amongst his citizens,</p> + + <p>Ruling the folk, determining the laws,</p> + + <p>Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide,</p> + + <p>Some honoured master-worker in the fields,</p> + + <p>Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply.</p> + + <p>Are not we made dependent each on each?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">To him the good old swain made answer thus:</p> + + <p>"Stranger, some god hath timed thy visit here,</p> + + <p>And given thee straightway all thy heart's desire.</p> + + <p>Hither Augéas, offspring of the Sun,</p> + + <p>Came, with young Phyleus splendid in his strength,</p> + + <p>But yesterday from the city, to review</p> + + <p>(Not in one day) his multitudinous wealth,</p> + + <p>Methinks e'en princes say within themselves,</p> + + <p>'The safeguard of the flock's the master's eye.'</p> + + <p>But haste, we'll seek him: to my own fold I</p> + + <p>Will pilot thee; there haply find the King."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He said and went in front: but pondered + much</p> + + <p>(As he surveyed the lion-skin and the club,</p> + + <p>Itself an armful) whence this stranger came;</p> + + <p>And fain had asked. But fear recalled the words</p> + + <p>That trembled on his lip, the fear to say</p> + + <p>Aught that his fiery friend might take amiss.</p> + + <p>For who can fathom all his fellow's mind?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">The dogs perceived their coming, yet far + off:</p> + + <p>They scented flesh, they heard the thud of feet:</p> + + <p>And with wild gallop, baying furiously,</p> + + <p>Ran at Amphitryon's son: but feebly whined</p> + + <p>And fawned upon the old man at his side.</p> + + <p>Then Heracles, just lifting from the ground</p> + + <p>A pebble, scared them home, and with hard words</p> + + <p>Cursed the whole pack; and having stopped their din</p> + + <p>(Inly rejoiced, nathless, to see them guard</p> + + <p>So well an absent master's house) he spake:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Lo! what a friend the royal gods have + given</p> + + <p>Man in the dog! A trusty servant he!</p> + + <p>Had he withal an understanding heart,</p> + + <p>To teach him when to rage and when forbear,</p> + + <p>What brute could claim like praise? But, lacking wit,</p> + + <p>'Tis but a passionate random-raving thing."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spake: the dogs ran scurrying to their + lairs.</p> + + <p>And now the sun wheeled round his westering car</p> + + <p>And led still evening on: from every field</p> + + <p>Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre.</p> + + <p>Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine</p> + + <p>Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven</p> + + <p>By stress of gales, the west or mighty north,</p> + + <p>Come up o'er all the heaven; and none may count</p> + + <p>And naught may stay them as they sweep through air;</p> + + <p>Such multitudes the storm's strength drives ahead,</p> + + <p>Such multitudes climb surging in the rear—</p> + + <p>So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove,</p> + + <p>And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed</p> + + <p>With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas</p> + + <p>Rang with their lowing. Soon enough the stalls</p> + + <p>Were populous with the laggard-footed kine,</p> + + <p>Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds.</p> + + <p>Then of that legion none stood idle, none</p> + + <p>Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do:</p> + + <p>But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs</p> + + <p>Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet:</p> + + <p>One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved,</p> + + <p>The longing young ones to the longing dams.</p> + + <p>One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese,</p> + + <p>Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine.</p> + + <p>Pacing from stall to stall, Augéas saw</p> + + <p>What revenue his herdsman brought him in.</p> + + <p>With him his son surveyed the royal wealth,</p> + + <p>And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles.</p> + + <p>Then, though the heart within him was as steel,</p> + + <p>Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon's son</p> + + <p>Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine;</p> + + <p>For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten,</p> + + <p>Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes:</p> + + <p>Such huge largess the Sun had given his child,</p> + + <p>First of mankind for multitude of flocks.</p> + + <p>The Sun himself gave increase day by day</p> + + <p>To his child's herds: whatever diseases spoil</p> + + <p>The farmer, came not there; his kine increased</p> + + <p>In multitude and value year by year:</p> + + <p>None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males.</p> + + <p>Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned,</p> + + <p>Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans,</p> + + <p>Sires of a race to be: and twelve besides</p> + + <p>Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun.</p> + + <p>Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved</p> + + <p>Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot.</p> + + <p>Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain</p> + + <p>They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields:</p> + + <p>And when from the dense jungle to the plain</p> + + <p>Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows;</p> + + <p>Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war.</p> + + <p>Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death,</p> + + <p>Foremost of all for mettle and for might</p> + + <p>And pride of heart loomed Phaeton: him the swains</p> + + <p>Regarded as a star; so bright he shone</p> + + <p>Among the herd, the cynosure of eyes.</p> + + <p>He, soon as he descried the sun-dried skin</p> + + <p>Of the grim lion, made at Heracles</p> + + <p>(Whose eye was on him)—fain to make his crest</p> + + <p>And sturdy brow acquainted with his flanks.</p> + + <p>Straight the prince grasped him with no tender grasp</p> + + <p>By the left horn, and bowed that giant bulk</p> + + <p>To earth, neck foremost: then, by pressure brought</p> + + <p>To bear upon his shoulder, forced him back.</p> + + <p>The web of muscles that enwraps the nerves</p> + + <p>Stood out from the brute's fore-arm plain to see.</p> + + <p>Marvelled the King, and Phyleus his brave son,</p> + + <p>At the strange prowess of Amphitryon's child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then townwards, leaving straight that rich + champaign,</p> + + <p>Stout Heracles his comrade, Phyleus fared;</p> + + <p>And soon as they had gained the paven road,</p> + + <p>Making their way hotfooted o'er a path</p> + + <p>(Not o'er-conspicuous in the dim green wood)</p> + + <p>That left the farm and threaded through the vines,</p> + + <p>Out-spake unto the child of Zeus most high,</p> + + <p>Who followed in his steps, Augéas' son,</p> + + <p>O'er his right shoulder glancing pleasantly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"O stranger, as some old familiar tale</p> + + <p>I seem to cast thy history in my mind.</p> + + <p>For there came one to Argos, young and tall,</p> + + <p>By birth a Greek from Helicè-on-seas,</p> + + <p>Who told this tale before a multitude:</p> + + <p>How that an Argive in his presence slew</p> + + <p>A fearful lion-beast, the dread and death</p> + + <p>Of herdsmen; which inhabited a den</p> + + <p>Or cavern by the grove of Nemean Zeus.</p> + + <p>He may have come from sacred Argos' self,</p> + + <p>Or Tiryns, or Mycenæ: what know I?</p> + + <p>But thus he told his tale, and said the slayer</p> + + <p>Was (if my memory serves me) Perseus' son.</p> + + <p>Methinks no islander had dared that deed</p> + + <p>Save thee: the lion's skin that wraps thy ribs</p> + + <p>Argues full well some gallant feat of arms.</p> + + <p>But tell me, warrior, first—that I may know</p> + + <p>If my prophetic soul speak truth or not—</p> + + <p>Art thou the man of whom that stranger Greek</p> + + <p>Spoke in my hearing? Have I guessed aright?</p> + + <p>How slew you single-handed that fell beast?</p> + + <p>How came it among rivered Nemea's glens?</p> + + <p>For none such monster could the eagerest eye</p> + + <p>Find in all Greece: Greece harbours bear and boar,</p> + + <p>And deadly wolf: but not this larger game.</p> + + <p>'Twas this that made his listeners marvel then:</p> + + <p>They deemed he told them travellers' tales, to win</p> + + <p>By random words applause from standers-by."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then Phyleus from the mid-road edged away,</p> + + <p>That both might walk abreast, and he might catch</p> + + <p>More at his ease what fell from Heracles:</p> + + <p>Who journeying now alongside thus began:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"On the prior matter, O Augéas' + child,</p> + + <p>Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright.</p> + + <p>But all that monster's history, how it fell,</p> + + <p>Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear,</p> + + <p>Save only whence it came: for none of all</p> + + <p>The Argive host could read that riddle right.</p> + + <p>Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows</p> + + <p>Resenting, had upon Phoroneus' realm</p> + + <p>Let loose this very scourge of humankind.</p> + + <p>On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood</p> + + <p>The brute ran riot: notably it cost</p> + + <p>Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold.</p> + + <p>And here Eurystheus bade me try my first</p> + + <p>Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing.</p> + + <p>So with my buxom bow and quiver lined</p> + + <p>With arrows I set forth: my left hand held</p> + + <p>My club, a beetling olive's stalwart trunk</p> + + <p>And shapely, still environed in its bark:</p> + + <p>This hand had torn from holiest Helicon</p> + + <p>The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots.</p> + + <p>And finding soon the lion's whereabouts,</p> + + <p>I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped</p> + + <p>The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death.</p> + + <p>And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing,</p> + + <p>In hopes to view him ere he spied out me.</p> + + <p>But midday came, and nowhere could I see</p> + + <p>One footprint of the beast or hear his roar:</p> + + <p>And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask,</p> + + <p>Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea;</p> + + <p>For wan dismay kept each man in his hut.</p> + + <p>Still on I footed, searching through and through</p> + + <p>The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw</p> + + <p>The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength.</p> + + <p>Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked</p> + + <p>At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane,</p> + + <p>Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip</p> + + <p>With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips.</p> + + <p>I, crouched among the shadows of the trees</p> + + <p>On the green hill-top, waited his approach,</p> + + <p>And as he came I aimed at his left flank.</p> + + <p>The barbèd shaft sped idly, nor could pierce</p> + + <p>The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass.</p> + + <p>He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head,</p> + + <p>And ran his eyes o'er all the vicinage,</p> + + <p>And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat.</p> + + <p>Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft,</p> + + <p>Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain.</p> + + <p>In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs</p> + + <p>Are seated: still the arrow sank not in,</p> + + <p>But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet.</p> + + <p>Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined,</p> + + <p>To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast</p> + + <p>Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides</p> + + <p>With his huge tail, and opened war at once.</p> + + <p>Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end</p> + + <p>With rage: his spine moved sinuous as a bow,</p> + + <p>Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin.</p> + + <p>And e'en as, when a chariot-builder bends</p> + + <p>With practised skill his shafts of splintered fig,</p> + + <p>Hot from the fire, to be his axle-wheels;</p> + + <p>Flies the tough-rinded sapling from the hands</p> + + <p>That shape it, at a bound recoiling far:</p> + + <p>So from far-off the dread beast, all of a heap,</p> + + <p>Sprang on me, hungering for my life-blood. I</p> + + <p>Thrust with one hand my arrows in his face</p> + + <p>And my doffed doublet, while the other raised</p> + + <p>My seasoned cudgel o'er his crest, and drave</p> + + <p>Full at his temples, breaking clean in twain</p> + + <p>On the fourfooted warrior's airy scalp</p> + + <p>My club; and ere he reached me, down he fell.</p> + + <p>Headlong he fell, and poised on tremulous feet</p> + + <p>Stood, his head wagging, and his eyes grown dim;</p> + + <p>For the shrewd stroke had shattered brain and bone.</p> + + <p>I, marking him beside himself with pain.</p> + + <p>Fell, ere recovering he should breathe again,</p> + + <p>At vantage on his solid sinewy neck,</p> + + <p>My bow and woven quiver thrown aside.</p> + + <p>With iron clasp I gripped him from the rear</p> + + <p>(His talons else had torn me) and, my foot</p> + + <p>Set on him, forced to earth by dint of heel</p> + + <p>His hinder parts, my flanks entrenched the while</p> + + <p>Behind his fore-arm; till his thews were stretched</p> + + <p>And strained, and on his haunches stark he stood</p> + + <p>And lifeless; hell received his monstrous ghost.</p> + + <p>Then with myself I counselled how to strip</p> + + <p>From off the dead beast's limbs his shaggy hide,</p> + + <p>A task full onerous, since I found it proof</p> + + <p>Against all blows of steel or stone or wood.</p> + + <p>Some god at last inspired me with the thought,</p> + + <p>With his own claws to rend the lion's skin.</p> + + <p>With these I flayed him soon, and sheathed and armed</p> + + <p>My limbs against the shocks of murderous war.</p> + + <p>Thus, sir, the Nemean lion met his end,</p> + + <p>Erewhile the constant curse of beast and man."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Bacchanals. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Agavè of the vermeil-tinted cheek</p> + + <p class="i4">And Ino and Autonoä marshalled erst</p> + + <p class="i2">Three bands of revellers under one + hill-peak.</p> + + <p class="i4">They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage + first,</p> + + <p class="i2">Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel;</p> + + <p>And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden + fell:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">To Semelè three, to Dionysus nine.</p> + + <p class="i4">Next, from a vase drew offerings subtly + wrought,</p> + + <p class="i2">And prayed and placed them on each fresh green + shrine;</p> + + <p class="i4">So by the god, who loved such tribute, + taught.</p> + + <p class="i2">Perched on the sheer cliff, Pentheus could + espy</p> + + <p>All, in a mastick hoar ensconced that grew thereby.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Autonoä marked him, and with, frightful cries</p> + + <p class="i4">Flew to make havoc of those mysteries weird</p> + + <p class="i2">That must not be profaned by vulgar eyes.</p> + + <p class="i4">Her frenzy frenzied all. Then Pentheus + feared</p> + + <p class="i2">And fled: and in his wake those damsels + three,</p> + + <p>Each with her trailing robe up-gathered to the knee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"What will ye, dames," quoth Pentheus. "Thou + shalt guess</p> + + <p class="i4">At what we mean, untold," Autonoä + said.</p> + + <p class="i2">Agavè moaned—so moans a + lioness</p> + + <p class="i4">Over her young one—as she clutched his + head:</p> + + <p class="i2">While Ino on the carcass fairly laid</p> + + <p>Her heel, and wrenched away shoulder and + shoulder-blade.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Autonoä's turn came next: and what + remained</p> + + <p class="i4">Of flesh their damsels did among them + share,</p> + + <p class="i2">And back to Thebes they came all + carnage-stained,</p> + + <p class="i4">And planted not a king but aching there.</p> + + <p class="i2">Warned by this tale, let no man dare defy</p> + + <p>Great Bacchus; lest a death more awful he should die,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And when he counts nine years or scarcely + ten,</p> + + <p class="i4">Rush to his ruin. May I pass my days</p> + + <p>Uprightly, and be loved of upright men!</p> + + <p class="i4">And take this motto, all who covet praise:</p> + + <p class="i2">('Twas Ægis-bearing Zeus that spake it + first:)</p> + + <p>'The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now bless ye Bacchus, whom on mountain + snows,</p> + + <p class="i4">Prisoned in his thigh till then, the Almighty + laid.</p> + + <p class="i2">And bless ye fairfaced Semelè, and + those</p> + + <p class="i4">Her sisters, hymned of many a hero-maid,</p> + + <p class="i2">Who wrought, by Bacchus fired, a deed which + none</p> + + <p>May gainsay—who shall blame that which a god hath + done?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVII.</h2><br> + + <center> + A Countryman's Wooing. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. A MAIDEN</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>How fell sage Helen? through a swain like thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay the true Helen's just now kissing me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Satyr, ne'er boast: 'what's idler than a kiss?'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Yet in such pleasant idling there is bliss.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>I'll wash my mouth: where go thy kisses then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Wash, and return it—to be kissed again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Go kiss your oxen, and not unwed maids.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Ne'er boast; for beauty is a dream that fades.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Past grapes are grapes: dead roses keep their smell.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Come to yon olives: I have a tale to tell.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Not I: you fooled me with smooth words before.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Come to yon elms, and hear me pipe once more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Pipe to yourself: your piping makes me cry.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>A maid, and flout the Paphian? Fie, oh fie!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>She's naught to me, if Artemis' favour last.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Hush, ere she smite you and entrap you fast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And let her smite me, trap me as she will!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Your Artemis shall be your saviour still?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Unhand me! What, again? I'll tear your lip.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Can you, could damsel e'er, give Love the slip?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>You are his bondslave, but not I by Pan!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I doubt he'll give thee to a worser man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Many have wooed me, but I fancied none.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Till among many came the destined <i>one</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Wedlock is woe. Dear lad, what can I do?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Woe it is not, but joy and dancing too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Wives dread their husbands: so I've heard it said.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay, they rule o'er them. What does woman dread?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Then children—Eileithya's dart is keen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>But the deliverer, Artemis, is your queen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And bearing children all our grace destroys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Bear them and shine more lustrous in your boys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Should I say yea, what dower awaits me then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Thine are my cattle, thine this glade and glen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Swear not to wed, then leave me in my woe?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Not I by Pan, though thou should'st bid me go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And shall a cot be mine, with farm and fold!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Thy cot's half-built, fair wethers range this wold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>What, what to my old father must I say?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Soon as he hears my name he'll not say nay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Speak it: by e'en a name we're oft beguiled.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I'm Daphnis, Lycid's and Nomæa's child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Well-born indeed: and not less so am I.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I know—Menalcas' daughter may look high.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>That grove, where stands your sheepfold, shew me + please.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay look, how green, how tall my cypress-trees.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Graze, goats: I go to learn the herdsman's trade.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Feed, bulls: I shew my copses to my maid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Satyr, what mean you? You presume o'ermuch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This waist is round, and pleasant to the touch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>By Pan, I'm like to swoon! Unhand me pray!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Why be so timorous? Pretty coward, stay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>This bank is wet: you've soiled my pretty gown.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>See, a soft fleece to guard it I put down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And you've purloined my sash. What can this mean?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This sash I'll offer to the Paphian queen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Stay, miscreant—some one comes—I heard a + noise.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>'Tis but the green trees whispering of our joys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>You've torn my plaidie, and I am half unclad.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Anon I'll give thee a yet ampler plaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Generous just now, you'll one day grudge me bread.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Ah! for thy sake my life-blood I could shed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Artemis, forgive! Thy eremite breaks her vow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Love, and Love's mother, claim a calf and cow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>A woman I depart, my girlhood o'er.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Be wife, be mother; but a girl no more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus interchanging whispered talk the pair,</p> + + <p>Their faces all aglow, long lingered there.</p> + + <p>At length the hour arrived when they must part.</p> + + <p>With downcast eyes, but sunshine in her heart,</p> + + <p>She went to tend her flock; while Daphnis ran</p> + + <p>Back to his herded bulls, a happy man.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Distaff. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's + gift</p> + + <p>To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household + thrift,</p> + + <p>Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a + plain</p> + + <p>Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphroditè's + hallowed fane.</p> + + <p>Thither ask I Zeus to waft me, fain to see my old friend's + face,</p> + + <p>Nicias, o'er whose birth presided every passion-breathing + Grace;</p> + + <p>Fain to meet his answering welcome; and anon deposit + thee</p> + + <p>In his lady's hands, thou marvel of laborious ivory.</p> + + <p>Many a manly robe ye'll fashion, much translucent maiden's + gear;</p> + + <p>Nay, should e'er the fleecy mothers twice within the + selfsame year</p> + + <p>Yield their wool in yonder pasture, Theugenis of the + dainty feet</p> + + <p>Would perform the double labour: matron's cares to her are + sweet.</p> + + <p>To an idler or a trifler I had verily been loth</p> + + <p>To resign thee, O my distaff, for the same land bred us + both:</p> + + <p>In the land Corinthian Archias built aforetime, thou hadst + birth,</p> + + <p>In our island's core and marrow, whence have sprung the + kings of earth:</p> + + <p>To the home I now transfer thee of a man who knows full + well</p> + + <p>Every craft whereby men's bodies dire diseases may + repel:</p> + + <p>There to live in sweet Miletus. Lady of the Distaff + she</p> + + <p>Shall be named, and oft reminded of her poet-friend by + thee:</p> + + <p>Men shall look on thee and murmur to each other, 'Lo! how + small</p> + + <p>Was the gift, and yet how precious! Friendship's gifts are + priceless all.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Loves. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>'Sincerity comes with the wine-cup,' my dear:</p> + + <p>Then now o'er our wine-cups let us be sincere.</p> + + <p>My soul's treasured secret to you I'll impart;</p> + + <p>It is this; that I never won fairly your heart.</p> + + <p>One half of my life, I am conscious, has flown;</p> + + <p>The residue lives on your image alone.</p> + + <p>You are kind, and I dream I'm in paradise then;</p> + + <p>You are angry, and lo! all is darkness again.</p> + + <p>It is right to torment one who loves you? Obey</p> + + <p>Your elder; 'twere best; and you'll thank me one day.</p> + + <p>Settle down in one nest on one tree (taking care</p> + + <p>That no cruel reptile can clamber up there);</p> + + <p>As it is with your lovers you're fairly perplext;</p> + + <p>One day you choose one bough, another the next.</p> + + <p>Whoe'er at all struck by your graces appears,</p> + + <p>Is more to you straight than the comrade of years;</p> + + <p>While he's like the friend of a day put aside;</p> + + <p>For the breath of your nostrils, I think, is your + pride.</p> + + <p>Form a friendship, for life, with some likely young + lad;</p> + + <p>So doing, in honour your name shall be had.</p> + + <p>Nor would Love use you hardly; though lightly can he</p> + + <p>Bind strong men in chains, and has wrought upon me</p> + + <p>Till the steel is as wax—but I'm longing to + press</p> + + <p>That exquisite mouth with a clinging caress.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">No? Reflect that you're older each year than + the last;</p> + + <p>That we all must grow gray, and the wrinkles come + fast.</p> + + <p>Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides</p> + + <p>Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides:</p> + + <p>Nor are men over keen to catch charms as they fly.</p> + + <p>Think of this and be gentle, be loving as I:</p> + + <p>When your years are maturer, we two shall be then</p> + + <p>The pair in the Iliad over again.</p> + + <p>But if you consign all my words to the wind</p> + + <p>And say, 'Why annoy me? you're not to my mind,'</p> + + <p>I—who lately in quest of the Gold Fruit had sped</p> + + <p>For your sake, or of Cerberus guard of the dead—</p> + + <p>Though you called me, would ne'er stir a foot from my + door,</p> + + <p>For my love and my sorrow thenceforth will be o'er.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXX.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Death of Adonis. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Cythera saw Adonis</p> + + <p class="i2">And knew that he was dead;</p> + + <p>She marked the brow, all grisly now,</p> + + <p class="i2">The cheek no longer red;</p> + + <p>And "Bring the boar before me"</p> + + <p class="i2">Unto her Loves she said.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Forthwith her winged attendants</p> + + <p class="i2">Ranged all the woodland o'er,</p> + + <p>And found and bound in fetters</p> + + <p class="i2">Threefold the grisly boar:</p> + + <p>One dragged him at a rope's end</p> + + <p class="i2">E'en as a vanquished foe;</p> + + <p>One went behind and drave him</p> + + <p class="i2">And smote him with his bow:</p> + + <p>On paced the creature feebly;</p> + + <p class="i2">He feared Cythera so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>To him said Aphroditè:</p> + + <p class="i2">"So, worst of beasts, 'twas you</p> + + <p>Who rent that thigh asunder,</p> + + <p class="i2">Who him that loved me slew?"</p> + + <p>And thus the beast made answer:</p> + + <p class="i2">"Cythera, hear me swear</p> + + <p>By thee, by him that loved thee,</p> + + <p class="i2">And by these bonds I wear,</p> + + <p>And them before whose hounds I ran—</p> + + <p>I meant no mischief to the man</p> + + <p class="i2">Who seemed to thee so fair.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As on a carven statue</p> + + <p class="i2">Men gaze, I gazed on him;</p> + + <p>I seemed on fire with mad desire</p> + + <p class="i2">To kiss that offered limb:</p> + + <p>My ruin, Aphroditè,</p> + + <p class="i2">Thus followed from my whim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Now therefore take and punish</p> + + <p class="i2">And fairly cut away</p> + + <p>These all unruly tusks of mine;</p> + + <p class="i2">For to what end serve they?</p> + + <p>And if thine indignation</p> + + <p class="i2">Be not content with this,</p> + + <p>Cut off the mouth that ventured</p> + + <p class="i2">To offer him a kiss"—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But Aphroditè pitied</p> + + <p class="i2">And bade them loose his chain.</p> + + <p>The boar from that day forward</p> + + <p class="i2">Still followed in her train;</p> + + <p>Nor ever to the wildwood</p> + + <p class="i2">Attempted to return,</p> + + <p>But in the focus of Desire</p> + + <p class="i2">Preferred to burn and burn.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXXI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXXI.</h2><br> + + <center> + Loves. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills!</p> + + <p>Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom + fills.</p> + + <p>Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest + swain</p> + + <p>Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in + vain.</p> + + <p>Yet doth now this thing of evil my longsuffering heart + beguile,</p> + + <p>Though the utmost she vouchsafes me is the shadow of a + smile:</p> + + <p>And I soon shall know no respite, have no solace e'en in + sleep.</p> + + <p>Yesterday I watched her pass me, and from down-dropt + eyelids peep</p> + + <p>At the face she dared not gaze on—every moment + blushing more—</p> + + <p>And my love took hold upon me as it never took before.</p> + + <p>Home I went a wounded creature, with a gnawing at my + heart;</p> + + <p>And unto the soul within me did my bitterness impart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Soul, why deal with me in this wise? Shall thy + folly know no bound?</p> + + <p>Canst thou look upon these temples, with their locks of + silver crowned,</p> + + <p>And still deem thee young and shapely? Nay, my soul, let + us be sage;</p> + + <p>Act as they that have already sipped the wisdom-cup of + age.</p> + + <p>Men have loved and have forgotten. Happiest of all is + he</p> + + <p>To the lover's woes a stranger, from the lover's fetters + free:</p> + + <p>Lightly his existence passes, as a wild-deer fleeting + fast:</p> + + <p>Tamed, it may be, he shall voyage in a maiden's wake at + last:</p> + + <p>Still to-day 'tis his to revel with his mates in boyhood's + flowers.</p> + + <p>As to thee, thy brain and marrow passion evermore + devours,</p> + + <p>Prey to memories that haunt thee e'en in visions of the + night;</p> + + <p>And a year shall scarcely pluck thee from thy miserable + plight."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Such and divers such reproaches did I heap upon + my soul.</p> + + <p>And my soul in turn made answer:—"Whoso deems he can + control</p> + + <p>Wily love, the same shall lightly gaze upon the stars of + heaven</p> + + <p>And declare by what their number overpasses seven times + seven.</p> + + <p>Will I, nill I, I may never from my neck his yoke + unloose.</p> + + <p>So, my friend, a god hath willed it: he whose plots could + outwit Zeus,</p> + + <p>And the queen whose home is Cyprus. I, a leaflet of + to-day,</p> + + <p>I whose breath is in my nostrils, am I wrong to own his + sway?"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="FRAGMENT_PROM_THE_quotBERENICEquot"></a> + + <h2>FRAGMENT PROM THE "BERENICE."</h2><br> + <br> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal,</p> + + <p class="i2">For bare existence harrowing yonder mere,</p> + + <p>To this our Lady slay at even-fall</p> + + <p class="i2">That holy fish, which, since it hath no + peer</p> + + <p class="i2">For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about + here</p> + + <p>Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down</p> + + <p class="i2">Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear</p> + + <p>To find them empty * * * *</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="EPIGRAMS_AND_EPITAPHS"></a> + + <h2>EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS.</h2><br> + + <h3><a name="EI"></a>I.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon</p> + + <p>Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon:</p> + + <p>Thine, Pythian Pæan, that dark-foliaged bay;</p> + + <p>With such thy Delphian crags thy front array.</p> + + <p>This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine,</p> + + <p>Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="II"></a>II.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>To Pan doth white-limbed Daphnis offer here</p> + + <p class="i2">(He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's + flute)</p> + + <p>His reeds of many a stop, his barbèd spear,</p> + + <p class="i2">And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of + fruit.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="III"></a>III.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Daphnis, thou slumberest on the leaf-strown + lea,</p> + + <p class="i4">Thy frame at rest, thy springes newly + spread</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the fell-side. But two are hunting + thee:</p> + + <p class="i4">Pan, and Priapus with his fair young head</p> + + <p class="i2">Hung with wan ivy. See! they come, they + leap</p> + + <p>Into thy lair—fly, fly,—shake off the coil of + sleep!</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="IV"></a>IV.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been + set:</p> + + <p>It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear;</p> + + <p class="i2">But I think there is life in the patriarch + yet.</p> + + <p>He is handsomely shrined within fair chapel-walls;</p> + + <p class="i2">Where, fringed with sweet cypress and myrtle + and bay,</p> + + <p>A stream ever-fresh from the rock's hollow falls,</p> + + <p class="i2">And the ringleted vine her ripe store doth + display:</p> + + <p>And the blackbirds, those shrill-piping songsters of + spring,</p> + + <p class="i2">Wake the echoes with wild inarticulate + song:</p> + + <p>And the notes of the nightingale plaintively ring,</p> + + <p class="i2">As she pours from her dun throat her lay sweet + and strong.</p> + + <p>Sitting there, to Priapus, the gracious one, pray</p> + + <p class="i2">That the lore he has taught me I soon may + unlearn:</p> + + <p>Say I'll give him a kid, and in case he says nay</p> + + <p class="i2">To this offer, three victims to him will I + burn;</p> + + <p>A kid, a fleeced ram, and a lamb sleek and fat;</p> + + <p>He will listen, mayhap, to my prayers upon that.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="V"></a>V.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Prythee, sing something sweet to me—you that can + play</p> + + <p>First and second at once. Then I too will essay</p> + + <p>To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute</p> + + <p>Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute.</p> + + <p>In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep,</p> + + <p>And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="VI"></a>VI.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes?</p> + + <p class="i2">Thy kid was a fair one, I own:</p> + + <p>But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize,</p> + + <p class="i2">And to darkness her spirit hath flown.</p> + + <p>Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their + cries</p> + + <p class="i2">There is left of her never a bone.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3><a name="VII"></a>VII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of Æsculapius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Far as Miletus travelled Pæan's son;</p> + + <p>There to be guest of Nicias, guest of one</p> + + <p>Who heals all sickness; and who still reveres</p> + + <p>Him, for his sake this cedarn image rears.</p> + + <p>The sculptor's hand right well did Nicias fill;</p> + + <p>And here the sculptor lavished all his skill.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="VIII"></a>VIII.</h3> + + <center> + Ortho's Epitaph. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge:</p> + + <p>Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night.</p> + + <p>I did so and died. My possessions were large;</p> + + <p>Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me + quite.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="IX"></a>IX.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Cleonicus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea</p> + + <p class="i2">Out of season: our tenure of life is but + frail.</p> + + <p>Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he</p> + + <p class="i2">From the valleys of Syria, with many a + bale:</p> + + <p>With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem</p> + + <p class="i2">When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with + them.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="X"></a>X.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of the Muses. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>To you this marble statue, maids divine,</p> + + <p>Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine.</p> + + <p>Your votary all admit him: by this skill</p> + + <p>He gat him fame: and you he honours still.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XI"></a>XI.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Eusthenes. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies,</p> + + <p>Who could tell all your thoughts by a glance at your + eyes.</p> + + <p>A stranger, with strangers his honoured bones rest;</p> + + <p>They valued sweet song, and he gave them his best.</p> + + <p>All the honours of death doth the poet possess:</p> + + <p>If a small one, they mourned for him nevertheless.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XII"></a>XII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Tripod Erected by Damoteles to Bacchus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The precentor Damoteles, Bacchus, exalts</p> + + <p class="i2">Your tripod, and, sweetest of deities, you.</p> + + <p>He was champion of men, if his boyhood had faults;</p> + + <p class="i2">And he ever loved honour and seemliness + too.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIII"></a>XIII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of Anacreon. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>This statue, stranger, scan with earnest gaze;</p> + + <p class="i2">And, home returning, say "I have beheld</p> + + <p>Anacreon, in Teos; him whose lays</p> + + <p class="i2">Were all unmatched among our sires of eld."</p> + + <p>Say further: "Youth and beauty pleased him best;"</p> + + <p class="i2">And all the man will fairly stand exprest.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIV"></a>XIV.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Eurymedon. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Thou hast gone to the grave, and abandoned thy son</p> + + <p>Yet a babe, thy own manhood but scarcely begun.</p> + + <p>Thou art throned among gods: and thy country will take</p> + + <p>Thy child to her heart, for his brave father's sake.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XV"></a>XV.</h3> + + <center> + Another. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave</p> + + <p>Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave,</p> + + <p>By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.'</p> + + <p>The turf should lie light on so sacred a head.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVI"></a>XVI.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth;</p> + + <p>Not that base one who's wooed by the children of + earth.</p> + + <p>'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all,</p> + + <p>Chrysogonè, placed her in Amphicles' hall:</p> + + <p>Chrysogonè's heart, as her children, was his,</p> + + <p>And each year they knew better what happiness is.</p> + + <p>For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their + friend;</p> + + <p>Religion is policy too in the end.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVII"></a>XVII.</h3> + + <center> + To Epicharmus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was + he</p> + + <p class="i2">The sire of Comedy.</p> + + <p>Of his proper self bereavèd, Bacchus, unto thee we + rear</p> + + <p class="i2">His brazen image here;</p> + + <p>We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we + can</p> + + <p class="i2">Do for our countryman,</p> + + <p>Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample + store</p> + + <p class="i2">Of legendary lore,</p> + + <p>Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' + life, he spake:</p> + + <p class="i2">We honour him for their sake.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse</p> + + <p class="i2">This stone—inscribed <i>To + Cleita</i>—reared in the midhighway.</p> + + <p class="i2">Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse;</p> + + <p>Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this + day?</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIX"></a>XIX.</h3> + + <center> + To Archilochus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder + days,</p> + + <p class="i4">By east and west</p> + + <p class="i4">Alike's confest</p> + + <p class="i2">The mighty lyrist's praise.</p> + + <p>Delian Apollo loved him well, and well the + sister-choir:</p> + + <p class="i4">His songs were fraught</p> + + <p class="i4">With subtle thought,</p> + + <p class="i2">And matchless was his lyre.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XX"></a>XX.</h3> + + <center> + Under a Statue of Peisander, WHO WROTE THE LABOURS OF HERACLES. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>He whom ye gaze on was the first</p> + + <p>That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed</p> + + <p>Of him whose arm was swift to smite,</p> + + <p>Who dared the lion to the fight:</p> + + <p>That tale, so strange, so manifold,</p> + + <p>Peisander of Cameirus told.</p> + + <p>For this good work, thou may'st be sure,</p> + + <p class="i2">His country placed him here,</p> + + <p>In solid brass that shall endure</p> + + <p>Through many a month and year.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XXI"></a>XXI.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Hipponax. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Behold Hipponax' burialplace,</p> + + <p class="i2">A true bard's grave.</p> + + <p>Approach it not, if you're a base</p> + + <p class="i2">And base-born knave.</p> + + <p>But if your sires were honest men</p> + + <p class="i2">And unblamed you,</p> + + <p>Sit down thereon serenely then,</p> + + <p class="i2">And eke sleep too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Tuneful Hipponax rests him here.</p> + + <p>Let no base rascal venture near.</p> + + <p>Ye who rank high in birth and mind</p> + + <p>Sit down—and sleep, if so inclined.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XXII"></a>XXII.</h3> + + <center> + On his own Book. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong</p> + + <p>To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song.</p> + + <p>I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair,</p> + + <p>And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11533 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7c2e14 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11533 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11533) diff --git a/old/11533-8.txt b/old/11533-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dd7fb5c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5021 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Theocritus + +Author: Theocritus + +Release Date: March 10, 2004 [EBook #11533] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + +THEOCRITUS + +_TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE_. + +BY + +C.S. CALVERLEY, + +_LATE FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE_. + +AUTHOR OF "FLY LEAVES," ETC. + +THIRD EDITION. + + + + +PREFACE. + +I had intended translating all or nearly all these Idylls into blank +verse, as the natural equivalent of Greek or of Latin hexameters; only +deviating into rhyme where occasion seemed to demand it. But I found +that other metres had their special advantages: the fourteen-syllable +line in particular has that, among others, of containing about the same +number of syllables as an ordinary line of Theocritus. And there is also +no doubt something gained by variety. + +Several recent writers on the subject have laid down that every +translation of Greek poetry, especially bucolic poetry, must be in rhyme +of some sort. But they have seldom stated, and it is hard to see, why. +There is no rhyme in the original, and _primâ facie_ should be none in +the translation. Professor Blackie has, it is true, pointed out the +"assonances, alliterations, and rhymes," which are found in more or less +abundance in Ionic Greek.[A] These may of course be purely accidental, +like the hexameters in Livy or the blank-verse lines in Mr. Dickens's +prose: but accidental or not (it may be said) they are there, and ought +to be recognised. May we not then recognise them by introducing similar +assonances, etc., here and there into the English version? or by +availing ourselves of what Professor Blackie again calls attention to, +the "compensating powers"[B] of English? I think with him that it was +hard to speak of our language as one which "transforms _boos megaloio +boeién_ into 'great ox's hide.'" Such phrases as 'The Lord is a man of +war,' 'The trumpet spake not to the armed throng,' are to my ear quite +as grand as Homer: and it would be equally fair to ask what we are to +make of a language which transforms Milton's line into [Greek: ê +shalpigx ohy proshephê ton hôplismhenon hochlon.][C] But be this as it +may, these phenomena are surely too rare and too arbitrary to be +adequately represented by any regularly recurring rhyme: and the +question remains, what is there in the unrhymed original to which rhyme +answers? + +To me its effect is to divide the verse into couplets, triplets, or (if +the word may include them all) _stanzas_ of some kind. Without rhyme we +have no apparent means of conveying the effect of stanzas. There are of +course devices such as repeating a line or part of a line at stated +intervals, as is done in 'Tears, idle tears' and elsewhere: but clearly +none of these would be available to a translator. Where therefore he has +to express stanzas, it is easy to see that rhyme may be admissible and +even necessary. Pope's couplet may (or may not) stand for elegiacs, and +the _In Memoriam_ stanza for some one of Horace's metres. Where the +heroes of Virgil's Eclogues sing alternately four lines each, Gray's +quatrain seems to suggest itself: and where a similar case occurs in +these Idylls (as for instance in the ninth) I thought it might be met by +taking whatever received English stanza was nearest the required length. +Pope's couplet again may possibly best convey the pomposity of some +Idylls and the point of others. And there may be divers considerations +of this kind. But, speaking generally, where the translator has not to +intimate stanzas--where he has on the contrary to intimate that there +are none--rhyme seems at first sight an intrusion and a _suggestio +falsi_. + +No doubt (as has been observed) what 'Pastorals' we have are mostly +written in what is called the heroic measure. But the reason is, I +suppose, not far to seek. Dryden and Pope wrote 'heroics,' not from any +sense of their fitness for bucolic poetry, but from a sense of their +universal fitness: and their followers copied them. But probably no +scholar would affirm that any poem, original or translated, by Pope or +Dryden or any of their school, really resembles in any degree the +bucolic poetry of the Greeks. Mr. Morris, whose poems appear to me to +resemble it more almost than anything I have ever seen, of course writes +what is technically Pope's metre, and equally of course is not of Pope's +school. Whether or no Pope and Dryden _intended_ to resemble the old +bucolic poets in style is, to say the least, immaterial. If they did +not, there is no reason whatever why any of us who do should adopt +their metre: if they did and failed, there is every reason why we should +select a different one. + +Professor Conington has adduced one cogent argument against blank verse: +that is, that hardly any of us can write it.[D] But if this is so--if +the 'blank verse' which we write is virtually prose in disguise--the +addition of rhyme would only make it rhymed prose, and we should be as +far as ever from "verse really deserving the name."[E] Unless (which I +can hardly imagine) the mere incident of 'terminal consonance' can +constitute that verse which would not be verse independently, this +argument is equally good against attempting verse of any kind: we should +still be writing disguised, and had better write undisguised, prose. +Prose translations are of course tenable, and are (I am told) advocated +by another very eminent critic. These considerations against them occur +to one: that, among the characteristics of his original which the +translator is bound to preserve, one is that he wrote metrically; and +that the prattle which passes muster, and sounds perhaps rather pretty +than otherwise, in metre, would in plain prose be insufferable. Very +likely some exceptional sort of prose may be meant, which would dispose +of all such difficulties: but this would be harder for an ordinary +writer to evolve out of his own brain, than to construct any species of +verse for which he has at least a model and a precedent. + +These remarks are made to shew that my metres were not selected, as it +might appear, at hap-hazard. Metre is not so unimportant as to justify +that. For the rest, I have used Briggs's edition[F] (_Poetæ Bucolici +Græci_), and have never, that I am aware of, taken refuge in any various +reading where I could make any sense at all of the text as given by him. +Sometimes I have been content to put down what I felt was a wrong +rendering rather than omit; but only in cases where the original was +plainly corrupt, and all suggested emendations seemed to me hopelessly +wide of the mark. What, for instance, may be the true meaning of +[Greek: bolbhost tist kochlhiast] in the fourteenth Idyll I have no +idea. It is not very important. And no doubt the sense of the last two +lines of the "_Death of Adonis_" is very unlikely to be what I have made +it. But no suggestion that I met with seemed to me satisfactory or even +plausible: and in this and a few similar cases I have put down what +suited the context. Occasionally also, as in the Idyll here printed +last--the one lately discovered by Bergk, which I elucidated by the +light of Fritzsche's conjectures--I have availed myself of an opinion +which Professor Conington somewhere expresses, to the effect that, where +two interpretations are tenable, it is lawful to accept for the purposes +of translation the one you might reject as a commentator. [Greek: +tetootaiost] has I dare say nothing whatever to do with 'quartan fever.' + +On one point, rather a minor one, I have ventured to dissent from +Professor Blackie and others: namely, in retaining the Greek, instead of +adopting the Roman, nomenclature. Professor Blackie says[G] that there +are some men by whom "it is esteemed a grave offence to call Jupiter +Jupiter," which begs the question: and that Jove "is much more musical" +than Zeus, which begs another. Granting (what might be questioned) that +_Zeus, Aphrodite_, and _Eros_ are as absolutely the same individuals +with _Jupiter, Venus_, and _Cupid_ as _Odysseus_ undoubtedly is with +_Ulysses_--still I cannot see why, in making a version of (say) +Theocritus, one should not use by way of preference those names by which +he invariably called them, and which are characteristic of him: why, in +turning a Greek author into English, we should begin by turning all the +proper names into Latin. Professor Blackie's authoritative statement[H] +that "there are whole idylls in Theocritus which would sound ridiculous +in any other language than that of Tam o' Shanter" I accept of course +unhesitatingly, and should like to see it acted upon by himself or any +competent person. But a translator is bound to interpret all as best he +may: and an attempt to write Tam o' Shanter's language by one who was +not Tam o' Shanter's countryman would, I fear, result in something more +ridiculous still. + +C.S.C. + +*** For Cometas, in Idyll V., read _Comatas_. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., pp. 413, 414.] + +[Footnote B: _Ibid_., page 377, etc.] + +[Footnote C: Professor Kingsley.] + +[Footnote D: Preface to CONINGTON'S _Æneid_, page ix.] + +[Footnote E: _Ibid_.] + +[Footnote F: Since writing the above lines I have had the advantage of +seeing Mr. Paley's _Theocritus_, which was not out when I made my +version.] + +[Footnote G: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Preface, pp. xii., xiii.] + +[Footnote H: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., page 384.] + + + + +CONTENTS. + + IDYLL I. + THE DEATH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL II. + THE SORCERESS + + IDYLL III. + THE SERENADE + + IDYLL IV. + THE HERDSMAN + + IDYLL V. + THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS + + IDYLL VI. + THE DRAWN BATTLE + + IDYLL VII. + HARVEST-HOME + + IDYLL VIII. + THE TRIUMPH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL IX. + PASTORALS + + IDYLL X. + THE TWO WORKMEN + + IDYLL XI. + THE GIANT'S WOOING + + IDYLL XII. + THE COMRADES + + IDYLL XIII. + HYLAS + + IDYLL XIV. + THE LOVE OF ÆSCHINES + + IDYLL XV. + THE FESTIVAL OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XVI. + THE VALUE OF SONG + + IDYLL XVII. + THE PRAISE OF PTOLEMY + + IDYLL XVIII. + THE BRIDAL OF HELEN + + IDYLL XIX. + LOVE STEALING HONEY + + IDYLL XX. + TOWN AND COUNTRY + + IDYLL XXI. + THE FISHERMEN + + IDYLL XXII. + THE SONS OF LEDA + + IDYLL XXIII. + LOVE AVENGED + + IDYLL XXIV. + THE INFANT HERACLES + + IDYLL XXV. + HERACLES THE LION SLAYER + + IDYLL XXVI. + THE BACCHANALS + + IDYLL XXVII. + A COUNTRYMAN'S WOOING + + IDYLL XXVIII. + THE DISTAFF + + IDYLL XXIX. + LOVES + + IDYLL XXX. + THE DEATH OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XXXI. + LOVES + + FRAGMENT FROM THE "BERENICE" + + EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS:-- + + I.--VI. + VII.--FOR A STATUE OF ÆSCULAPIUS + VIII.--ORTHO'S EPITAPH + IX.--EPITAPH OF CLEONICUS + X.--FOR A STATUE OF THE MUSES + XI.--EPITAPH OF EUSTHENES + XII.--FOR A TRIPOD ERECTED BY DAMOTELES TO BACCHUS + XIII.--FOR A STATUE OF ANACREON + XIV.--EPITAPH OF EURYMEDON + XV.--ANOTHER + XVI.--FOR A STATUE OF THE HEAVENLY APHRODITE + XVII.--To EPICHARMUS + XVIII.--EPITAPH OF CLEITA, NURSE OF MEDEIUS + XIX.--TO ARCHILOCHUS + XX.--UNDER A STATUE OF PEISANDER + XXI.--EPITAPH OF HIPPONAX + XXII.--ON HIS OWN BOOK + + + + +IDYLL I. + + +The Death of Daphnis. + +_THYRSIS. A GOATHERD._ + + THYRSIS. + Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes + Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet + Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone. + Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat. + Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid; + And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids. + + GOATHERD. + Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams + Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag. + If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe, + Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose + The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe. + + THYRSIS. + Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here + Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade, + And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats. + + GOATHERD. + I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe + At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour + Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he; + Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel. + But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes; + High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy: + Then rest we in the shadow of the elm + Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs. + There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat, + Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him + Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first, + To milk, ay thrice, a goat--she suckles twins, + Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;-- + Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured, + Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet + 0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs + About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays + Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts + Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears + A damsel ('tis a miracle of art) + In robe and snood: and suitors at her side + With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left, + Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart. + She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now + Her chance regards on that: they, all for love + Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost. + Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands + On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains + Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils + Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame + Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck + (In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell. + Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends + Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes; + A boy sits on the rude fence watching them. + Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes + One ranging steals the ripest; one assails + With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon + Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile + With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap, + And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip, + Little he cares, enamoured of his toy. + The cup is hung all round with lissom briar, + Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight. + It was a ferryman's of Calydon: + A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese. + Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still + It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou, + If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays. + I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own + In the dim land where all things are forgot. + + THYSIS [_sings_]. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I. + Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined? + In fair Penëus' or in Pindus' glens? + For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt, + Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him; + The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The kine and oxen stood around his feet, + The heifers and the calves wailed all for him. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + First from the mountain Hermes came, and said, + "Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?" + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came; + All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came + And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid + Foots it round every pool and every grove, + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_) + "O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee; + Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called. + With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids + Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they: + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_): + "With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh + Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee." + Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone + His bitter portion, till the fatal end. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came Aphroditè, smiles on her sweet face, + False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake: + "So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love! + But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Then "Ruthless Aphroditè," Daphnis said, + "Accursed Aphroditè, foe to man! + Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set? + Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say) + And Aphroditè--to Anchises fly: + There are oak-forests; here but galingale, + And bees that make a music round the hives. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks + And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain + The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.' + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear! + Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen + Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell, + And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine, + Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags + Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Mænalus, + Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now + Rhium and Helicè, and the mountain-cairn + (That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son! + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact + With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip: + For surely I am torn from life by Love. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "From thicket now and thorn let violets spring, + Now let white lilies drape the juniper, + And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong: + For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds, + And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_." + + So spake he, and he never spake again. + Fain Aphroditè would have raised his head; + But all his thread was spun. So down the stream + Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head + Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved. + Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk + The one, and pour the other to the Muse. + Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell! + I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be. + + GOATHERD. + Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb + Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus: + For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song. + Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells: + The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well. + Hither, Cissætha! Thou, go milk her! Kids, + Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram. + + + + +IDYLL II. + + +The Sorceress. + + Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms? + Fetch all; with fiery wool the caldron crown; + Let glamour win me back my false lord's heart! + Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me, + Nor made enquiry if I die or live, + Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my door. + Sure his swift fancy wanders otherwhere, + The slave of Aphroditè and of Love. + I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school + At dawn, that I may see him and denounce + His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms. + So shine out fair, O moon! To thee I sing + My soft low song: to thee and Hecatè + The dweller in the shades, at whose approach + E'en the dogs quake, as on she moves through blood + And darkness and the barrows of the slain. + All hail, dread Hecatè: companion me + Unto the end, and work me witcheries + Potent as Circè or Medea wrought, + Or Perimedè of the golden hair! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + First we ignite the grain. Nay, pile it on: + Where are thy wits flown, timorous Thestylis? + Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou? + Pile, and still say, 'This pile is of his bones.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Delphis racks me: I burn him in these bays. + As, flame-enkindled, they lift up their voice, + Blaze once, and not a trace is left behind: + So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + E'en as I melt, not uninspired, the wax, + May Mindian Delphis melt this hour with love: + And, swiftly as this brazen wheel whirls round, + May Aphroditè whirl him to my door. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Next burn the husks. Hell's adamantine floor + And aught that else stands firm can Artemis move. + Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town: + The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sound the gongs. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Hushed are the voices of the winds and seas; + But O not hushed the voice of my despair. + He burns my being up, who left me here + No wife, no maiden, in my misery. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, sweet mistress, thus: + "What face soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot + Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say) + Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love." + _Turn, magic, wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the weed + That drives the mountain-colts and swift mares wild. + Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise, + Race from his burnished brethren home to me. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + He lost this tassel from his robe; which I + Shred thus, and cast it on the raging flames. + Ah baleful Love! why, like the marsh-born leech, + Cling to my flesh, and drain my dark veins dry? + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + From a crushed eft tomorrow he shall drink + Death! But now, Thestylis, take these herbs and smear + That threshold o'er, whereto at heart I cling + Still, still--albeit he thinks scorn of me-- + And spit, and say, ''Tis Delphis' bones I smear.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + + [_Exit Thestylis_. + + Now, all alone, I'll weep a love whence sprung + When born? Who wrought my sorrow? Anaxo came, + Her basket in her hand, to Artemis' grove. + Bound for the festival, troops of forest beasts + Stood round, and in the midst a lioness. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Theucharidas' slave, my Thracian nurse now dead + Then my near neighbour, prayed me and implored + To see the pageant: I, the poor doomed thing, + Went with her, trailing a fine silken train, + And gathering round me Clearista's robe. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Now, the mid-highway reached by Lycon's farm, + Delphis and Eudamippus passed me by. + With beards as lustrous as the woodbine's gold + And breasts more sheeny than thyself, O Moon, + Fresh from the wrestler's glorious toil they came. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + I saw, I raved, smit (weakling) to my heart. + My beauty withered, and I cared no more + For all that pomp; and how I gained my home + I know not: some strange fever wasted me. + Ten nights and days I lay upon my bed. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + And wan became my flesh, as 't had been dyed, + And all my hair streamed off, and there was left + But bones and skin. Whose threshold crossed I not, + Or missed what grandam's hut who dealt in charms? + For no light thing was this, and time sped on. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + At last I spake the truth to that my maid: + "Seek, an thou canst, some cure for my sore pain. + Alas, I am all the Mindian's! But begone, + And watch by Timagetus' wrestling-school: + There doth he haunt, there soothly take his rest. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits'; + And bring him." So I spake: she went her way, + And brought the lustrous-limbed one to my roof. + And I, the instant I beheld him step + Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door, + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_,) + Became all cold like snow, and from my brow + Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none, + Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make + That babbles to its mother in its dreams; + But all my fair frame stiffened into wax. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down, + And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said: + "Thou hast gained on me, Simætha, (e'en as I + Gained once on young Philinus in the race,) + Bidding me hither ere I came unasked. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "For I had come, by Eros I had come, + This night, with comrades twain or may-be more, + The fruitage of the Wine-god in my robe, + And, wound about my brow with ribands red, + The silver leaves so dear to Heracles. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers + High is my name for goodliness and speed: + I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way. + But had the door been barred, and I thrust out, + With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love, + Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out, + A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames, + And badst me hither. It is Love that lights + A fire more fierce than his of Lipara; + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.) + "Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower, + The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I, + A willing listener, sat, my hand in his, + Among the cushions, and his cheek touched mine, + Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed + In soft low language. Need I prate to thee, + Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did? + Till yesterday he found no fault with me, + Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came + Philista's mother--hers who flutes to me-- + With her Melampo's; just when up the sky + Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn: + And divers tales she brought me, with the rest + How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom: + But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye + He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled, + To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers. + Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true: + For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll + Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask: + Now--'tis a fortnight since I saw his face. + Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere? + Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms. + But let him try me more, and by the Fates + He'll soon be knocking at the gates of hell. + Spells of such power are in this chest of mine, + Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine. + + Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds: + As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil. + Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell, + That wait upon the car of noiseless Night. + + + + +IDYLL III. + + +The Serenade. + + I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats, + Tityrus their guardian, browse along the fell. + O Tityrus, as I love thee, feed my goats: + And lead them to the spring, and, Tityrus, 'ware + The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram. + Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more + Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock + Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him? + Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped + Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon. + See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree + I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon. + Ah witness my heart-anguish! Oh were I + A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair, + Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths + Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now: + Fell god, he drank the lioness's milk, + In the wild woods his mother cradled him, + Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone. + O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart + All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine! + Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips, + For there is sweetness in an empty kiss. + Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown, + The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee, + Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers: + Oh I am desperate--what betides me, what?-- + Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins + And leap into yon waves, where on the watch + For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death, + That I have all but died will pleasure thee. + That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?') + The _Love-in-absence_, crushed, returned no sound, + But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist. + I learned it of the sieve-divining crone + Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday: + 'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her; + She makes of none account her worshipper.' + Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for thee: + Mermnon's lass covets them: dark she is of skin: + But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me. + She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye. + I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing. + She may look round: she is not adamant. + + [_Sings_] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed, + Took apples in his hand and on he sped. + Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this; + She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss. + + From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray + To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay + In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare; + Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare. + + Did not Adonis rouse to such excess + Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness, + (He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill) + That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still? + + Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth not: + And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot! + Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain + Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane. + + My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no more: + E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves + Rend me--may that be honey in thy mouth! + + + + +IDYLL IV. + + +The Herdsmen. + +_BATTUS. CORYDON._ + + BATTUS. + Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee say. + + CORYDON. + No, Ægon: and he gave them me to tend while he's away. + + BATTUS. + Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to see? + + CORYDON. + The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on me. + + BATTUS. + And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful lord? + + CORYDON. + Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward. + + BATTUS. + How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by him? + + CORYDON. + Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb. + + BATTUS. + I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more. + + CORYDON. + --So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes a score. + + BATTUS. + This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven next. + + CORYDON. + --And by these bellowings his kine proclaim how sore they're vexed. + + BATTUS. + Poor kine! they've found their master a sorry knave indeed. + + CORYDON. + They're poor enough, I grant you: they have not heart to feed. + + BATTUS. + Look at that heifer! sure there's naught, save bare bones, left of her. + Pray, does she browse on dewdrops, as doth the grasshopper? + + CORYDON. + Not she, by heaven! She pastures now by Æsarus' glades, + And handfuls fair I pluck her there of young and green grass-blades; + Now bounds about Latymnus, that gathering-place of shades. + + BATTUS. + That bull again, the red one, my word but he is lean! + I wish the Sybarite burghers aye may offer to the queen + Of heaven as pitiful a beast: those burghers are so mean! + + CORYDON. + Yet to the Salt Lake's edges I drive him, I can swear; + Up Physcus, up Neæthus' side--he lacks not victual there, + With dittany and endive and foxglove for his fare. + + BATTUS. + Well, well! I pity Ægon. His cattle, go they must + To rack and ruin, all because vain-glory was his lust. + The pipe that erst he fashioned is doubtless scored with rust? + + CORYDON. + Nay, by the Nymphs! That pipe he left to me, the self-same day + He made for Pisa: I am too a minstrel in my way: + Well the flute-part in '_Pyrrhus_' and in '_Glauca_' can I play. + I sing too '_Here's to Croton_' and '_Zacynthus O 'tis fair_,' + And '_Eastward to Lacinium_:'--the bruiser Milo there + His single self ate eighty loaves; there also did he pull + Down from its mountain-dwelling, by one hoof grasped, a bull, + And gave it Amaryllis: the maidens screamed with fright; + As for the owner of the bull he only laughed outright. + + BATTUS. + Sweet Amaryllis! thou alone, though dead, art unforgot. + Dearer than thou, whose light is quenched, my very goats are not. + Oh for the all-unkindly fate that's fallen to my lot! + + CORYDON. + Cheer up, brave lad! tomorrow may ease thee of thy pain: + Aye for the living are there hopes, past' hoping are the slain: + And now Zeus sends us sunshine, and now he sends us rain. + + BATTUS. + I'm better. Beat those young ones off! E'en now their teeth attack + That olive's shoots, the graceless brutes! Back, with your white face, + back! + + CORYDON. + Back to thy hill, Cymætha! Great Pan, how deaf thou art! + I shall be with thee presently, and in the end thou'lt smart. + I warn thee, keep thy distance. Look, up she creeps again! + Oh were my hare-crook in nay hand, I'd give it to her then! + + BATTUS. + For heaven's sake, Corydon, look here! Just now a bramble-spike + Ran, there, into my instep--and oh how deep they strike, + Those lancewood-shafts! A murrain light on that calf, I say! + I got it gaping after her. Canst thou discern it, pray? + + CORYDON. + Ay, ay; and here I have it, safe in my finger-nails. + + BATTUS. + Eh! at how slight a matter how tall a warrior quails! + + CORYDON. + Ne'er range the hill-crest, Battus, all sandal-less and bare: + Because the thistle and the thorn lift aye their plumed heads there. + + BATTUS. + --Say, Corydon, does that old man we wot of (tell me please!) + Still haunt the dark-browed little girl whom once he used to tease? + + CORYDON. + Ay my poor boy, that doth he: I saw them yesterday + Down by the byre; and, trust me, loving enough were they. + + BATTUS. + Well done, my veteran light-o'-love! In deeming thee mere man, + I wronged thy sire: some Satyr he, or an uncouth-limbed Pan. + + + + +IDYLL V. + + +The Battle of the Bards. + + +_COMETAS. LACON. MORSON_. + + + COMETAS. + Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away: + Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday. + + LACON. + Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see + Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from me? + + COMETAS. + Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and how? + Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee now? + + LACON. + 'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, say, + What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked away? + Why, thy lord's self had ne'er a skin whereon his limbs to lay. + + COMETAS. + The skin that Crocylus gave me, a dark one streaked with white, + The day he slew his she-goat. Why, thou wert ill with spite, + Then, my false friend; and thou would'st end by beggaring me quite. + + LACON. + Did Lacon, did Calæthis' son purloin a goatskin? No, + By Pan that haunts the sea-beach! Lad, if I served thee so, + Crazed may I drop from yon hill-top to Crathis' stream below! + + COMETAS. + Nor pipe of thine, good fellow--the Ladies of the Lake + So be still kind and good to me--did e'er Cometas take. + + LACON. + Be Daphnis' woes my portion, should that my credence win! + Still, if thou list to stake a kid--that surely were no sin-- + Come on, I'll sing it out with thee--until thou givest in. + + COMETAS. + '_The hog he braved Athene._' As for the kid, 'tis there: + You stake a lamb against him--that fat one--if you dare. + + LACON. + Fox! were that fair for either? At shearing who'd prefer + Horsehair to wool? or when the goat stood handy, suffer her + To nurse her firstling, and himself go milk a blatant cur? + + COMETAS. + The same who deemed his hornet's-buzz the true cicala's note, + And braved--like you--his better. And so forsooth you vote + My kid a trifle? Then come on, fellow! I stake the goat. + + LACON. + Why be so hot? Art thou on fire? First prythee take thy seat + 'Neath this wild woodland olive: thy tones will sound more sweet. + Here falls a cold rill drop by drop, and green grass-blades uprear + Their heads, and fallen leaves are thick, and locusts prattle here. + + COMETAS. + Hot I am not; but hurt I am, and sorely, when I think + That thou canst look me in the face and never bleach nor blink-- + Me, thine own boyhood's tutor! Go, train the she-wolf's brood: + Train dogs--that they may rend thee! This, this is gratitude! + + LACON. + When learned I from thy practice or thy preaching aught that's right, + Thou puppet, thou misshapen lump of ugliness and spite? + + COMETAS. + When? When I beat thee, wailing sore: yon goats looked on with glee, + And bleated; and were dealt with e'en as I had dealt with thee. + + LACON. + Well, hunchback, shallow be thy grave as was thy judgment then! + But hither, hither! Thou'lt not dip in herdsman's lore again. + + COMETAS. + Nay, here are oaks and galingale: the hum of housing bees + Makes the place pleasant, and the birds are piping in the trees. + And here are two cold streamlets; here deeper shadows fall + Than yon place owns, and look what cones drop from the pinetree tall. + + LACON. + Come hither, and tread on lambswool that is soft as any dream: + Still more unsavoury than thyself to me thy goatskins seem. + Here will I plant a bowl of milk, our ladies' grace to win; + And one, as huge, beside it, sweet olive-oil therein. + + COMETAS. + Come hither, and trample dainty fern and poppy-blossom: sleep + On goatskins that are softer than thy fleeces piled three deep. + Here will I plant eight milkpails, great Pan's regard to gain, + Bound them eight cups: full honeycombs shall every cup contain. + + LACON. + Well! there essay thy woodcraft: thence fight me, never budge + From thine own oak; e'en have thy way. But who shall be our judge? + Oh, if Lycopas with his kine should chance this way to trudge! + + COMETAS. + Nay, I want no Lycopas. But hail yon woodsman, do: + 'Tis Morson--see! his arms are full of bracken--there, by you. + + LACON. + We'll hail him. + + COMETAS. + Ay, you hail him. + + LACON. + Friend, 'twill not take thee long: + We're striving which is master, we twain, in woodland song: + And thou, my good friend Morson, ne'er look with favouring eyes + On me; nor yet to yonder lad be fain to judge the prize. + + COMETAS. + Nay, by the Nymphs, sweet Morson, ne'er for Cometas' sake + Stretch thou a point; nor e'er let him undue advantage take. + Sibyrtas owns yon wethers; a Thurian is he: + And here, my friend, Eumares' goats, of Sybaris, you may see. + + LACON. + And who asked thee, thou naughty knave, to whom belonged these flocks, + Sibyrtas, or (it might be) me? Eh, thou'rt a chatter-box! + + COMETAS. + The simple truth, most worshipful, is all that I allege: + I'm not for boasting. But thy wit hath all too keen an edge. + + LACON. + Come sing, if singing's in thee--and may our friend get back + To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth clack! + + COMETAS. [_Sings_] + Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the Nine + Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their shrine. + + LACON. [_Sings_] + Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear + A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near. + + COMETAS. + Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my own, + Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all alone?' + + LACON. + Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with cheese: + Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed leas. + + COMETAS. + Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he stray + By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming way. + + LACON. + Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my flocks: + How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining locks! + + COMETAS. + Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree, + The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for me. + + LACON. + Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and still + I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the hill. + + COMETAS. + A cushat I will presently procure and give to her + Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper. + + LACON. + Pooh! a soft fleece, to make a coat, I'll give the day I shear + My brindled ewe--(no hand but mine shall touch it)--to my dear. + + COMETAS. + Back, lambs, from that wild-olive: and be content to browse + Here on the shoulder of the hill, beneath the myrtle boughs. + + LACON. + Run, (will ye?) Ball and Dogstar, down from that oak tree, run: + And feed where Spot is feeding, and catch the morning sun. + + COMETAS. + I have a bowl of cypress-wood: I have besides a cup: + Praxiteles designed them: for _her_ they're treasured up. + + LACON. + I have a dog who throttles wolves: he loves the sheep, and they + Love him: I'll give him to my dear, to keep wild beasts at bay. + + COMETAS. + Ye locusts that o'erleap my fence, oh let my vines escape + Your clutches, I beseech you: the bloom is on the grape. + + LACON. + Ye crickets, mark how nettled our friend the goatherd is! + I ween, ye cost the reapers pangs as acute as his. + + COMETAS. + Those foxes with their bushy tails, I hate to see them crawl + Round Micon's homestead and purloin his grapes at evenfall. + + LACON. + _I_ hate to see the beetles that come warping on the wind. + And climb Philondas' trees, and leave never a fig behind. + + COMETAS. + Have you forgot that cudgelling I gave you? At each stroke + You grinned and twisted with a grace, and clung to yonder oak. + + LACON. + That I've forgot--but I have not, how once Eumares tied + You to that selfsame oak-trunk, and tanned your unclean hide. + + COMETAS. + There's some one ill--of heartburn. You note it, I presume, + Morson? Go quick, and fetch a squill from some old beldam's tomb. + + LACON. + I think I'm stinging somebody, as Morson too perceives-- + Go to the river and dig up a clump of sowbread-leaves. + + COMETAS. + May Himera flow, not water, but milk: and may'st thou blush, + Crathis, with wine; and fruitage grow upon every rush. + + LACON. + For me may Sybaris' fountain flow, pure honey: so that you, + My fair, may dip your pitcher each morn in honey-dew. + + COMETAS. + My goats are fed on clover and goat's-delight: they tread + On lentisk leaves; or lie them down, ripe strawberries o'er their head. + + LACON. + My sheep crop honeysuckle bloom, while all around them blows + In clusters rich the jasmine, as brave as any rose. + + COMETAS. + I scorn my maid; for when she took my cushat, she did not + Draw with both hands my face to hers and kiss me on the spot. + + LACON. + I love my love, and hugely: for, when I gave my flute, + I was rewarded with a kiss, a loving one to boot. + + COMETAS. + Lacon, the nightingale should scarce be challenged by the jay, + Nor swan by hoopoe: but, poor boy, thou aye wert for a fray. + + MORSON. + I bid the shepherd hold his peace. Cometas, unto you + I, Morson, do adjudge the lamb. You'll first make offering due + Unto the nymphs: then savoury meat you'll send to Morson too. + + COMETAS. + By Pan I will! Snort, all my herd of he-goats: I shall now + O'er Lacon, shepherd as he is, crow ye shall soon see how. + I've won, and I could leap sky-high! Ye also dance and skip, + My hornèd ewes: in Sybaris' fount to-morrow all shall dip. + Ho! you, sir, with the glossy coat and dangerous crest; you dare + Look at a ewe, till I have slain my lamb, and ill you'll fare. + What! is he at his tricks again? He is, and he will get + (Or my name's not Cometas) a proper pounding yet. + + + + +IDYLL VI. + + +The Drawn Battle. + +DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS. + + Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once + Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen. + One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard. + And by a brookside on a summer noon + The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led + The song, for Daphnis was the challenger. + + DAPHNIS. + "See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit, + And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme. + Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye + Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog: + Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks, + And, through the clear wave visible to her still, + Careers along the gently babbling beach. + Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen + From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs. + She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs + In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed, + Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win; + For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love." + + And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang. + + DAMOETAS. + "I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind, + By Pan, by this my one my precious eye + That bounds my vision now and evermore! + But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe, + His and his children's, that he promised me! + Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by, + Pretend to woo another:--and she hears + (Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy; + And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung, + Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock. + 'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her; + For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay + His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note + Mayhap, and message send on message soon: + But I will bar my door until she swear + To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed. + And I am less unlovely than men say. + I looked into the mere (the mere was calm), + And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed + My solitary eye, and, half-revealed, + My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl. + Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe: + That learned I of the hag Cottytaris--her + Who fluted lately with Hippocoön's mowers." + + Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly: + One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute. + Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe + The younglings bounded in the soft green grass: + And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both. + + + + +IDYLL VII. + + +Harvest-Home. + + Once on a time did Eucritus and I + (With us Amyntas) to the riverside + Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons + Were that day busy with the harvest-home, + Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung + (If aught thou holdest by the good old names) + By Clytia from great Chalcon--him who erst + Planted one stalwart knee against the rock, + And lo, beneath his foot Burinè's rill + Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm + Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed + By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now, + Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas: + When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near + A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas. + The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell + So much: for every inch a herdsman he. + Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide + Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired, + That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped + A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff + A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore. + Soon with a quiet smile he spoke--his eye + Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip: + "And whither ploddest thou thy weary way + Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas? + For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall, + The crested lark folds now his wandering wing. + Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board? + Or townward to the treading of the grape? + For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet + The pavement-stones ring out right merrily." + Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none + Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match + At piping: and my soul is glad thereat. + Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee. + Now look, this road holds holiday to-day: + For banded brethren solemnise a feast + To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her + For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand + Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors. + So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine: + Try we our woodcraft--each may learn from each. + I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song; + All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not, + Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet + (I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard + Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song. + They are as cicadas challenged by a frog." + + I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing light + He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed + A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand! + I hate your builders who would rear a house + High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle: + I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry + Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard. + But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas, + Our woodland music: and for my part I-- + List, comrade, if you like the simple air + I forged among the uplands yesterday. + + [_Sings_] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the main + To Mitylenè--though the southern blast + Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids, + Or low above the verge Orion stand-- + If from Love's furnace she will rescue me, + For Lycidas is parched with hot desire. + Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds, + Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off + Flutters the seaweed--halcyons, of all birds + Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear + By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile + On her to Mitylenè voyaging, + And in fair harbour may she ride at last. + I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill + Or rose or simple violet on my brow, + Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask + Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans, + And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel + And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled + My bed of rushes, where in royal ease + I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain + With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs. + I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both, + This from Acharnæ, from Lycopè that; + And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing + How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid; + And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks + (Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal) + Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away + Like snow on Athos, or on Hæmus high, + Or Rhodopè, or utmost Caucasus. + And he shall sing me how the big chest held + (All through the maniac malice of his lord) + A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees, + Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell, + Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse + Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song. + Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine! + Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees + Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year: + And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick + In my day! I had led thy pretty goats + About the hill-side, listening to thy voice: + While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine, + Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly." + + He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I. + "I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells, + Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs, + Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus. + But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first: + Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well. + + [_Sings_] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless I + Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring. + But my best friend Aratus inly pines + For one who loves him not. Aristis saw-- + (A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay + Shrinèd Apollo's self would scarce disdain)-- + How love had scorched Aratus to the bone. + O Pan, who hauntest Homolè's fair champaign, + Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be, + Unbid to his sweet arms--so, gracious Pan, + May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed + With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er + They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer + Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep, + Dinted and sore all over from their claws! + Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills + By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist, + The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range + With the far Æthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks + Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves, + Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes + By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill, + Or fair Dionè's rocky pedestal, + And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike + The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend. + And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear? + The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.' + We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more, + Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock + Crow to wake others up to numb despair! + Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave: + While we make ease our study, and secure + Some witch, to charm all evil from our door." + + I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before, + Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,' + And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while, + Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I, + And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay + Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed + And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we? + A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead; + Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on + From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs + The sweet cicada chirped laboriously. + Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away + The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark + Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan, + And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee. + All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all: + Pears at our feet, and apples at our side + Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground + Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed + From the cask's head the crust of four long years. + Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks, + Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er + Set before Heracles a cup so brave + In Pholus' cavern--did as nectarous draughts + Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand + Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong, + Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:-- + As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us + All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home? + Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again + Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles, + Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm. + + + + +IDYLL VIII. + + +The Triumph of Daphnis. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A GOATHERD_. + + Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as legend tells, + Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the fells. + Both chins were gilt with coming beards: both lads could sing and play: + Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to say:-- + "Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing kine? + I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than thine." + Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made reply: + "O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and high; + But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing as I." + + MENALCAS. + This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with me? + + DAPHNIS. + This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with thee. + + MENALCAS. + But what, for champions such as we, would, seem a fitting prize? + + DAPHNIS. + I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother's self in size. + + MENALCAS. + A lamb I'll venture never: for aye at close of day + Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are they. + + DAPHNIS. + Then what shall be the victor's fee? What wager wilt thou lay? + + MENALCAS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths I made, full fair to view; + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + I'll risk it: risk my father's own is more than I dare do. + + DAPHNIS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths, and fair, hath Daphnis too: + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + But yesterday I made it: this finger feels the pain + Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in twain. + But who shall be our umpire? who listen to our strain? + + MENALCAS. + Suppose we hail yon goatherd; him at whose horned herd now + The dog is barking--yonder dog with white upon his brow. + + Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, and up came he; + Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would be. + To shrill Menalcas' lot it fell to start the woodland lay: + Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the way. + + MENALCAS. + "Rivers and vales, a glorious birth! Oh if Menalcas e'er + Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears: + Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young Daphnis fare + No worse, should he stray hither with his steers." + + DAPHNIS. + "Pastures and rills, a bounteous race! If Daphnis sang you e'er + Such songs as ne'er from nightingale have flowed; + Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas share + Like boon, should e'er he wend along this road." + + MENALCAS. + "'Tis spring, 'tis greenness everywhere; with milk the udders teem, + And all things that are young have life anew, + Where my sweet maiden wanders: but parched and withered seem, + When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too." + + DAPHNIS. + "Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are thronged with + bees, + Rises the oak beyond his natural growth, + Where falls my darling's footstep: but hungriness shall seize, + When she departeth, herd and herdsman both." + + MENALCAS. + "Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at thy side, + Where winds the brook by woodlands myriad-deep: + There is _her_ haunt. Go, Stump-horn, tell her how Proteus plied + (A god) the shepherd's trade, with seals for sheep." + + DAPHNIS. + "I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king; + I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze; + But 'neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, and fling + (Still clasping _her_) my carol o'er the seas." + + MENALCAS. + "Storms are the fruit-tree's bane; the brook's, a summer hot and dry; + The stag's a woven net, a gin the dove's; + Mankind's, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere I: + Zeus! Father! hadst not thou thy lady-loves?" + + + Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes rehearst: + Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas first:-- + + MENALCAS. + "O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers spare! + Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care! + What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep? It ill befits a hound, + Tending a boyish master's flock, to slumber over-sound. + And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your fill: + So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding still. + So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder fail: + Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill my pail." + Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a nightingale:-- + + DAPHNIS. + "Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow + Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, "How fair art thou!" + I vow that not one bitter word in answer did I say, + But, looking ever on the ground, went silently my way. + The heifer's voice, the heifer's breath, are passing sweet to me; + And sweet is sleep by summer-brooks upon the breezy lea: + As acorns are the green oak's pride, apples the apple-bough's; + So the cow glorieth in her calf, the cowherd in his cows." + Thus the two lads; then spoke the third, sitting his goats among: + + GOATHERD. + "O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung; + Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue. + Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And should there be some notes + That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my goats, + I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath none: + Day after day she'll fill the can, until the milk o'errun." + + Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and clapped his hands for + glee! + A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as merrily. + And how the other inly burned, struck down by his disgrace! + A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a face. + + Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the country side: + And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his bride. + + + + +IDYLL IX. + + +Pastorals. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A SHEPHERD._ + + + SHEPHERD. + A song from Daphnis! Open he the lay, + He open: and Menalcas follow next: + While the calves suck, and with the barren kine + The young bulls graze, or roam knee-deep in leaves, + And ne'er play truant. But a song from thee, + Daphnis--anon Menalcas will reply. + + DAPHNIS. + Sweet is the chorus of the calves and kine, + And sweet the herdsman's pipe. But none may vie + With Daphnis; and a rush-strown bed is mine + Near a cool rill, where carpeted I lie + On fair white goatskins. From a hill-top high + The westwind swept me down the herd entire, + Cropping the strawberries: whence it comes that I + No more heed summer, with his breath of fire, + Than lovers heed the words of mother and of sire. + + Thus Daphnis: and Menalcas answered thus:-- + + MENALCAS. + O Ætna, mother mine! A grotto fair, + Scooped in the rocks, have I: and there I keep + All that in dreams men picture! Treasured there + Are multitudes of she-goats and of sheep, + Swathed in whose wool from top to toe I sleep. + The fire that boils my pot, with oak or beech + Is piled--dry beech-logs when the snow lies deep; + And storm and sunshine, I disdain them each + As toothless sires a nut, when broth is in their reach. + + I clapped applause, and straight produced my gifts: + A staff for Daphnis--'twas the handiwork + Of nature, in my father's acres grown: + Yet might a turner find no fault therewith. + I gave his mate a goodly spiral-shell: + We stalked its inmate on the Icarian rocks + And ate him, parted fivefold among five. + He blew forthwith the trumpet on his shell. + Tell, woodland Muse--and then farewell--what song + I, the chance-comer, sang before those twain. + + SHEPHERD. + Ne'er let a falsehood scarify my tongue! + Crickets with crickets, ants with ants agree, + And hawks with hawks: and music sweetly sung, + Beyond all else, is grateful unto me. + Filled aye with music may my dwelling be! + Not slumber, not the bursting forth of Spring + So charms me, nor the flowers that tempt the bee, + As those sweet Sisters. He, on whom they fling + One gracious glance, is proof to Circè's blandishing. + + + + +IDYLL X. + + +The Two Workmen. + +_MILO. BATTUS._ + + What now, poor o'erworked drudge, is on thy mind? + No more in even swathe thou layest the corn: + Thy fellow-reapers leave thee far behind, + As flocks a ewe that's footsore from a thorn. + By noon and midday what will be thy plight + If now, so soon, thy sickle fails to bite? + + + BATTUS. + Hewn from hard rocks, untired at set of sun, + Milo, didst ne'er regret some absent one? + + MILO. + Not I. What time have workers for regret? + + BATTUS. + Hath love ne'er kept thee from thy slumbers yet? + + MILO. + Nay, heaven forbid! If once the cat taste cream! + + BATTUS. + Milo, these ten days love hath been my dream. + + MILO. + You drain your wine, while vinegar's scarce with me. + + BATTUS. + --Hence since last spring untrimmed my borders be. + + MILO. + And what lass flouts thee? + + BATTUS. + She whom we heard play + Amongst Hippocoön's reapers yesterday. + + MILO. + Your sins have found you out--you're e'en served right: + You'll clasp a corn-crake in your arms all night. + + BATTUS. + You laugh: but headstrong Love is blind no less + Than Plutus: talking big is foolishness. + + MILO. + I talk not big. But lay the corn-ears low + And trill the while some love-song--easier so + Will seem your toil: you used to sing, I know. + + BATTUS. + Maids of Pieria, of my slim lass sing! + One touch of yours ennobles everything. + + [_Sings_] + Fairy Bombyca! thee do men report + Lean, dusk, a gipsy: I alone nut-brown. + Violets and pencilled hyacinths are swart, + Yet first of flowers they're chosen for a crown. + As goats pursue the clover, wolves the goat, + And cranes the ploughman, upon thee I dote. + + Had I but Croesus' wealth, we twain should stand + Gold-sculptured in Love's temple; thou, thy lyre + (Ay or a rose or apple) in thy hand, + I in my brave new shoon and dance-attire. + Fairy Bombyca! twinkling dice thy feet, + Poppies thy lips, thy ways none knows how sweet! + + MILO. + Who dreamed what subtle strains our bumpkin wrought? + How shone the artist in each measured verse! + Fie on the beard that I have grown for naught! + Mark, lad, these lines by glorious Lytierse. + + [_Sings_] + O rich in fruit and cornblade: be this field + Tilled well, Demeter, and fair fruitage yield! + + Bind the sheaves, reapers: lest one, passing, say-- + 'A fig for these, they're never worth their pay.' + + Let the mown swathes look northward, ye who mow, + Or westward--for the ears grow fattest so. + + Avoid a noontide nap, ye threshing men: + The chaff flies thickest from the corn-ears then. + + Wake when the lark wakes; when he slumbers, close + Your work, ye reapers: and at noontide doze. + + Boys, the frogs' life for me! They need not him + Who fills the flagon, for in drink they swim. + + Better boil herbs, thou toiler after gain, + Than, splitting cummin, split thy hand in twain. + + Strains such as these, I trow, befit them well + Who toil and moil when noon is at its height: + Thy meagre love-tale, bumpkin, though shouldst tell + Thy grandam as she wakes up ere 'tis light. + + + + +IDYLL XI. + + +The Giant's Wooing + + + Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love, + Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one; + And this is light and pleasant to a man, + Yet hard withal to compass--minstrelsy. + As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech, + And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine. + 'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease, + Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen + On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph: + No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer, + But a fell madman, blind to all but love. + Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep + Unbid: while he upon the windy beach, + Singing his Galatea, sat and pined + From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart: + Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there. + Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down + On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and sang:-- + + "White Galatea, why disdain thy love? + White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb, + Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes! + If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large; + If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone, + Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near. + I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since, + To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell, + Thou and my mother, piloted by me. + I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth + For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee. + I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy: + Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans + From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye + Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip. + Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep + That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide: + In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still + Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows. + Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet, + Singing our loves--ours, honey, thine and mine-- + At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven + (Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee. + Oh come to me--thou shalt not rue the day-- + And let the mad seas beat against the shore! + 'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night: + Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun, + And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there: + And a cold spring that pine-clad Ætna flings + Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods! + Who would not change for this the ocean-waves? + + "But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken logs + Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire. + Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye, + Mine only eye wherein is my delight. + Oh why was I not born a finny thing, + To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand, + Denied thy lips--and bring thee lilies white + And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom! + Nay--summer hath his flowers and autumn his; + I could not bring all these the selfsame day. + Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road, + Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim, + That haply I may learn what bliss ye find + In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come + Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget + (As I do, sitting here) to get thee home: + And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth, + And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese! + + "The blame's my mother's; she is false to me; + Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake, + Though day by day she sees me pine and pine. + I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet + To anguish her--as I am anguished now." + + O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy wits? + Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs + To feed thy lambkins--'twere the shrewder part. + Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe: + The world hath Galateas fairer yet. + + "--Many a fair damsel bids me sport with her + The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear. + On land at least I still am somebody." + + Thus did the Giant feed his love on song, + And gained more ease than may be bought with gold. + + + + +IDYLL XII. + +The Comrades + + Thou art come, lad, come! Scarce thrice hath dusk to day + Given place--but lovers in an hour grow gray. + As spring's more sweet than winter, grapes than thorns, + The ewe's fleece richer than her latest-born's; + As young girls' charms the thrice-wed wife's outshine, + As fawns are lither than the ungainly kine, + Or as the nightingale's clear notes outvie + The mingled music of all birds that fly; + So at thy coming passing glad was I. + I ran to greet thee e'en as pilgrims run + To beechen shadows from the scorching sun: + Oh if on us accordant Loves would breathe, + And our two names to future years bequeath! + + 'These twain'--let men say--'lived in olden days. + This was a _yokel_ (in their country-phrase), + That was his _mate_ (so talked these simple folk): + And lovingly they bore a mutual yoke. + The hearts of men were made of sterling gold, + When troth met troth, in those brave days of old,' + + O Zeus, O gods who age not nor decay! + Let e'en two hundred ages roll away, + But at the last these tidings let me learn, + Borne o'er the fatal pool whence none return:-- + "By every tongue thy constancy is sung, + Thine and thy favourite's--chiefly by the young." + But lo, the future is in heaven's high hand: + Meanwhile thy graces all my praise demand, + Not false lip-praise, not idly bubbling froth-- + For though thy wrath be kindled, e'en thy wrath + Hath no sting in it: doubly I am caressed, + And go my way repaid with interest. + + Oarsmen of Megara, ruled by Nisus erst! + Yours be all bliss, because ye honoured first + That true child-lover, Attic Diocles. + Around his gravestone with the first spring-breeze + Flock the bairns all, to win the kissing-prize: + And whoso sweetliest lip to lip applies + Goes crown-clad home to its mother. Blest is he + Who in such strife is named the referee: + To brightfaced Ganymede full oft he'll cry + To lend his lip the potencies that lie + Within that stone with which the usurers + Detect base metal, and which never errs. + + + + +IDYLL XIII. + + +Hylas. + + Not for us only, Nicias, (vain the dream,) + Sprung from what god soe'er, was Eros born: + Not to us only grace doth graceful seem, + Frail things who wot not of the coming morn. + No--for Amphitryon's iron-hearted son, + Who braved the lion, was the slave of one:-- + + A fair curled creature, Hylas was his name. + He taught him, as a father might his child, + All songs whereby himself had risen to fame; + Nor ever from his side would be beguiled + When noon was high, nor when white steeds convey + Back to heaven's gates the chariot of the day, + + Nor when the hen's shrill brood becomes aware + Of bed-time, as the mother's flapping wings + Shadow the dust-browned beam. 'Twas all his care + To shape unto his own imaginings + And to the harness train his favourite youth, + Till he became a man in very truth. + + Meanwhile, when kingly Jason steered in quest + Of the Gold Fleece, and chieftains at his side + Chosen from all cities, proffering each her best, + To rich Iolchos came that warrior tried, + And joined him unto trim-built Argo's crew; + And with Alcmena's son came Hylas too. + + Through the great gulf shot Argo like a bird-- + And by-and-bye reached Phasis, ne'er o'erta'en + By those in-rushing rocks, that have not stirred + Since then, but bask, twin monsters, on the main. + But now, when waned the spring, and lambs were fed + In far-off fields, and Pleiads gleamed overhead, + + That cream and flower of knighthood looked to sail. + They came, within broad Argo safely stowed, + (When for three days had blown the southern gale) + To Hellespont, and in Propontis rode + At anchor, where Cianian oxen now + Broaden the furrows with the busy plough. + + They leapt ashore, and, keeping rank, prepared + Their evening meal: a grassy meadow spread + Before their eyes, and many a warrior shared + (Thanks to its verdurous stores) one lowly bed. + And while they cut tall marigolds from their stem + And sworded bulrush, Hylas slipt from them. + + Water the fair lad wont to seek and bring + To Heracles and stalwart Telamon, + (The comrades aye partook each other's fare,) + Bearing a brazen pitcher. And anon, + Where the ground dipt, a fountain he espied, + And rushes growing green about its side. + + There rose the sea-blue swallow-wort, and there + The pale-hued maidenhair, with parsley green + And vagrant marsh-flowers; and a revel rare + In the pool's midst the water-nymphs were seen + To hold, those maidens of unslumbrous eyes + Whom the belated peasant sees and flies. + + And fast did Malis and Eunica cling, + And young Nychea with her April face, + To the lad's hand, as stooping o'er the spring + He dipt his pitcher. For the young Greek's grace + Made their soft senses reel; and down he fell, + All of a sudden, into that black well. + + So drops a red star suddenly from sky + To sea--and quoth some sailor to his mate: + "Up with the tackle, boy! the breeze is high." + Him the nymphs pillowed, all disconsolate, + On their sweet laps, and with soft words beguiled; + But Heracles was troubled for the child. + + Forth went he; Scythian-wise his bow he bore + And the great club that never quits his side; + And thrice called 'Hylas'--ne'er came lustier roar + From that deep chest. Thrice Hylas heard and tried + To answer, but in tones you scarce might hear; + The water made them distant though so near. + + And as a lion, when he hears the bleat + Of fawns among the mountains far away, + A murderous lion, and with hurrying feet + Bounds from his lair to his predestined prey: + So plunged the strong man in the untrodden brake-- + (Lovers are maniacs)--for his darling's sake. + + He scoured far fields--what hill or oaken glen + Remembers not that pilgrimage of pain? + His troth to Jason was forgotten then. + Long time the good ship tarried for those twain + With hoisted sails; night came and still they cleared + The hatches, but no Heracles appeared. + + On he was wandering, reckless where he trod, + So mad a passion on his vitals preyed: + While Hylas had become a blessed god. + But the crew cursed the runaway who had stayed + Sixty good oars, and left him there to reach + Afoot bleak Phasis and the Colchian beach. + + + + +IDYLL XIV. + + +The Love of Æschines. + +_THYONICHUS. ÆSCHINES._ + + ÆSCHINES. + Hail, sir Thyonichus. + + THYONICHUS. + Æschines, to you. + + ÆSCHINES. + I have missed thee. + + THYONICHUS. + Missed me! Why what ails him now? + + ÆSCHINES. + My friend, I am ill at ease. + + THYONICHUS. + Then this explains + Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache + And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw, + A wan Pythagorean, yesterday. + He said he came from Athens: shoes he had none: + He pined, I'll warrant,--for a quartern loaf. + + ÆSCHINES. + Sir, you will joke--But I've been outraged, sore, + And by Cynisca. I shall go stark mad + Ere you suspect--a hair would turn the scale. + + THYONICHUS. + Such thou wert always, Æschines my friend. + In lazy mood or trenchant, at thy whim + The world must wag. But what's thy grievance now? + + ÆSCHINES. + That Argive, Apis the Thessalian Knight, + Myself, and gallant Cleonicus, supped + Within my grounds. Two pullets I had slain, + And a prime pig: and broached my Biblian wine; + 'Twas four years old, but fragrant as when new. + Truffles were served to us: and the drink was good. + Well, we got on, and each must drain a cup + To whom he fancied; only each must name. + We named, and took our liquor as ordained; + But she sate silent--this before my face. + Fancy my feelings! "Wilt not speak? Hast seen + A wolf?" some wag said. "Shrewdly guessed," quoth she, + And blushed--her blushes might have fired a torch. + A wolf _had_ charmed her: Wolf her neighbour's son, + Goodly and tall, and fair in divers eyes: + For his illustrious sake it was she pined. + This had been breathed, just idly, in my ear: + Shame on my beard, I ne'er pursued the hint. + Well, when we four were deep amid our cups, + The Knight must sing 'The Wolf' (a local song) + Right through for mischief. All at once she wept + Hot tears as girls of six years old might weep, + Clinging and clamouring round their mother's lap. + And I, (you know my humour, friend of mine,) + Drove at his face, one, two! She gathered up + Her robes and vanished straightway through the door. + "And so I fail to please, false lady mine? + Another lies more welcome in thy lap? + Go warm that other's heart: he'll say thy tears + Are liquid pearls." And as a swallow flies + Forth in a hurry, here or there to find + A mouthful for her brood among the eaves: + From her soft sofa passing-swift she fled + Through folding-doors and hall, with random feet: + _'The stag had gained his heath':_ you know the rest. + Three weeks, a month, nine days and ten to that, + To-day's the eleventh: and 'tis just two months + All but two days, since she and I were two. + Hence is my beard of more than Thracian growth. + Now Wolf is all to her: Wolf enters in + At midnight; I am a cypher in her eyes; + The poor Megarian, nowhere in the race. + All would go right, if I could once _unlove_: + But now, you wot, the rat hath tasted tar. + And what may cure a swain at his wit's end + I know not: Simus, (true,) a mate of mine, + Loved Epichalcus' daughter, and took ship + And came home cured. I too will sail the seas. + Worse men, it may be better, are afloat, + I shall still prove an average man-at-arms. + + THYONICHUS. + Now may thy love run smoothly, Æschines! + But should'st thou really mean a voyage out, + The freeman's best paymaster's Ptolemy. + + ÆSCHINES. + What is he else? + + THYONICHUS. + A gentleman: a man + Of wit and taste; the top of company; + Loyal to ladies; one whose eye is keen + For friends, and keener still for enemies. + Large in his bounties, he, in kingly sort, + Denies a boon to none: but, Æschines, + One should not ask too often. This premised, + If thou wilt clasp the military cloak + O'er thy right shoulder, and with legs astride + Await the onward rush of shielded men: + Hie thee to Egypt. Age overtakes us all; + Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin, + Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time. + Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere. + + + + +IDYLL XV. + + +The Festival of Adonis. + +_GORGO. PRAXINOÄ._ + + GORGO. + Praxinoä in? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Yes, Gorgo dear! At last! + That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair, + A cushion, Eunoä! + + GORGO. + I lack naught. + + PRAXINOÄ. + Sit down. + + GORGO. + Oh, what a thing is spirit! Here I am, + Praxinoä, safe at last from all that crowd + And all those chariots--every street a mass + Of boots and uniforms! And the road, my dear, + Seemed endless--you live now so far away! + + PRAXINOÄ. + This land's-end den--I cannot call it house-- + My madcap hired to keep us twain apart + And stir up strife. 'Twas like him, odious pest! + + GORGO. + Nay call not, dear, your lord, your Deinon, names + To the babe's face. Look how it stares at you! + There, baby dear, she never meant Papa! + It understands, by'r lady! Dear Papa! + + PRAXINOÄ. + Well, yesterday (that means what day you like) + 'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy; + He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one! + + GORGO. + Just such another is that pickpocket + My Diocleides. He bought t'other day + Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit. + What were they? scraps of worn-out pedlar's-bags, + Sheer trash.--But put your cloak and mantle on; + And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king, + To see the _Adonis_. As I hear, the queen + Provides us something gorgeous. + + PRAXINOÄ. + Ay, the grand + Can do things grandly. + + GORGO. + When you've seen yourself, + What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not. + 'Twere time we started! + + PRAXINOÄ. + All time's holiday + With idlers! Eunoä, pampered minx, the jug! + Set it down here--you cats would sleep all day + On cushions--Stir yourself, fetch water, quick! + Water's our first want. How she holds the jug! + Now, pour--not, cormorant, in that wasteful way-- + You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, enough: + I have made such toilet as my fates allowed. + Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick! + + GORGO. + My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well. + What did it stand you in, straight off the loom? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more. + Then I gave all my mind to trimming it. + + GORGO. + Well, 'tis a great success. + + PRAXINOÄ. + I think it is. + My mantle, Eunoä, and my parasol! + Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home! + Horses would bite you--Boo!--Yes, cry your fill, + But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off. + You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing: + Call the dog in: make fast the outer door! + + [_Exeunt_. + + Gods! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past + This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms? + Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much + Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now + Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the passer-by. + What games men played erewhile--men shaped in crime, + Birds of a feather, rascals every one! + --We're done for, Gorgo darling--here they are, + The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me! + That bay--the savage!--reared up straight on end! + Fly, Eunoä, can't you? Doggedly she stands. + He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am + My babe's at home. + + GORGO. + Praxinoä, never mind! + See, we're before them now, and they're in line. + + PRAXINOÄ. + There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared + Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on: + A surging multitude is close behind. + + GORGO [_to Old Lady_]. + From the palace, mother? + + OLD LADY. + Ay, child. + + GORGO. + Is it fair + Of access? + + OLD LADY. + Trying brought the Greeks to Troy. + Young ladies, they must try who would succeed. + + GORGO. + The crone hath said her oracle and gone. + Women know all--how Adam married Eve. + --Praxinoä, look what crowds are round the door! + + PRAXINOÄ. + Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoä, you + Hold Eutychis--hold tight or you'll be lost. + We'll enter in a body--hold us fast! + Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two, + Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman, + (And happiness be yours) respect my robe! + + STRANGER. + I could not if I would--nathless I will. + + PRAXINOÄ. + They come in hundreds, and they push like swine. + + STRANGER. + Lady, take courage: it is all well now. + + PRAXINOÄ. + And now and ever be it well with thee, + Sweet man, for shielding us! An honest soul + And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoä: + Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom said + And locked the door upon himself and bride. + + GORGO. + Praxinoä, look! Note well this broidery first. + How exquisitely fine--too good for earth! + Empress Athenè, what strange sempstress wrought + Such work? What painter painted, realized + Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move, + Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man! + How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch + Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek, + That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death! + + A STRANGER. + Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate! + Their brogue is killing--every word a drawl! + + GORGO. + Where did he spring from? Is our prattle aught + To you, Sir? Order your own slaves about: + You're ordering Syracusan ladies now! + + Corinthians bred (to tell you one fact more) + As was Bellerophon: islanders in speech, + For Dorians may talk Doric, I presume? + + PRAXINOÄ. + Persephonè! none lords it over me, + Save one! No scullion's-wage for us from _you_! + + GORGO. + Hush, dear. The Argive's daughter's going to sing + _The Adonis_: that accomplished vocalist + Who has no rival in "_The Sailor's Grave_." + Observe her attitudinizing now. + + _Song_. + Queen, who lov'st Golgi and the Sicel hill + And Ida; Aphroditè radiant-eyed; + The stealthy-footed Hours from Acheron's rill + Brought once again Adonis to thy side + How changed in twelve short months! They travel slow, + Those precious Hours: we hail their advent still, + For blessings do they bring to all below. + O Sea-born! thou didst erst, or legend lies, + Shed on a woman's soul thy grace benign, + And Berenicè's dust immortalize. + O called by many names, at many a shrine! + For thy sweet sake doth Berenicè's child + (Herself a second Helen) deck with all + That's fair, Adonis. On his right are piled + Ripe apples fallen from the oak-tree tall; + And silver caskets at his left support + Toy-gardens, Syrian scents enshrined in gold + And alabaster, cakes of every sort + That in their ovens the pastrywomen mould, + When with white meal they mix all flowers that bloom, + Oil-cakes and honey-cakes. There stand portrayed + Each bird, each butterfly; and in the gloom + Of foliage climbing high, and downward weighed + By graceful blossoms, do the young Loves play + Like nightingales, and perch on every tree, + And flit, to try their wings, from spray to spray. + Then see the gold, the ebony! Only see + The ivory-carven eagles, bearing up + To Zeus the boy who fills his royal cup! + Soft as a dream, such tapestry gleams o'erhead + As the Milesian's self would gaze on, charmed. + But sweet Adonis hath his own sweet bed: + Next Aphroditè sleeps the roseate-armed, + A bridegroom of eighteen or nineteen years. + Kiss the smooth boyish lip--there's no sting there! + The bride hath found her own: all bliss be hers! + And him at dewy dawn we'll troop to bear + Down where the breakers hiss against the shore: + There, with dishevelled dress and unbound hair, + Bare-bosomed all, our descant wild we'll pour: + + "Thou haunt'st, Adonis, earth and heaven in turn, + Alone of heroes. Agamemnon ne'er + Could compass this, nor Aias stout and stern: + Not Hector, eldest-born of her who bare + Ten sons, not Patrocles, nor safe-returned + From Ilion Pyrrhus, such distinction earned: + Nor, elder yet, the Lapithæ, the sons + Of Pelops and Deucalion; or the crown + Of Greece, Pelasgians. Gracious may'st thou be, + Adonis, now: pour new-year's blessings down! + Right welcome dost thou come, Adonis dear: + Come when thou wilt, thou'lt find a welcome here." + + GORGO. + 'Tis fine, Praxinoä! How I envy her + Her learning, and still more her luscious voice! + We must go home: my husband's supperless: + And, in that state, the man's just vinegar. + Don't cross his path when hungry! So farewell, + Adonis, and be housed 'mid welfare aye! + + + + +IDYLL XVI. + + +The Value of Song. + + What fires the Muse's, what the minstrel's lays? + Hers some immortal's, ours some hero's praise, + Heaven is her theme, as heavenly was her birth: + We, of earth earthy, sing the sons of earth. + Yet who, of all that see the gray morn rise, + Lifts not his latch and hails with eager eyes + My Songs, yet sends them guerdonless away? + Barefoot and angry homeward journey they, + Taunt him who sent them on that idle quest, + Then crouch them deep within their empty chest, + (When wageless they return, their dismal bed) + And hide on their chill knees once more their patient head. + Where are those good old times? Who thanks us, who, + For our good word? Men list not now to do + Great deeds and worthy of the minstrel's verse: + Vassals of gain, their hand is on their purse, + Their eyes on lucre: ne'er a rusty nail + They'll give in kindness; this being aye their tale:-- + + "Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer; + Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care. + We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought? + I call him chief of bards who costs me naught." + + Yet what if all your chests with gold are lined? + Is this enjoying wealth? Oh fools and blind! + Part on your heart's desire, on minstrels spend + Part; and your kindred and your kind befriend: + And daily to the gods bid altar-fires ascend. + Nor be ye churlish hosts, but glad the heart + Of guests with wine, when they must needs depart: + And reverence most the priests of sacred song: + So, when hell hides you, shall your names live long; + Not doomed to wail on Acheron's sunless sands, + Like some poor hind, the inward of whose hands + The spade hath gnarled and knotted, born to groan, + Poor sire's poor offspring, hapless Penury's own! + + Their monthly dole erewhile unnumbered thralls + Sought in Antiochus', in Aleuas' halls; + On to the Scopadæ's byres in endless line + The calves ran lowing with the hornèd kine; + And, marshalled by the good Creondæ's swains + Myriads of choice sheep basked on Cranron's plains. + Yet had their joyaunce ended, on the day + When their sweet spirit dispossessed its clay, + To hated Acheron's ample barge resigned. + Nameless, their stored-up luxury left behind, + With the lorn dead through ages had they lain, + Had not a minstrel bade them live again:-- + Had not in woven words the Ceïan sire + Holding sweet converse with his full-toned lyre + Made even their swift steeds for aye renowned, + When from the sacred lists they came home crowned. + Forgot were Lycia's chiefs, and Hector's hair + Of gold, and Cycnus femininely fair; + But that bards bring old battles back to mind. + Odysseus--he who roamed amongst mankind + A hundred years and more, reached utmost hell + Alive, and 'scaped the giant's hideous cell-- + Had lived and died: Eumæus and his swine; + Philoetius, busy with his herded kine; + And great Laërtes' self, had passed away, + Were not their names preserved in Homer's lay. + Through song alone may man true glory taste; + The dead man's riches his survivors waste. + + But count the waves, with yon gray wind-swept main + Borne shoreward: from a red brick wash his stain + In some pool's violet depths: 'twill task thee yet + To reach the heart on baleful avarice set. + To such I say 'Fare well': let theirs be store + Of wealth; but let them always crave for more: + Horses and mules inferior things _I_ find + To the esteem and love of all mankind. + + But to what mortal's roof may I repair, + I and my Muse, and find a welcome there? + I and my Muse: for minstrels fare but ill, + Reft of those maids, who know the mightiest's will. + The cycle of the years, it flags not yet; + In many a chariot many a steed shall sweat: + And one, to manhood grown, my lays shall claim, + Whose deeds shall rival great Achilles' fame, + Who from stout Aias might have won the prize + On Simois' plain, where Phrygian Ilus lies. + Now, in their sunset home on Libya's heel, + Phoenicia's sons unwonted chillness feel: + Now, with his targe of willow at his breast, + The Syracusan bears his spear in rest, + Amongst these Hiero arms him for the war, + Eager to fight as warriors fought of yore; + The plumes float darkling o'er his helmèd brow. + O Zeus, the sire most glorious; and O thou, + Empress Athenè; and thou, damsel fair, + Who with thy mother wast decreed to bear + Rule o'er rich Corinth, o'er that city of pride + Beside whose walls Anapus' waters glide:-- + May ill winds waft across the Southern sea + (Of late a legion, now but two or three,) + Far from our isle, our foes; the doom to tell, + To wife and child, of those they loved so well; + While the old race enjoy once more the lands + Spoiled and insulted erst by alien hands! + + And fair and fruitful may their cornlands be! + Their flocks in thousands bleat upon the lea, + Fat and full-fed; their kine, as home they wind, + The lagging traveller of his rest remind! + With might and main their fallows let them till: + Till comes the seedtime, and cicalas trill + (Hid from the toilers of the hot midday + In the thick leafage) on the topmost spray! + O'er shield and spear their webs let spiders spin, + And none so much as name the battle-din! + Then Hiero's lofty deeds may minstrels bear + Beyond the Scythian ocean-main, and where + Within those ample walls, with asphalt made + Time-proof, Semiramis her empire swayed. + I am but a single voice: but many a bard + Beside me do those heavenly maids regard: + May those all love to sing, 'mid earth's acclaim, + Of Sicel Arethuse, and Hiero's fame. + + O Graces, royal nurselings, who hold dear + The Minyæ's city, once the Theban's fear: + Unbidden I tarry, whither bidden I fare + My Muse my comrade. And be ye too there, + Sisters divine! Were ye and song forgot, + What grace had earth? With you be aye my lot! + + + + +IDYLL XVII. + + +The Praise of Ptolemy. + + With Zeus begin, sweet sisters, end with Zeus, + When ye would sing the sovereign of the skies: + But first among mankind rank Ptolemy; + First, last, and midmost; being past compare. + Those mighty ones of old, half men half gods, + Wrought deeds that shine in many a subtle strain; + I, no unpractised minstrel, sing but him; + Divinest ears disdain not minstrelsy. + But as a woodman sees green Ida rise + Pine above pine, and ponders which to fell + First of those myriads; even so I pause + Where to begin the chapter of his praise: + For thousand and ten thousand are the gifts + Wherewith high heaven hath graced the kingliest king. + + Was not he born to compass noblest ends, + Lagus' own son, so soon as he matured + Schemes such as ne'er had dawned on meaner minds? + Zeus doth esteem him as the blessèd gods; + In the sire's courts his golden mansion stands. + And near him Alexander sits and smiles, + The turbaned Persian's dread; and, fronting both, + Rises the stedfast adamantine seat + Erst fashioned for the bull-slayer Heracles. + Who there holds revels with his heavenly mates, + And sees, with joy exceeding, children rise + On children; for that Zeus exempts from age + And death their frames who sprang from Heracles: + And Ptolemy, like Alexander, claims + From him; his gallant son their common sire. + And when, the banquet o'er, the Strong Man wends, + Cloyed with rich nectar, home unto his wife, + This kinsman hath in charge his cherished shafts + And bow; and that his gnarled and knotted club; + And both to white-limbed Hebè's bower of bliss + Convoy the bearded warrior and his arms. + + Then how among wise ladies--blest the pair + That reared her!--peerless Berenicè shone! + Dionè's sacred child, the Cyprian queen, + O'er that sweet bosom passed her taper hands: + And hence, 'tis said, no man loved woman e'er + As Ptolemy loved her. She o'er-repaid + His love; so, nothing doubting, he could leave + His substance in his loyal children's care, + And rest with her, fond husband with fond wife. + She that loves not bears sons, but all unlike + Their father: for her heart was otherwhere. + + O Aphroditè, matchless e'en in heaven + For beauty, thou didst love her; wouldst not let + Thy Berenicè cross the wailful waves: + But thy hand snatched her--to the blue lake bound + Else, and the dead's grim ferryman--and enshrined + With thee, to share thy honours. There she sits, + To mortals ever kind, and passion soft + Inspires, and makes the lover's burden light. + The dark-browed Argive, linked with Tydeus, bare + Diomed the slayer, famed in Calydon: + And deep-veiled Thetis unto Peleus gave + The javelineer Achilles. Thou wast born + Of Berenicè, Ptolemy by name + And by descent, a warrior's warrior child. + Cos from its mother's arms her babe received, + Its destined nursery, on its natal day: + 'Twas there Antigonè's daughter in her pangs + Cried to the goddess that could bid them cease: + Who soon was at her side, and lo! her limbs + Forgat their anguish, and a child was born + Fair, its sire's self. Cos saw, and shouted loud; + Handled the babe all tenderly, and spake: + + "Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus doth + His azure-spherèd Delos: grace the hill + Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores, + As king Apollo his Rhenæa's isle." + + So spake the isle. An eagle high overhead + Poised in the clouds screamed thrice, the prophet-bird + Of Zeus, and sent by him. For awful kings + All are his care, those chiefliest on whose birth + He smiled: exceeding glory waits on them: + Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea. + But if a myriad realms spread far and wide + O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil + To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land + Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile + Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe? + Where are like cities, peopled by like men? + Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise, + Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all + He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy. + Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby, + Syria and Libya, and the Æthiops murk; + Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves, + The Lycian and the Carian trained to war, + And all the isles: for never fleet like his + Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike + And sounding rivers hail king Ptolemy. + Many are his horsemen, many his targeteers, + Whose burdened breast is bright with clashing steel: + Light are all royal treasuries, weighed with his. + For wealth from all climes travels day by day + To his rich realm, a hive of prosperous peace. + No foeman's tramp scares monster-peopled Nile, + Waking to war her far-off villages: + No armed robber from his war-ship leaps + To spoil the herds of Egypt. Such a prince + Sits throned in her broad plains, in whose right arm + Quivers the spear, the bright-haired Ptolemy. + Like a true king, he guards with might and main + The wealth his sires' arm won him and his own. + Nor strown all idly o'er his sumptuous halls + Lie piles that seem the work of labouring ants. + The holy homes of gods are rich therewith; + Theirs are the firstfruits, earnest aye of more. + And freely mighty kings thereof partake, + Freely great cities, freely honoured friends. + None entered e'er the sacred lists of song, + Whose lips could breathe sweet music, but he gained + Fair guerdon at the hand of Ptolemy. + And Ptolemy do music's votaries hymn + For his good gifts--hath man a fairer lot + Than to have earned much fame among mankind? + The Atridæ's name abides, while all the wealth + Won from the sack of Priam's stately home + A mist closed o'er it, to be seen no more. + Ptolemy, he only, treads a path whose dust + Burns with the footprints of his ancestors, + And overlays those footprints with his own. + He raised rich shrines to mother and to sire, + There reared their forms in ivory and gold, + Passing in beauty, to befriend mankind. + Thighs of fat oxen oftentimes he burns + On crimsoning altars, as the months roll on, + Ay he and his staunch wife. No fairer bride + E'er clasped her lord in royal palaces: + And her heart's love her brother-husband won. + In such blest union joined the immortal pair + Whom queenly Rhea bore, and heaven obeys: + One couch the maiden of the rainbow decks + With myrrh-dipt hands for Hera and for Zeus. + + Now farewell, prince! I rank thee aye with gods: + And read this lesson to the afterdays, + Mayhap they'll prize it: 'Honour is of Zeus.' + + + + +IDYLL XVIII. + + +The Bridal of Helen. + + Whilom, in Lacedæmon, + Tript many a maiden fair + To gold-tressed Menelaus' halls, + With hyacinths in her hair: + Twelve to the Painted Chamber, + The queenliest in the land, + The clustered loveliness of Greece, + Came dancing hand in hand. + For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter, + Had just been wooed and won, + Helen the darling of the world, + By Atreus' younger son: + With woven steps they beat the floor + In unison, and sang + Their bridal-hymn of triumph + Till all the palace rang. + + "Slumberest so soon, sweet bridegroom? + Art thou o'erfond of sleep? + Or hast thou leadenweighted limbs? + Or hadst thou drunk too deep + When thou didst fling thee to thy lair? + Betimes thou should'st have sped, + If sleep were all thy purpose, + Unto thy bachelor's bed: + And left her in her mother's arms + To nestle, and to play + A girl among her girlish mates + Till deep into the day:-- + For not alone for this night, + Nor for the next alone, + But through the days and through the years + Thou hast her for thine own. + + "Nay! heaven, O happy bridegroom, + Smiled as thou enteredst in + To Sparta, like thy brother kings, + And told thee thou should'st win! + What hero son-in-law of Zeus + Hath e'er aspired to be? + Yet lo! one coverlet enfolds + The child of Zeus, and thee. + Ne'er did a thing so lovely + Roam the Achaian lea. + + "And who shall match her offspring, + If babes are like their mother? + For we were playmates once, and ran + And raced with one another + (All varnished, warrior fashion) + Along Eurotas' tide, + Thrice eighty gentle maidens, + Each in her girlhood's pride: + Yet none of all seemed faultless, + If placed by Helen's side. + + "As peers the nascent Morning + Over thy shades, O Night, + When Winter disenchains the land, + And Spring goes forth in white: + So Helen shone above us, + All loveliness and light. + + "As climbs aloft some cypress, + Garden or glade to grace; + As the Thessalian courser lends + A lustre to the race: + So bright o'er Lacedæmon + Shone Helen's rosebud face. + + "And who into the basket e'er + The yarn so deftly drew, + Or through the mazes of the web + So well the shuttle threw, + And severed from the framework + As closelywov'n a warp:-- + And who could wake with masterhand + Such music from the harp, + To broadlimbed Pallas tuning + And Artemis her lay-- + As Helen, Helen in whose eyes + The Loves for ever play? + + "O bright, O beautiful, for thee + Are matron-cares begun. + We to green paths and blossomed meads + With dawn of morn must run, + And cull a breathing chaplet; + And still our dream shall be, + Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs + Yearn in the pasture for the dams + That nursed their infancy. + + "For thee the lowly lotus-bed + We'll spoil, and plait a crown + To hang upon the shadowy plane; + For thee will we drop down + ('Neath that same shadowy platan) + Oil from our silver urn; + And carven on the bark shall be + This sentence, 'HALLOW HELEN'S TREE'; + In Dorian letters, legibly + For all men to discern. + + "Now farewell, bride, and bridegroom + Blest in thy new-found sire! + May Leto, mother of the brave, + Bring babes at your desire, + And holy Cypris either's breast + With mutual transport fire: + And Zeus the son of Cronos + Grant blessings without end, + From princely sire to princely son + For ever to descend. + + "Sleep on, and love and longing + Breathe in each other's breast; + But fail not when the morn returns + To rouse you from your rest: + With dawn shall we be stirring, + When, lifting high his fair + And feathered neck, the earliest bird + To clarion to the dawn is heard. + O god of brides and bridals, + Sing 'Happy, happy pair!'" + + + + +IDYLL XIX. + + +Love Stealing Honey. + + Once thievish Love the honeyed hives would rob, + When a bee stung him: soon he felt a throb + Through all his finger-tips, and, wild with pain, + Blew on his hands and stamped and jumped in vain. + To Aphroditè then he told his woe: + 'How can a thing so tiny hurt one so?' + She smiled and said; 'Why thou'rt a tiny thing, + As is the bee; yet sorely thou canst sting.' + + + + +IDYLL XX. + + +Town and Country + + Once I would kiss Eunicè. "Back," quoth she, + And screamed and stormed; "a sorry clown kiss me? + Your country compliments, I like not such; + No lips but gentles' would I deign to touch. + Ne'er dream of kissing me: alike I shun + Your face, your language, and your tigerish fun. + How winning are your tones, how fine your air! + Your beard how silken and how sweet your hair! + Pah! you've a sick man's lips, a blackamoor's hand: + Your breath's defilement. Leave me, I command." + + Thrice spat she on her robe, and, muttering low, + Scanned me, with half-shut eyes, from top to toe: + Brought all her woman's witcheries into play, + Still smiling in a set sarcastic way, + Till my blood boiled, my visage crimson grew + With indignation, as a rose with dew: + And so she left me, inly to repine + That such as she could flout such charms as mine. + + O shepherds, tell me true! Am I not fair? + Am I transformed? For lately I did wear + Grace as a garment; and my cheeks, o'er them + Ran the rich growth like ivy round the stem. + Like fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed; + O'er my dark eyebrows, white my forehead gleamed: + My eyes were of Athenè's radiant blue, + My mouth was milk, its accents honeydew. + Then I could sing--my tones were soft indeed!-- + To pipe or flute or flageolet or reed: + And me did every maid that roams the fell + Kiss and call fair: not so this city belle. + She scorns the herdsman; knows not how divine + Bacchus ranged once the valleys with his kine; + How Cypris, maddened for a herdsman's sake, + Deigned upon Phrygia's mountains to partake + His cares: and wooed, and wept, Adonis in the brake. + What was Endymion, sweet Selenè's love? + A herdsman's lad. Yet came she from above, + Down to green Latmos, by his side to sleep. + And did not Rhea for a herdsman weep? + Didst not thou, Zeus, become a wandering bird, + To win the love of one who drove a herd? + Selenè, Cybelè, Cypris, all loved swains: + Eunicè, loftier-bred, their kiss disdains. + Henceforth, by hill or hall, thy love disown, + Cypris, and sleep the livelong night alone. + + + + +IDYLL XXI. + + +The Fishermen. + +_ASPHALION, A COMRADE._ + + Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work, + O Diophantus: for the child of toil + Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares: + Or, if he taste the blessedness of night, + Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off. + + Two ancient fishers once lay side by side + On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut, + Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay + The weapons of their trade, basket and rod, + Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars, + And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat. + Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out + With caps and garments: such the ways and means, + Such the whole treasury of the fishermen. + They knew no luxuries: owned nor door nor dog; + Their craft their all, their mistress Poverty: + Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye + Bound their lorn hut came floating lazily. + + Ere the moon's chariot was in mid-career, + The fishers girt them for their customed toil, + And banished slumber from unwilling eyes, + And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:-- + + ASPHALION. + "They say that soon flit summer-nights away, + Because all lingering is the summer day: + Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I + Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky. + How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?" + + HIS COMRADE. + "Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so. + 'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong, + But care maims slumber, and the nights seem long." + + ASPHALION. + "Didst thou e'er study dreams? For visions fair + I saw last night; and fairly thou should'st share + The wealth I dream of, as the fish I catch. + Now, for sheer sense, I reckon few thy match; + And, for a vision, he whose motherwit + Is his sole tutor best interprets it. + And now we've time the matter to discuss: + For who could labour, lying here (like us) + Pillowed on leaves and neighboured by the deep, + Or sleeping amid thorns no easy sleep? + In rich men's halls the lamps are burning yet; + But fish come alway to the rich man's net." + + COMRADE. + "To me the vision of the night relate; + Speak, and reveal the riddle to thy mate." + + ASPHALION. + "Last evening, as I plied my watery trade, + (Not on an o'erfull stomach--we had made + Betimes a meagre meal, as you can vouch,) + I fell asleep; and lo! I seemed to crouch + Among the boulders, and for fish to wait, + Still dangling, rod in hand, my vagrant bait. + A fat fellow caught it: (e'en in sleep I'm bound + To dream of fishing, as of crusts the hound:) + Fast clung he to the hooks; his blood outwelled; + Bent with his struggling was the rod I held: + I tugged and tugged: my efforts made me ache: + 'How, with a line thus slight, this monster take?' + Then gently, just to warn him he was caught, + I twitched him once; then slacked and then made taut + My line, for now he offered not to ran; + A glance soon showed me all my task was done. + 'Twas a gold fish, pure metal every inch + That I had captured. I began to flinch: + 'What if this beauty be the sea-king's joy, + Or azure Amphitritè's treasured toy!' + With care I disengaged him--not to rip + With hasty hook the gilding from his lip: + And with a tow-line landed him, and swore + Never to set my foot on ocean more, + But with my gold live royally ashore. + So I awoke: and, comrade, lend me now + Thy wits, for I am troubled for my vow." + + COMRADE. + "Ne'er quake: you're pledged to nothing, for no prize + You gained or gazed on. Dreams are nought but lies. + Yet may this dream bear fruit; if, wide-awake + And not in dreams, you'll fish the neighbouring lake. + Fish that are meat you'll there mayhap behold, + Not die of famine, amid dreams of gold." + + + + +IDYLL XXII. + + +The Sons of Leda + + The pair I sing, that Ægis-armèd Zeus + Gave unto Leda; Castor and the dread + Of bruisers Polydeuces, whensoe'er + His harnessed hands were lifted for the fray. + Twice and again I sing the manly sons + Of Leda, those Twin Brethren, Sparta's own: + Who shield the soldier on the deadly scarp, + The horse wild-plunging o'er the crimson field, + The ship that, disregarding in her pride + Star-set and star-rise, meets disastrous gales:-- + Such gales as pile the billows mountain-high, + E'en at their own wild will, round stem or stern: + Dash o'er the hold, the timbers rive in twain, + Till mast and tackle dangle in mid-air + Shivered like toys, and, as the night wears on, + The rain of heaven falls fast, and, lashed by wind + And iron hail, broad ocean rings again. + Then can they draw from out the nether abyss + Both craft and crew, each deeming he must die: + Lo the winds cease, and o'er the burnished deep + Comes stillness; this way flee the clouds and that; + And shine out clear the Great Bear and the Less, + And, 'twixt the Asses dimly seen, the Crib + Foretells fair voyage to the mariner. + O saviours, O companions of mankind, + Matchless on horse or harp, in lists or lay; + Which of ye twain demands my earliest song? + Of both I sing; of Polydeuces first. + + Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks, + And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws, + Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight; + There by one ladder disembarked a host + Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship. + On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff, + They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires: + Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed, + And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face, + Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both, + Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found + Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring + Brimful of purest water. In the depths + Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed + The pebbles: high above it pine and plane + And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green; + With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes + The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee. + There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk + And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears: + Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbèd chest; + Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame: + And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm + Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones + Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth + By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine + Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin. + Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:-- + + POLYDEUCES. + Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore? + + AMYCUS. + Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before! + + POLYDEUCES. + Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we. + + AMYCUS. + Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee. + + POLYDEUCES. + What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king? + + AMYCUS. + E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing. + + POLYDEUCES. + Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go. + + AMYCUS. + I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow. + + POLYDEUCES. + Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip? + + AMYCUS. + Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip. + + POLYDEUCES. + Can silver move thee? or if not, what can? + + AMYCUS. + Stand up and fight me singly, man with man. + + POLYDEUCES. + With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye? + + AMYCUS. + Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try. + + POLYDEUCES. + This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand? + + AMYCUS. + I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand. + + POLYDEUCES. + Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign? + + AMYCUS. + Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine. + + POLYDEUCES. + By crimson-crested cocks such games are won. + + AMYCUS. + Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none. + + He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew + His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine + Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long, + Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too, + The peerless in the lists, went forth and called + From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all. + + Then either warrior armed with coils of hide + His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands, + And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring. + First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch + The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil, + O Polydeuces, valour by address; + And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote. + He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war; + Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed, + Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still, + And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows. + Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered + Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space + This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down. + But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus + Scored him with swift exchange of left and right, + And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child + Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds, + He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood. + Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw + The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars, + And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes. + Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there + A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all, + Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose, + And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man + Measured his length supine amid the fern. + Keen was the fighting when he rose again, + Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt. + But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest + And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe + Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds. + While the one sweated all his bulk away, + And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now, + The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought + In semblance and in size. But in what wise + The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed, + Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold + A secret not mine own; at thy behest + Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt. + + Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed, + Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge + Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved + From his right hip his ponderous other-arm. + And hit and harmed had been Amyclæ's king; + But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist + The foe's left temple--fast the life-blood streamed + From the grim rift--and on his shoulder fell. + While with his left he reached the mouth, and made + The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye + His plashing blows, made havoc of his face + And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad + He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed + The strife, for he was even at death's door. + No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands, + O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath, + Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths, + Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more. + + Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I thee, + Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse + And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass. + + + PART II. + + The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away, + Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit + Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus, + Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords. + And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained, + All leapt from out their cars, and front to front + Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields. + First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm: + + "Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in hand, + Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives? + To us Leucippus these his daughters gave, + Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath. + Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed + And kine and asses and whatever is his, + Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes. + How often spake I thus before your face, + Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase: + 'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men + Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere. + Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds + Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad, + And Argos and Messene and the towns + To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach. + There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid + Second to none in godliness or wit: + Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will, + For all men court the kinship of the brave; + And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood + Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war. + Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass; + Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.' + So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas + The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace + With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice. + Yet listen to me now if ne'er before: + Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side. + But if ye lust for war, if strife must break + Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud, + Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands + And his cousin Idas from the abhorrèd fray: + While I and Castor, the two younger-born, + Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires + Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead + Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates, + To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave, + And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were + At cost so small to lay so huge a strife." + + He spoke--his words heaven gave not to the winds. + They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled + Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring, + And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear. + And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance; + High waved the plume on either warrior's helm. + First each at other thrust with busy spear + Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed: + But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields + Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain. + Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new modes + Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none. + Oft Castor on broad shield and plumèd helm + Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield, + Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon, + As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee, + Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off + His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword. + And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb + He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw + The battle of the brethren. But the child + Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave + Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke + His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell, + And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep. + Nor did their mother see her elder son + Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home. + For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb + A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man + Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid, + And struck the marble fabric from his grasp, + And with red lightning burned his frame to dust. + So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke + The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire. + Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye + The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well + The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs + That trod Troy down for Meneläus' sake? + The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds + Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state, + And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks, + And of Achilles towering in the strife. + Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song + The Muse accords me, even all my store! + The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy. + + + + +IDYLL XXIII. + + +Love Avenged + + A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one + Whose mood was froward as her face was fair. + Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none: + Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he bare + A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart: + Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart. + + So he found naught his furnace to allay; + No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind eyes, + Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play + Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are shy + Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she; + Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously. + + Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face, + That flushed, then altering put on blank disdain. + Yet, even then, her anger had its grace, + And made her lover fall in love again. + At last, unable to endure his flame, + To the fell threshold all in tears he came: + + Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said: + "O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid + Unworthy of all love, by lions bred, + See, my last offering at thy feet is laid, + The halter that shall hang me! So no more + For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore. + + Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare. + There is a path, that whoso treads hath ease + (Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there. + But if I drain that chalice to the lees, + I may not quench the love I have for you; + Now at your gates I cast my long adieu. + + Your future I foresee. The rose is gay, + And passing-sweet the violet of the spring: + Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay. + The lily droops and dies, that lustrous thing; + The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast; + And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last. + + The time shall come, when you shall feel as I; + And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter tear. + But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy. + When you come forth, and see me hanging here, + E'en at your door, forget not my hard case; + But pause and weep me for a moment's space. + + And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread + O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall, + That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me--let the dead + Be privileged thus highly--last of all. + You need not fear me: not if your disdain + Changed into fondness could I live again. + + And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me: + And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no more:' + Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;' + And write this epitaph, scratched upon your door: + _Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until + Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him ill_.'" + + This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone + At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he laid, + And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown, + And his neck noosed. In air the body swayed, + Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more + The maid, and saw him hanging at her door. + + No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear + She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to soil, + By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear. + But on she went to watch the athletes' toil, + Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside: + And there she met the god she had defied. + + For on a marble pedestal Eros stood + Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and smote + And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood; + And to the top a girl's cry seemed to float. + Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell; + And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well. + + + + +IDYLL XXIV. + + +The Infant Heracles. + + Alcmena once had washed and given the breast + To Heracles, a babe of ten months old, + And Iphicles his junior by a night; + And cradled both within a brazen shield, + A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst + Had stript from Ptereläus fall'n in fight. + She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said: + + "Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep, + Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life: + Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!" + + She spake and rocked the shield; and in his arms + Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear + Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front + Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent, + Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things, + Snakes with their scales of azure all on end, + To the broad portal of the chamber-door, + All to devour the infant Heracles. + They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor, + Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light + Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth. + But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot, + Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all) + Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light. + Then Iphicles--so soon as he descried + The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield, + And saw their merciless fangs--cried lustily, + And kicked away his coverlet of down, + Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung + Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp + Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat, + The deadly snake's laboratory, where + He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors. + They twined and twisted round the babe that, born + After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear + E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold, + For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard, + While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke. + + "Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on me. + Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet. + Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries? + Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night, + But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know, + Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening here." + + She spake; and he, upleaping at her call, + Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device + That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch: + And he was reaching at his span-new belt, + The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood) + Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night + Spread out her hands, and all was dark again. + Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep: + "Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth: + And force with all your strength the doorbolts back! + Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls." + + Forth came at once the slaves with lighted lamps. + The house was all astir with hurrying feet. + But when they saw the suckling Heracles + With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands, + They shouted with one voice. But he must show + The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft + His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid + At his sire's feet the monsters still in death. + + Then did Alcmena to her bosom take + The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles: + Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt, + Her lord once more bethought him of his rest. + + Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was e'er. + Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing + To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth, + And bade him rede her what the end should be:-- + 'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not, + Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid + The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins. + Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.' + + Thus spake the queen, and thus he made reply: + "Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart; + And look but on the fairer side of things. + For by the precious light that long ago + Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft + Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high + They mould the silken yarn upon their lap, + Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou + Of women. Such a man in this thy son + Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven: + His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord + Of all the forest beasts and all mankind. + Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus; + His flesh given over to Trachinian fires; + And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods + Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe. + Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch + In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth + That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep + Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles + Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze + Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind: + And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes + At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe. + And let at dawn some handmaid gather up + The ashes of the fire, and diligently + Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream + Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return + Nor look behind. And purify your home + First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then, + (Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,) + Innocuous water, and the customed salt. + Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar: + So shall ye vanquish all your enemies." + + Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his years + Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car. + And Heracles as some young orchard-tree + Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire. + Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child, + A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp. + Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell, + The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man + By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er, + Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they + Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art, + Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore + Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son: + Whom no man might behold while yet far off + And wait his armed onset undismayed: + A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face. + To launch, and steer in safety round the goal, + Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel, + This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self. + Many a fair prize from listed warriors he + Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car + Whereon he sat came still unshattered home, + What gaps were in his harness time had made. + Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe + Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword; + Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade, + Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers; + This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled + From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth + Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received + Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand. + Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match + Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth. + + Such tutors this fond mother gave her son. + The stripling's bed was at his father's side, + One after his own heart, a lion's skin. + His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled + A Dorian basket, you might soothly say + Had satisfied a delver; and to close + The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal. + A simple frock went halfway down his leg: + + * * * * * + + + + +IDYLL XXV. + + +Heracles the Lion Slayer. + + * * * * * + + To whom thus spake the herdsman of the herd, + Pausing a moment from his handiwork: + "Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear + The angry looks of Hermes of the roads. + No dweller in the skies is wroth as he, + With him who saith the asking traveller nay. + + "The flocks Augéas owns, our gracious lord, + One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds. + They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks + Or god-beloved Alphéus' sacred stream, + Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds, + Some here: their folds stand separate. But before + His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades + That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair + For ever: for the low-lying meadows take + The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet, + To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine. + Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry + By the flowing river, for all eyes to see: + Here, where the platans blossom all the year, + And glimmers green the olive that enshrines + Rural Apollo, most august of gods. + Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us + His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main + His riches that are more than tongue may tell: + Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd + Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof + Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet + Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time. + Yea, all these acres wise Augéas owns, + These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green, + Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap. + Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont + Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day. + But prythee tell me thou--so shalt thou best + Serve thine own interests--wherefore art thou here? + Seeking Augéas, or mayhap some slave + That serves him? I can tell thee and I will + All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood + Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl: + That read I in thy stateliness of form; + The sons of heaven move thus among mankind." + + Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus. + "Yea, veteran, I would see the Epéan King + Augéas; surely for this end I came. + If he bides there amongst his citizens, + Ruling the folk, determining the laws, + Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide, + Some honoured master-worker in the fields, + Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply. + Are not we made dependent each on each?" + + To him the good old swain made answer thus: + "Stranger, some god hath timed thy visit here, + And given thee straightway all thy heart's desire. + Hither Augéas, offspring of the Sun, + Came, with young Phyleus splendid in his strength, + But yesterday from the city, to review + (Not in one day) his multitudinous wealth, + Methinks e'en princes say within themselves, + 'The safeguard of the flock's the master's eye.' + But haste, we'll seek him: to my own fold I + Will pilot thee; there haply find the King." + + He said and went in front: but pondered much + (As he surveyed the lion-skin and the club, + Itself an armful) whence this stranger came; + And fain had asked. But fear recalled the words + That trembled on his lip, the fear to say + Aught that his fiery friend might take amiss. + For who can fathom all his fellow's mind? + + The dogs perceived their coming, yet far off: + They scented flesh, they heard the thud of feet: + And with wild gallop, baying furiously, + Ran at Amphitryon's son: but feebly whined + And fawned upon the old man at his side. + Then Heracles, just lifting from the ground + A pebble, scared them home, and with hard words + Cursed the whole pack; and having stopped their din + (Inly rejoiced, nathless, to see them guard + So well an absent master's house) he spake: + + "Lo! what a friend the royal gods have given + Man in the dog! A trusty servant he! + Had he withal an understanding heart, + To teach him when to rage and when forbear, + What brute could claim like praise? But, lacking wit, + 'Tis but a passionate random-raving thing." + + He spake: the dogs ran scurrying to their lairs. + And now the sun wheeled round his westering car + And led still evening on: from every field + Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre. + Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine + Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven + By stress of gales, the west or mighty north, + Come up o'er all the heaven; and none may count + And naught may stay them as they sweep through air; + Such multitudes the storm's strength drives ahead, + Such multitudes climb surging in the rear-- + So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove, + And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed + With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas + Rang with their lowing. Soon enough the stalls + Were populous with the laggard-footed kine, + Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds. + Then of that legion none stood idle, none + Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do: + But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs + Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet: + One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved, + The longing young ones to the longing dams. + One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese, + Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine. + Pacing from stall to stall, Augéas saw + What revenue his herdsman brought him in. + With him his son surveyed the royal wealth, + And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles. + Then, though the heart within him was as steel, + Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon's son + Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine; + For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten, + Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes: + Such huge largess the Sun had given his child, + First of mankind for multitude of flocks. + The Sun himself gave increase day by day + To his child's herds: whatever diseases spoil + The farmer, came not there; his kine increased + In multitude and value year by year: + None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males. + Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned, + Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans, + Sires of a race to be: and twelve besides + Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun. + Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved + Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot. + Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain + They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields: + And when from the dense jungle to the plain + Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows; + Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war. + Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death, + Foremost of all for mettle and for might + And pride of heart loomed Phaeton: him the swains + Regarded as a star; so bright he shone + Among the herd, the cynosure of eyes. + He, soon as he descried the sun-dried skin + Of the grim lion, made at Heracles + (Whose eye was on him)--fain to make his crest + And sturdy brow acquainted with his flanks. + Straight the prince grasped him with no tender grasp + By the left horn, and bowed that giant bulk + To earth, neck foremost: then, by pressure brought + To bear upon his shoulder, forced him back. + The web of muscles that enwraps the nerves + Stood out from the brute's fore-arm plain to see. + Marvelled the King, and Phyleus his brave son, + At the strange prowess of Amphitryon's child. + + Then townwards, leaving straight that rich champaign, + Stout Heracles his comrade, Phyleus fared; + And soon as they had gained the paven road, + Making their way hotfooted o'er a path + (Not o'er-conspicuous in the dim green wood) + That left the farm and threaded through the vines, + Out-spake unto the child of Zeus most high, + Who followed in his steps, Augéas' son, + O'er his right shoulder glancing pleasantly. + + "O stranger, as some old familiar tale + I seem to cast thy history in my mind. + For there came one to Argos, young and tall, + By birth a Greek from Helicè-on-seas, + Who told this tale before a multitude: + How that an Argive in his presence slew + A fearful lion-beast, the dread and death + Of herdsmen; which inhabited a den + Or cavern by the grove of Nemean Zeus. + He may have come from sacred Argos' self, + Or Tiryns, or Mycenæ: what know I? + But thus he told his tale, and said the slayer + Was (if my memory serves me) Perseus' son. + Methinks no islander had dared that deed + Save thee: the lion's skin that wraps thy ribs + Argues full well some gallant feat of arms. + But tell me, warrior, first--that I may know + If my prophetic soul speak truth or not-- + Art thou the man of whom that stranger Greek + Spoke in my hearing? Have I guessed aright? + How slew you single-handed that fell beast? + How came it among rivered Nemea's glens? + For none such monster could the eagerest eye + Find in all Greece: Greece harbours bear and boar, + And deadly wolf: but not this larger game. + 'Twas this that made his listeners marvel then: + They deemed he told them travellers' tales, to win + By random words applause from standers-by." + + Then Phyleus from the mid-road edged away, + That both might walk abreast, and he might catch + More at his ease what fell from Heracles: + Who journeying now alongside thus began:-- + + "On the prior matter, O Augéas' child, + Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright. + But all that monster's history, how it fell, + Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear, + Save only whence it came: for none of all + The Argive host could read that riddle right. + Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows + Resenting, had upon Phoroneus' realm + Let loose this very scourge of humankind. + On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood + The brute ran riot: notably it cost + Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold. + And here Eurystheus bade me try my first + Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing. + So with my buxom bow and quiver lined + With arrows I set forth: my left hand held + My club, a beetling olive's stalwart trunk + And shapely, still environed in its bark: + This hand had torn from holiest Helicon + The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots. + And finding soon the lion's whereabouts, + I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped + The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death. + And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing, + In hopes to view him ere he spied out me. + But midday came, and nowhere could I see + One footprint of the beast or hear his roar: + And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask, + Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea; + For wan dismay kept each man in his hut. + Still on I footed, searching through and through + The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw + The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength. + Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked + At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane, + Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip + With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips. + I, crouched among the shadows of the trees + On the green hill-top, waited his approach, + And as he came I aimed at his left flank. + The barbèd shaft sped idly, nor could pierce + The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass. + He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head, + And ran his eyes o'er all the vicinage, + And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat. + Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft, + Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain. + In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs + Are seated: still the arrow sank not in, + But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet. + Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined, + To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast + Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides + With his huge tail, and opened war at once. + Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end + With rage: his spine moved sinuous as a bow, + Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin. + And e'en as, when a chariot-builder bends + With practised skill his shafts of splintered fig, + Hot from the fire, to be his axle-wheels; + Flies the tough-rinded sapling from the hands + That shape it, at a bound recoiling far: + So from far-off the dread beast, all of a heap, + Sprang on me, hungering for my life-blood. I + Thrust with one hand my arrows in his face + And my doffed doublet, while the other raised + My seasoned cudgel o'er his crest, and drave + Full at his temples, breaking clean in twain + On the fourfooted warrior's airy scalp + My club; and ere he reached me, down he fell. + Headlong he fell, and poised on tremulous feet + Stood, his head wagging, and his eyes grown dim; + For the shrewd stroke had shattered brain and bone. + I, marking him beside himself with pain. + Fell, ere recovering he should breathe again, + At vantage on his solid sinewy neck, + My bow and woven quiver thrown aside. + With iron clasp I gripped him from the rear + (His talons else had torn me) and, my foot + Set on him, forced to earth by dint of heel + His hinder parts, my flanks entrenched the while + Behind his fore-arm; till his thews were stretched + And strained, and on his haunches stark he stood + And lifeless; hell received his monstrous ghost. + Then with myself I counselled how to strip + From off the dead beast's limbs his shaggy hide, + A task full onerous, since I found it proof + Against all blows of steel or stone or wood. + Some god at last inspired me with the thought, + With his own claws to rend the lion's skin. + With these I flayed him soon, and sheathed and armed + My limbs against the shocks of murderous war. + Thus, sir, the Nemean lion met his end, + Erewhile the constant curse of beast and man." + + + + +IDYLL XXVI. + + +The Bacchanals. + + Agavè of the vermeil-tinted cheek + And Ino and Autonoä marshalled erst + Three bands of revellers under one hill-peak. + They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage first, + Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel; + And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden fell: + + To Semelè three, to Dionysus nine. + Next, from a vase drew offerings subtly wrought, + And prayed and placed them on each fresh green shrine; + So by the god, who loved such tribute, taught. + Perched on the sheer cliff, Pentheus could espy + All, in a mastick hoar ensconced that grew thereby. + + Autonoä marked him, and with, frightful cries + Flew to make havoc of those mysteries weird + That must not be profaned by vulgar eyes. + Her frenzy frenzied all. Then Pentheus feared + And fled: and in his wake those damsels three, + Each with her trailing robe up-gathered to the knee. + + "What will ye, dames," quoth Pentheus. "Thou shalt guess + At what we mean, untold," Autonoä said. + Agavè moaned--so moans a lioness + Over her young one--as she clutched his head: + While Ino on the carcass fairly laid + Her heel, and wrenched away shoulder and shoulder-blade. + + Autonoä's turn came next: and what remained + Of flesh their damsels did among them share, + And back to Thebes they came all carnage-stained, + And planted not a king but aching there. + Warned by this tale, let no man dare defy + Great Bacchus; lest a death more awful he should die, + + And when he counts nine years or scarcely ten, + Rush to his ruin. May I pass my days + Uprightly, and be loved of upright men! + And take this motto, all who covet praise: + ('Twas Ægis-bearing Zeus that spake it first:) + 'The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.' + + Now bless ye Bacchus, whom on mountain snows, + Prisoned in his thigh till then, the Almighty laid. + And bless ye fairfaced Semelè, and those + Her sisters, hymned of many a hero-maid, + Who wrought, by Bacchus fired, a deed which none + May gainsay--who shall blame that which a god hath done? + + + + +IDYLL XXVII. + + +A Countryman's Wooing. + +_DAPHNIS. A MAIDEN_. + + THE MAIDEN. + How fell sage Helen? through a swain like thee. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay the true Helen's just now kissing me. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, ne'er boast: 'what's idler than a kiss?' + + DAPHNIS. + Yet in such pleasant idling there is bliss. + + THE MAIDEN. + I'll wash my mouth: where go thy kisses then? + + DAPHNIS. + Wash, and return it--to be kissed again. + + THE MAIDEN. + Go kiss your oxen, and not unwed maids. + + DAPHNIS. + Ne'er boast; for beauty is a dream that fades. + + THE MAIDEN. + Past grapes are grapes: dead roses keep their smell. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon olives: I have a tale to tell. + + THE MAIDEN. + Not I: you fooled me with smooth words before. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon elms, and hear me pipe once more. + + THE MAIDEN. + Pipe to yourself: your piping makes me cry. + + DAPHNIS. + A maid, and flout the Paphian? Fie, oh fie! + + THE MAIDEN. + She's naught to me, if Artemis' favour last. + + DAPHNIS. + Hush, ere she smite you and entrap you fast. + + THE MAIDEN. + And let her smite me, trap me as she will! + + DAPHNIS. + Your Artemis shall be your saviour still? + + THE MAIDEN. + Unhand me! What, again? I'll tear your lip. + + DAPHNIS. + Can you, could damsel e'er, give Love the slip? + + THE MAIDEN. + You are his bondslave, but not I by Pan! + + DAPHNIS. + I doubt he'll give thee to a worser man. + + THE MAIDEN. + Many have wooed me, but I fancied none. + + DAPHNIS. + Till among many came the destined _one_. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wedlock is woe. Dear lad, what can I do? + + DAPHNIS. + Woe it is not, but joy and dancing too. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wives dread their husbands: so I've heard it said. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay, they rule o'er them. What does woman dread? + + THE MAIDEN. + Then children--Eileithya's dart is keen. + + DAPHNIS. + But the deliverer, Artemis, is your queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + And bearing children all our grace destroys. + + DAPHNIS. + Bear them and shine more lustrous in your boys. + + THE MAIDEN. + Should I say yea, what dower awaits me then? + + DAPHNIS. + Thine are my cattle, thine this glade and glen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Swear not to wed, then leave me in my woe? + + DAPHNIS. + Not I by Pan, though thou should'st bid me go. + + THE MAIDEN. + And shall a cot be mine, with farm and fold! + + DAPHNIS. + Thy cot's half-built, fair wethers range this wold. + + THE MAIDEN. + What, what to my old father must I say? + + DAPHNIS. + Soon as he hears my name he'll not say nay. + + THE MAIDEN. + Speak it: by e'en a name we're oft beguiled. + + DAPHNIS. + I'm Daphnis, Lycid's and Nomæa's child. + + THE MAIDEN. + Well-born indeed: and not less so am I. + + DAPHNIS. + I know--Menalcas' daughter may look high. + + THE MAIDEN. + That grove, where stands your sheepfold, shew me please. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay look, how green, how tall my cypress-trees. + + THE MAIDEN. + Graze, goats: I go to learn the herdsman's trade. + + DAPHNIS. + Feed, bulls: I shew my copses to my maid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, what mean you? You presume o'ermuch. + + DAPHNIS. + This waist is round, and pleasant to the touch. + + THE MAIDEN. + By Pan, I'm like to swoon! Unhand me pray! + + DAPHNIS. + Why be so timorous? Pretty coward, stay. + + THE MAIDEN. + This bank is wet: you've soiled my pretty gown. + + DAPHNIS. + See, a soft fleece to guard it I put down. + + THE MAIDEN. + And you've purloined my sash. What can this mean? + + DAPHNIS. + This sash I'll offer to the Paphian queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Stay, miscreant--some one comes--I heard a noise. + + DAPHNIS. + 'Tis but the green trees whispering of our joys. + + THE MAIDEN. + You've torn my plaidie, and I am half unclad. + + DAPHNIS. + Anon I'll give thee a yet ampler plaid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Generous just now, you'll one day grudge me bread. + + DAPHNIS. + Ah! for thy sake my life-blood I could shed. + + THE MAIDEN. + Artemis, forgive! Thy eremite breaks her vow. + + DAPHNIS. + Love, and Love's mother, claim a calf and cow. + + THE MAIDEN. + A woman I depart, my girlhood o'er. + + DAPHNIS. + Be wife, be mother; but a girl no more. + + Thus interchanging whispered talk the pair, + Their faces all aglow, long lingered there. + At length the hour arrived when they must part. + With downcast eyes, but sunshine in her heart, + She went to tend her flock; while Daphnis ran + Back to his herded bulls, a happy man. + + + + +IDYLL XXVIII. + + +The Distaff. + + Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's gift + To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household thrift, + Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a plain + Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphroditè's hallowed fane. + Thither ask I Zeus to waft me, fain to see my old friend's face, + Nicias, o'er whose birth presided every passion-breathing Grace; + Fain to meet his answering welcome; and anon deposit thee + In his lady's hands, thou marvel of laborious ivory. + Many a manly robe ye'll fashion, much translucent maiden's gear; + Nay, should e'er the fleecy mothers twice within the selfsame year + Yield their wool in yonder pasture, Theugenis of the dainty feet + Would perform the double labour: matron's cares to her are sweet. + To an idler or a trifler I had verily been loth + To resign thee, O my distaff, for the same land bred us both: + In the land Corinthian Archias built aforetime, thou hadst birth, + In our island's core and marrow, whence have sprung the kings of earth: + To the home I now transfer thee of a man who knows full well + Every craft whereby men's bodies dire diseases may repel: + There to live in sweet Miletus. Lady of the Distaff she + Shall be named, and oft reminded of her poet-friend by thee: + Men shall look on thee and murmur to each other, 'Lo! how small + Was the gift, and yet how precious! Friendship's gifts are priceless + all.' + + + + +IDYLL XXIX. + + +Loves. + + 'Sincerity comes with the wine-cup,' my dear: + Then now o'er our wine-cups let us be sincere. + My soul's treasured secret to you I'll impart; + It is this; that I never won fairly your heart. + One half of my life, I am conscious, has flown; + The residue lives on your image alone. + You are kind, and I dream I'm in paradise then; + You are angry, and lo! all is darkness again. + It is right to torment one who loves you? Obey + Your elder; 'twere best; and you'll thank me one day. + Settle down in one nest on one tree (taking care + That no cruel reptile can clamber up there); + As it is with your lovers you're fairly perplext; + One day you choose one bough, another the next. + Whoe'er at all struck by your graces appears, + Is more to you straight than the comrade of years; + While he's like the friend of a day put aside; + For the breath of your nostrils, I think, is your pride. + Form a friendship, for life, with some likely young lad; + So doing, in honour your name shall be had. + Nor would Love use you hardly; though lightly can he + Bind strong men in chains, and has wrought upon me + Till the steel is as wax--but I'm longing to press + That exquisite mouth with a clinging caress. + + No? Reflect that you're older each year than the last; + That we all must grow gray, and the wrinkles come fast. + Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides + Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides: + Nor are men over keen to catch charms as they fly. + Think of this and be gentle, be loving as I: + When your years are maturer, we two shall be then + The pair in the Iliad over again. + But if you consign all my words to the wind + And say, 'Why annoy me? you're not to my mind,' + I--who lately in quest of the Gold Fruit had sped + For your sake, or of Cerberus guard of the dead-- + Though you called me, would ne'er stir a foot from my door, + For my love and my sorrow thenceforth will be o'er. + + + + +IDYLL XXX. + + +The Death of Adonis. + + Cythera saw Adonis + And knew that he was dead; + She marked the brow, all grisly now, + The cheek no longer red; + And "Bring the boar before me" + Unto her Loves she said. + + Forthwith her winged attendants + Ranged all the woodland o'er, + And found and bound in fetters + Threefold the grisly boar: + One dragged him at a rope's end + E'en as a vanquished foe; + One went behind and drave him + And smote him with his bow: + On paced the creature feebly; + He feared Cythera so. + + To him said Aphroditè: + "So, worst of beasts, 'twas you + Who rent that thigh asunder, + Who him that loved me slew?" + And thus the beast made answer: + "Cythera, hear me swear + By thee, by him that loved thee, + And by these bonds I wear, + And them before whose hounds I ran-- + I meant no mischief to the man + Who seemed to thee so fair. + + "As on a carven statue + Men gaze, I gazed on him; + I seemed on fire with mad desire + To kiss that offered limb: + My ruin, Aphroditè, + Thus followed from my whim. + + "Now therefore take and punish + And fairly cut away + These all unruly tusks of mine; + For to what end serve they? + And if thine indignation + Be not content with this, + Cut off the mouth that ventured + To offer him a kiss"-- + + But Aphroditè pitied + And bade them loose his chain. + The boar from that day forward + Still followed in her train; + Nor ever to the wildwood + Attempted to return, + But in the focus of Desire + Preferred to burn and burn. + + + + +IDYLL XXXI. + + +Loves. + + Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills! + Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom fills. + Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest swain + Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in vain. + Yet doth now this thing of evil my longsuffering heart beguile, + Though the utmost she vouchsafes me is the shadow of a smile: + And I soon shall know no respite, have no solace e'en in sleep. + Yesterday I watched her pass me, and from down-dropt eyelids peep + At the face she dared not gaze on--every moment blushing more-- + And my love took hold upon me as it never took before. + Home I went a wounded creature, with a gnawing at my heart; + And unto the soul within me did my bitterness impart. + + "Soul, why deal with me in this wise? Shall thy folly know no bound? + Canst thou look upon these temples, with their locks of silver crowned, + And still deem thee young and shapely? Nay, my soul, let us be sage; + Act as they that have already sipped the wisdom-cup of age. + Men have loved and have forgotten. Happiest of all is he + To the lover's woes a stranger, from the lover's fetters free: + Lightly his existence passes, as a wild-deer fleeting fast: + Tamed, it may be, he shall voyage in a maiden's wake at last: + Still to-day 'tis his to revel with his mates in boyhood's flowers. + As to thee, thy brain and marrow passion evermore devours, + Prey to memories that haunt thee e'en in visions of the night; + And a year shall scarcely pluck thee from thy miserable plight." + + Such and divers such reproaches did I heap upon my soul. + And my soul in turn made answer:--"Whoso deems he can control + Wily love, the same shall lightly gaze upon the stars of heaven + And declare by what their number overpasses seven times seven. + Will I, nill I, I may never from my neck his yoke unloose. + So, my friend, a god hath willed it: he whose plots could outwit Zeus, + And the queen whose home is Cyprus. I, a leaflet of to-day, + I whose breath is in my nostrils, am I wrong to own his sway?" + + + + +FRAGMENT PROM THE "BERENICE." + + Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal, + For bare existence harrowing yonder mere, + To this our Lady slay at even-fall + That holy fish, which, since it hath no peer + For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about here + Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down + Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear + To find them empty * * * * + + + +EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS. + + + I. + + Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon + Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon: + Thine, Pythian Pæan, that dark-foliaged bay; + With such thy Delphian crags thy front array. + This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine, + Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine. + + + II. + + To Pan doth white-limbed Daphnis offer here + (He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's flute) + His reeds of many a stop, his barbèd spear, + And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of fruit. + + + III. + + Daphnis, thou slumberest on the leaf-strown lea, + Thy frame at rest, thy springes newly spread + O'er the fell-side. But two are hunting thee: + Pan, and Priapus with his fair young head + Hung with wan ivy. See! they come, they leap + Into thy lair--fly, fly,--shake off the coil of sleep! + + + IV. + + For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer, + Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been set: + It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear; + But I think there is life in the patriarch yet. + He is handsomely shrined within fair chapel-walls; + Where, fringed with sweet cypress and myrtle and bay, + A stream ever-fresh from the rock's hollow falls, + And the ringleted vine her ripe store doth display: + And the blackbirds, those shrill-piping songsters of spring, + Wake the echoes with wild inarticulate song: + And the notes of the nightingale plaintively ring, + As she pours from her dun throat her lay sweet and strong. + Sitting there, to Priapus, the gracious one, pray + That the lore he has taught me I soon may unlearn: + Say I'll give him a kid, and in case he says nay + To this offer, three victims to him will I burn; + A kid, a fleeced ram, and a lamb sleek and fat; + He will listen, mayhap, to my prayers upon that. + + + V. + + Prythee, sing something sweet to me--you that can play + First and second at once. Then I too will essay + To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute + Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute. + In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep, + And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep. + + + VI. + + Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes? + Thy kid was a fair one, I own: + But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize, + And to darkness her spirit hath flown. + Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their cries + There is left of her never a bone. + + + VII. + + For a Statue of Æsculapius. + + Far as Miletus travelled Pæan's son; + There to be guest of Nicias, guest of one + Who heals all sickness; and who still reveres + Him, for his sake this cedarn image rears. + The sculptor's hand right well did Nicias fill; + And here the sculptor lavished all his skill. + + + VIII. + + Ortho's Epitaph. + + Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge: + Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night. + I did so and died. My possessions were large; + Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me quite. + + + IX. + + Epitaph of Cleonicus. + + Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea + Out of season: our tenure of life is but frail. + Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he + From the valleys of Syria, with many a bale: + With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem + When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with them. + + + X. + + For a Statue of the Muses. + + To you this marble statue, maids divine, + Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine. + Your votary all admit him: by this skill + He gat him fame: and you he honours still. + + + XI. + + Epitaph of Eusthenes. + + Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies, + Who could tell all your thoughts by a glance at your eyes. + A stranger, with strangers his honoured bones rest; + They valued sweet song, and he gave them his best. + All the honours of death doth the poet possess: + If a small one, they mourned for him nevertheless. + + + XII. + + For a Tripod Erected by Damoteles to Bacchus. + + The precentor Damoteles, Bacchus, exalts + Your tripod, and, sweetest of deities, you. + He was champion of men, if his boyhood had faults; + And he ever loved honour and seemliness too. + + + XIII. + + For a Statue of Anacreon. + + This statue, stranger, scan with earnest gaze; + And, home returning, say "I have beheld + Anacreon, in Teos; him whose lays + Were all unmatched among our sires of eld." + Say further: "Youth and beauty pleased him best;" + And all the man will fairly stand exprest. + + + XIV. + + Epitaph of Eurymedon. + + Thou hast gone to the grave, and abandoned thy son + Yet a babe, thy own manhood but scarcely begun. + Thou art throned among gods: and thy country will take + Thy child to her heart, for his brave father's sake. + + + XV. + + Another. + + Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave + Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave, + By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.' + The turf should lie light on so sacred a head. + + + XVI. + + For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite. + + Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth; + Not that base one who's wooed by the children of earth. + 'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all, + Chrysogonè, placed her in Amphicles' hall: + Chrysogonè's heart, as her children, was his, + And each year they knew better what happiness is. + For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their friend; + Religion is policy too in the end. + + + XVII. + + To Epicharmus. + + Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was he + The sire of Comedy. + Of his proper self bereavèd, Bacchus, unto thee we rear + His brazen image here; + We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we can + Do for our countryman, + Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample store + Of legendary lore, + Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' life, he spake: + We honour him for their sake. + + + XVIII. + + Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius. + + The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse + This stone--inscribed _To Cleita_--reared in the midhighway. + Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse; + Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this day? + + + XIX. + + To Archilochus. + + Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder days, + By east and west + Alike's confest + The mighty lyrist's praise. + Delian Apollo loved him well, and well the sister-choir: + His songs were fraught + With subtle thought, + And matchless was his lyre. + + + XX. + + Under a Statue of Peisander, + WHO WROTE THE LABOURS OF HERACLES. + + He whom ye gaze on was the first + That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed + Of him whose arm was swift to smite, + Who dared the lion to the fight: + That tale, so strange, so manifold, + Peisander of Cameirus told. + For this good work, thou may'st be sure, + His country placed him here, + In solid brass that shall endure + Through many a month and year. + + + XXI. + + Epitaph of Hipponax. + + Behold Hipponax' burialplace, + A true bard's grave. + Approach it not, if you're a base + And base-born knave. + But if your sires were honest men + And unblamed you, + Sit down thereon serenely then, + And eke sleep too. + + * * * * * + + Tuneful Hipponax rests him here. + Let no base rascal venture near. + Ye who rank high in birth and mind + Sit down--and sleep, if so inclined. + + + XXII. + + On his own Book. + + Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong + To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song. + I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair, + And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + +***** This file should be named 11533-8.txt or 11533-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/3/11533/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. For example: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11533-8.zip b/old/11533-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7bf2b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533-8.zip diff --git a/old/11533-h.zip b/old/11533-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3fc2ca --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533-h.zip diff --git a/old/11533-h/11533-h.htm b/old/11533-h/11533-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0639233 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533-h/11533-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9927 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> + +<html> +<head> + <meta name="generator" content= + "HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org"> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Theocritus, by C.S. + Calverley.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + + .toc { margin-left: 15%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%; font-size: 10pt; margin-bottom: 0em;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 10em;} + .poem p.i14 {margin-left: 14em;} + .poem p.i20 {margin-left: 20em;} + .poem p.i28 {margin-left: 28em;} + .poem p.i36 {margin-left: 36em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 8em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Theocritus + +Author: Theocritus + +Release Date: March 10, 2004 [EBook #11533] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + <br> + <br> + <br> + + <h1>THEOCRITUS</h1> + + <h2>TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE.</h2> + + <h3>BY</h3> + + <h2>C.S. CALVERLEY,</h2><br> + <br> + <br> + + <center> + <i>LATE FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE</i>. + </center> + + <center> + AUTHOR OF "FLY LEAVES," ETC. + </center> + + <center> + THIRD EDITION. + </center><br> + <br> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="PREFACE"></a> + + <h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + <p>I had intended translating all or nearly all these Idylls into + blank verse, as the natural equivalent of Greek or of Latin + hexameters; only deviating into rhyme where occasion seemed to + demand it. But I found that other metres had their special + advantages: the fourteen-syllable line in particular has that, + among others, of containing about the same number of syllables as + an ordinary line of Theocritus. And there is also no doubt + something gained by variety.</p> + + <p>Several recent writers on the subject have laid down that + every translation of Greek poetry, especially bucolic poetry, + must be in rhyme of some sort. But they have seldom stated, and + it is hard to see, why. There is no rhyme in the original, and + <i>primâ facie</i> should be none in the translation. + Professor Blackie has, it is true, pointed out the "assonances, + alliterations, and rhymes," which are found in more or less + abundance in Ionic Greek.<a name="FNanchorA"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_A"><sup>[A]</sup></a> These may of course be purely + accidental, like the hexameters in Livy or the blank-verse lines + in Mr. Dickens's prose: but accidental or not (it may be said) + they are there, and ought to be recognised. May we not then + recognise them by introducing similar assonances, etc., here and + there into the English version? or by availing ourselves of what + Professor Blackie again calls attention to, the "compensating + powers"<a name="FNanchorB"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_B"><sup>[B]</sup></a> of English? I think with him + that it was hard to speak of our language as one which + "transforms <i>boos megaloio boeién</i> into 'great ox's + hide.'" Such phrases as 'The Lord is a man of war,' 'The trumpet + spake not to the armed throng,' are to my ear quite as grand as + Homer: and it would be equally fair to ask what we are to make of + a language which transforms Milton's line into [Greek: ê + shalpigx ohy proshephê ton hôplismhenon + hochlon.]<a name="FNanchorC"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_C"><sup>[C]</sup></a> But be this as it may, these + phenomena are surely too rare and too arbitrary to be adequately + represented by any regularly recurring rhyme: and the question + remains, what is there in the unrhymed original to which rhyme + answers?</p> + + <p>To me its effect is to divide the verse into couplets, + triplets, or (if the word may include them all) <i>stanzas</i> of + some kind. Without rhyme we have no apparent means of conveying + the effect of stanzas. There are of course devices such as + repeating a line or part of a line at stated intervals, as is + done in 'Tears, idle tears' and elsewhere: but clearly none of + these would be available to a translator. Where therefore he has + to express stanzas, it is easy to see that rhyme may be + admissible and even necessary. Pope's couplet may (or may not) + stand for elegiacs, and the <i>In Memoriam</i> stanza for some + one of Horace's metres. Where the heroes of Virgil's Eclogues + sing alternately four lines each, Gray's quatrain seems to + suggest itself: and where a similar case occurs in these Idylls + (as for instance in the ninth) I thought it might be met by + taking whatever received English stanza was nearest the required + length. Pope's couplet again may possibly best convey the + pomposity of some Idylls and the point of others. And there may + be divers considerations of this kind. But, speaking generally, + where the translator has not to intimate stanzas—where he + has on the contrary to intimate that there are none—rhyme + seems at first sight an intrusion and a <i>suggestio + falsi</i>.</p> + + <p>No doubt (as has been observed) what 'Pastorals' we have are + mostly written in what is called the heroic measure. But the + reason is, I suppose, not far to seek. Dryden and Pope wrote + 'heroics,' not from any sense of their fitness for bucolic + poetry, but from a sense of their universal fitness: and their + followers copied them. But probably no scholar would affirm that + any poem, original or translated, by Pope or Dryden or any of + their school, really resembles in any degree the bucolic poetry + of the Greeks. Mr. Morris, whose poems appear to me to resemble + it more almost than anything I have ever seen, of course writes + what is technically Pope's metre, and equally of course is not of + Pope's school. Whether or no Pope and Dryden <i>intended</i> to + resemble the old bucolic poets in style is, to say the least, + immaterial. If they did not, there is no reason whatever why any + of us who do should adopt their metre: if they did and failed, + there is every reason why we should select a different one.</p> + + <p>Professor Conington has adduced one cogent argument against + blank verse: that is, that hardly any of us can write it.<a name= + "FNanchorD"></a><a href="#Footnote_D"><sup>[D]</sup></a> But if + this is so—if the 'blank verse' which we write is virtually + prose in disguise—the addition of rhyme would only make it + rhymed prose, and we should be as far as ever from "verse really + deserving the name."<a name="FNanchorE"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_E"><sup>[E]</sup></a> Unless (which I can hardly + imagine) the mere incident of 'terminal consonance' can + constitute that verse which would not be verse independently, + this argument is equally good against attempting verse of any + kind: we should still be writing disguised, and had better write + undisguised, prose. Prose translations are of course tenable, and + are (I am told) advocated by another very eminent critic. These + considerations against them occur to one: that, among the + characteristics of his original which the translator is bound to + preserve, one is that he wrote metrically; and that the prattle + which passes muster, and sounds perhaps rather pretty than + otherwise, in metre, would in plain prose be insufferable. Very + likely some exceptional sort of prose may be meant, which would + dispose of all such difficulties: but this would be harder for an + ordinary writer to evolve out of his own brain, than to construct + any species of verse for which he has at least a model and a + precedent.</p> + + <p>These remarks are made to shew that my metres were not + selected, as it might appear, at hap-hazard. Metre is not so + unimportant as to justify that. For the rest, I have used + Briggs's edition<a name="FNanchorF"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_F"><sup>[F]</sup></a> (<i>Poetæ Bucolici + Græci</i>), and have never, that I am aware of, taken + refuge in any various reading where I could make any sense at all + of the text as given by him. Sometimes I have been content to put + down what I felt was a wrong rendering rather than omit; but only + in cases where the original was plainly corrupt, and all + suggested emendations seemed to me hopelessly wide of the mark. + What, for instance, may be the true meaning of [Greek: bolbhost + tist kochlhiast] in the fourteenth Idyll I have no idea. It is + not very important. And no doubt the sense of the last two lines + of the "<i>Death of Adonis</i>" is very unlikely to be what I + have made it. But no suggestion that I met with seemed to me + satisfactory or even plausible: and in this and a few similar + cases I have put down what suited the context. Occasionally also, + as in the Idyll here printed last—the one lately discovered + by Bergk, which I elucidated by the light of Fritzsche's + conjectures—I have availed myself of an opinion which + Professor Conington somewhere expresses, to the effect that, + where two interpretations are tenable, it is lawful to accept for + the purposes of translation the one you might reject as a + commentator. [Greek: tetootaiost] has I dare say nothing whatever + to do with 'quartan fever.'</p> + + <p>On one point, rather a minor one, I have ventured to dissent + from Professor Blackie and others: namely, in retaining the + Greek, instead of adopting the Roman, nomenclature. Professor + Blackie says<a name="FNanchorG"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_G"><sup>[G]</sup></a> that there are some men by whom + "it is esteemed a grave offence to call Jupiter Jupiter," which + begs the question: and that Jove "is much more musical" than + Zeus, which begs another. Granting (what might be questioned) + that <i>Zeus, Aphrodite</i>, and <i>Eros</i> are as absolutely + the same individuals with <i>Jupiter, Venus</i>, and <i>Cupid</i> + as <i>Odysseus</i> undoubtedly is with <i>Ulysses</i>—still + I cannot see why, in making a version of (say) Theocritus, one + should not use by way of preference those names by which he + invariably called them, and which are characteristic of him: why, + in turning a Greek author into English, we should begin by + turning all the proper names into Latin. Professor Blackie's + authoritative statement<a name="FNanchorH"></a><a href= + "#Footnote_H"><sup>[H]</sup></a> that "there are whole idylls in + Theocritus which would sound ridiculous in any other language + than that of Tam o' Shanter" I accept of course unhesitatingly, + and should like to see it acted upon by himself or any competent + person. But a translator is bound to interpret all as best he + may: and an attempt to write Tam o' Shanter's language by one who + was not Tam o' Shanter's countryman would, I fear, result in + something more ridiculous still.</p> + + <p>C.S.C.</p> + + <p>*** For Cometas, in Idyll V., read <i>Comatas</i>.</p><br> + + <p>FOOTNOTES:</p><a name="Footnote_A"></a><a href= + "#FNanchorA">[A]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Vol. I., pp. 413, 414.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_B"></a><a href="#FNanchorB">[B]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p><i>Ibid</i>., page 377, etc.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_C"></a><a href="#FNanchorC">[C]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Professor Kingsley.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_D"></a><a href="#FNanchorD">[D]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Preface to CONINGTON'S <i>Æneid</i>, page ix.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_E"></a><a href="#FNanchorE">[E]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p><i>Ibid</i>.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_F"></a><a href="#FNanchorF">[F]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>Since writing the above lines I have had the advantage of + seeing Mr. Paley's <i>Theocritus</i>, which was not out when I + made my version.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_G"></a><a href="#FNanchorG">[G]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Preface, pp. xii., xiii.</p> + </div><a name="Footnote_H"></a><a href="#FNanchorH">[H]</a> + + <div class="note"> + <p>BLACKIE'S <i>Homer</i>, Vol. I., page 384.</p> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="CONTENTS"></a> + + <h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_I">IDYLL I. THE DEATH OF + DAPHNIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_II">IDYLL II. THE + SORCERESS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_III">IDYLL III. THE + SERENADE</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_IV">IDYLL IV. THE HERDSMAN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_V">IDYLL V. THE BATTLE OF THE + BARDS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VI">IDYLL VI. THE DRAWN + BATTLE</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VII">IDYLL VII. + HARVEST-HOME</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_VIII">IDYLL VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF + DAPHNIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_IX">IDYLL IX. PASTORALS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_X">IDYLL X. THE TWO + WORKMEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XI">IDYLL XI. THE GIANT'S + WOOING</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XII">IDYLL XII. THE + COMRADES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIII">IDYLL XIII. HYLAS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIV">IDYLL XIV. THE LOVE OF + ÆSCHINES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XV">IDYLL XV. THE FESTIVAL OF + ADONIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVI">IDYLL XVI. THE VALUE OF + SONG</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVII">IDYLL XVII. THE PRAISE OF + PTOLEMY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XVIII">IDYLL XVIII. THE BRIDAL OF + HELEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XIX">IDYLL XIX. LOVE STEALING + HONEY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XX">IDYLL XX. TOWN AND + COUNTRY</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXI">IDYLL XXI. THE + FISHERMEN</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXII">IDYLL XXII. THE SONS OF + LEDA</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIII">IDYLL XXIII. LOVE + AVENGED</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIV">IDYLL XXIV. THE INFANT + HERACLES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXV">IDYLL XXV. HERACLES THE LION + SLAYER</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVI">IDYLL XXVI. THE + BACCHANALS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVII">IDYLL XXVII. A COUNTRYMAN'S + WOOING</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXVIII">IDYLL XXVIII. THE + DISTAFF</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXIX">IDYLL XXIX. LOVES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXX">IDYLL XXX. THE DEATH OF + ADONIS</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#IDYLL_XXXI">IDYLL XXXI. LOVES</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href= + "#FRAGMENT_PROM_THE_quotBERENICEquot">FRAGMENT FROM THE + "BERENICE"</a></p> + + <p class="toc"><a href="#EPIGRAMS_AND_EPITAPHS">EPIGRAMS AND + EPITAPHS</a>:—</p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#EI">I.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#II">II.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#III">III.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#IV">IV.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#V">V.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VI">VI.</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VII">VII.—FOR A STATUE OF + ÆSCULAPIUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#VIII">VIII.—ORTHO'S + EPITAPH</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#IX">IX.—EPITAPH OF + CLEONICUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#X">X.—FOR A STATUE OF THE + MUSES</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XI">XI.—EPITAPH OF + EUSTHENES</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XII">XII.—FOR A TRIPOD ERECTED BY + DAMOTELES TO BACCHUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIII">XIII.—FOR A STATUE OF + ANACREON</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIV">XIV.—EPITAPH OF + EURYMEDON</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XV">XV.—ANOTHER</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVI">XVI.—FOR A STATUE OF THE + HEAVENLY APHRODITE</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVII">XVII.—To EPICHARMUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XVIII">XVIII.—EPITAPH OF CLEITA, + NURSE OF MEDEIUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XIX">XIX.—TO ARCHILOCHUS</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XX">XX.—UNDER A STATUE OF + PEISANDER</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XXI">XXI.—EPITAPH OF + HIPPONAX</a></p> + + <p class="toc2"><a href="#XXII">XXII.—ON HIS OWN + BOOK</a></p> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_I"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL I.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Death of Daphnis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>THYRSIS. A GOATHERD.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>THYRSIS.</p> + + <p>Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes</p> + + <p>Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet</p> + + <p>Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone.</p> + + <p>Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat.</p> + + <p>Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid;</p> + + <p>And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams</p> + + <p>Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag.</p> + + <p>If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe,</p> + + <p>Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose</p> + + <p>The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYRSIS.</p> + + <p>Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here</p> + + <p>Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade,</p> + + <p>And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe</p> + + <p>At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour</p> + + <p>Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he;</p> + + <p>Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel.</p> + + <p>But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes;</p> + + <p>High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy:</p> + + <p>Then rest we in the shadow of the elm</p> + + <p>Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs.</p> + + <p>There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat,</p> + + <p>Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him</p> + + <p>Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first,</p> + + <p>To milk, ay thrice, a goat—she suckles twins,</p> + + <p>Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;—</p> + + <p>Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured,</p> + + <p>Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet</p> + + <p>0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs</p> + + <p>About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays</p> + + <p>Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts</p> + + <p>Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears</p> + + <p>A damsel ('tis a miracle of art)</p> + + <p>In robe and snood: and suitors at her side</p> + + <p>With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left,</p> + + <p>Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart.</p> + + <p>She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now</p> + + <p>Her chance regards on that: they, all for love</p> + + <p>Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost.</p> + + <p>Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands</p> + + <p>On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains</p> + + <p>Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils</p> + + <p>Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame</p> + + <p>Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck</p> + + <p>(In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell.</p> + + <p>Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends</p> + + <p>Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes;</p> + + <p>A boy sits on the rude fence watching them.</p> + + <p>Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes</p> + + <p>One ranging steals the ripest; one assails</p> + + <p>With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon</p> + + <p>Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile</p> + + <p>With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap,</p> + + <p>And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip,</p> + + <p>Little he cares, enamoured of his toy.</p> + + <p class="i2">The cup is hung all round with lissom + briar,</p> + + <p>Triumph of Æolian art, a wondrous sight.</p> + + <p>It was a ferryman's of Calydon:</p> + + <p>A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese.</p> + + <p>Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still</p> + + <p>It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou,</p> + + <p>If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays.</p> + + <p>I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own</p> + + <p>In the dim land where all things are forgot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYSIS [<i>sings</i>].</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>The voice of Thyrsis. Ætna's Thyrsis I.</p> + + <p>Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined?</p> + + <p>In fair Penëus' or in Pindus' glens?</p> + + <p>For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt,</p> + + <p>Nor Ætna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him;</p> + + <p>The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>The kine and oxen stood around his feet,</p> + + <p>The heifers and the calves wailed all for him.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>First from the mountain Hermes came, and said,</p> + + <p>"Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?"</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came;</p> + + <p>All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came</p> + + <p>And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid</p> + + <p>Foots it round every pool and every grove,</p> + + <p>(<i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song</i>)</p> + + <p>"O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee;</p> + + <p>Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called.</p> + + <p>With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids</p> + + <p>Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they:</p> + + <p class="i2">(<i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>):</p> + + <p>"With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh</p> + + <p>Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee."</p> + + <p>Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone</p> + + <p>His bitter portion, till the fatal end.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Came Aphroditè, smiles on her sweet face,</p> + + <p>False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake:</p> + + <p>"So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love!</p> + + <p>But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>Then "Ruthless Aphroditè," Daphnis said,</p> + + <p>"Accursed Aphroditè, foe to man!</p> + + <p>Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set?</p> + + <p>Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say)</p> + + <p>And Aphroditè—to Anchises fly:</p> + + <p>There are oak-forests; here but galingale,</p> + + <p>And bees that make a music round the hives.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks</p> + + <p>And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain</p> + + <p>The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear!</p> + + <p>Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen</p> + + <p>Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell,</p> + + <p>And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine,</p> + + <p>Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags</p> + + <p>Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Mænalus,</p> + + <p>Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now</p> + + <p>Rhium and Helicè, and the mountain-cairn</p> + + <p>(That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact</p> + + <p>With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip:</p> + + <p>For surely I am torn from life by Love.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>.</p> + + <p>"From thicket now and thorn let violets spring,</p> + + <p>Now let white lilies drape the juniper,</p> + + <p>And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong:</p> + + <p>For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds,</p> + + <p>And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland + song</i>."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So spake he, and he never spake again.</p> + + <p>Fain Aphroditè would have raised his head;</p> + + <p>But all his thread was spun. So down the stream</p> + + <p>Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head</p> + + <p>Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved.</p> + + <p class="i2">Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk</p> + + <p>The one, and pour the other to the Muse.</p> + + <p>Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell!</p> + + <p>I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb</p> + + <p>Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of Ægilus:</p> + + <p>For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song.</p> + + <p>Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells:</p> + + <p>The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well.</p> + + <p>Hither, Cissætha! Thou, go milk her! Kids,</p> + + <p>Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_II"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL II.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Sorceress. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms?</p> + + <p>Fetch all; with fiery wool the caldron crown;</p> + + <p>Let glamour win me back my false lord's heart!</p> + + <p>Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me,</p> + + <p>Nor made enquiry if I die or live,</p> + + <p>Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my door.</p> + + <p>Sure his swift fancy wanders otherwhere,</p> + + <p>The slave of Aphroditè and of Love.</p> + + <p>I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school</p> + + <p>At dawn, that I may see him and denounce</p> + + <p>His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms.</p> + + <p>So shine out fair, O moon! To thee I sing</p> + + <p>My soft low song: to thee and Hecatè</p> + + <p>The dweller in the shades, at whose approach</p> + + <p>E'en the dogs quake, as on she moves through blood</p> + + <p>And darkness and the barrows of the slain.</p> + + <p>All hail, dread Hecatè: companion me</p> + + <p>Unto the end, and work me witcheries</p> + + <p>Potent as Circè or Medea wrought,</p> + + <p>Or Perimedè of the golden hair!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>First we ignite the grain. Nay, pile it on:</p> + + <p>Where are thy wits flown, timorous Thestylis?</p> + + <p>Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou?</p> + + <p>Pile, and still say, 'This pile is of his bones.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Delphis racks me: I burn him in these bays.</p> + + <p>As, flame-enkindled, they lift up their voice,</p> + + <p>Blaze once, and not a trace is left behind:</p> + + <p>So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>E'en as I melt, not uninspired, the wax,</p> + + <p>May Mindian Delphis melt this hour with love:</p> + + <p>And, swiftly as this brazen wheel whirls round,</p> + + <p>May Aphroditè whirl him to my door.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Next burn the husks. Hell's adamantine floor</p> + + <p>And aught that else stands firm can Artemis move.</p> + + <p>Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town:</p> + + <p>The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sound the gongs.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Hushed are the voices of the winds and seas;</p> + + <p>But O not hushed the voice of my despair.</p> + + <p>He burns my being up, who left me here</p> + + <p>No wife, no maiden, in my misery.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, sweet mistress, thus:</p> + + <p>"What face soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot</p> + + <p>Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say)</p> + + <p>Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love."</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic, wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the weed</p> + + <p>That drives the mountain-colts and swift mares wild.</p> + + <p>Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise,</p> + + <p>Race from his burnished brethren home to me.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>He lost this tassel from his robe; which I</p> + + <p>Shred thus, and cast it on the raging flames.</p> + + <p>Ah baleful Love! why, like the marsh-born leech,</p> + + <p>Cling to my flesh, and drain my dark veins dry?</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + + <p>From a crushed eft tomorrow he shall drink</p> + + <p>Death! But now, Thestylis, take these herbs and smear</p> + + <p>That threshold o'er, whereto at heart I cling</p> + + <p>Still, still—albeit he thinks scorn of me—</p> + + <p>And spit, and say, ''Tis Delphis' bones I smear.'</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I + love</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20">[<i>Exit Thestylis</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now, all alone, I'll weep a love whence sprung</p> + + <p>When born? Who wrought my sorrow? Anaxo came,</p> + + <p>Her basket in her hand, to Artemis' grove.</p> + + <p>Bound for the festival, troops of forest beasts</p> + + <p>Stood round, and in the midst a lioness.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Theucharidas' slave, my Thracian nurse now dead</p> + + <p>Then my near neighbour, prayed me and implored</p> + + <p>To see the pageant: I, the poor doomed thing,</p> + + <p>Went with her, trailing a fine silken train,</p> + + <p>And gathering round me Clearista's robe.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>Now, the mid-highway reached by Lycon's farm,</p> + + <p>Delphis and Eudamippus passed me by.</p> + + <p>With beards as lustrous as the woodbine's gold</p> + + <p>And breasts more sheeny than thyself, O Moon,</p> + + <p>Fresh from the wrestler's glorious toil they came.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>I saw, I raved, smit (weakling) to my heart.</p> + + <p>My beauty withered, and I cared no more</p> + + <p>For all that pomp; and how I gained my home</p> + + <p>I know not: some strange fever wasted me.</p> + + <p>Ten nights and days I lay upon my bed.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>And wan became my flesh, as 't had been dyed,</p> + + <p>And all my hair streamed off, and there was left</p> + + <p>But bones and skin. Whose threshold crossed I not,</p> + + <p>Or missed what grandam's hut who dealt in charms?</p> + + <p>For no light thing was this, and time sped on.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>At last I spake the truth to that my maid:</p> + + <p>"Seek, an thou canst, some cure for my sore pain.</p> + + <p>Alas, I am all the Mindian's! But begone,</p> + + <p>And watch by Timagetus' wrestling-school:</p> + + <p>There doth he haunt, there soothly take his rest.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits';</p> + + <p>And bring him." So I spake: she went her way,</p> + + <p>And brought the lustrous-limbed one to my roof.</p> + + <p>And I, the instant I beheld him step</p> + + <p>Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door,</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>,)</p> + + <p>Became all cold like snow, and from my brow</p> + + <p>Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none,</p> + + <p>Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make</p> + + <p>That babbles to its mother in its dreams;</p> + + <p>But all my fair frame stiffened into wax.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down,</p> + + <p>And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said:</p> + + <p>"Thou hast gained on me, Simætha, (e'en as I</p> + + <p>Gained once on young Philinus in the race,)</p> + + <p>Bidding me hither ere I came unasked.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"For I had come, by Eros I had come,</p> + + <p>This night, with comrades twain or may-be more,</p> + + <p>The fruitage of the Wine-god in my robe,</p> + + <p>And, wound about my brow with ribands red,</p> + + <p>The silver leaves so dear to Heracles.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers</p> + + <p>High is my name for goodliness and speed:</p> + + <p>I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way.</p> + + <p>But had the door been barred, and I thrust out,</p> + + <p>With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then.</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.</p> + + <p>"Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love,</p> + + <p>Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out,</p> + + <p>A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames,</p> + + <p>And badst me hither. It is Love that lights</p> + + <p>A fire more fierce than his of Lipara;</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my + love</i>.)</p> + + <p>"Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower,</p> + + <p>The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I,</p> + + <p>A willing listener, sat, my hand in his,</p> + + <p>Among the cushions, and his cheek touched mine,</p> + + <p>Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed</p> + + <p>In soft low language. Need I prate to thee,</p> + + <p>Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did?</p> + + <p>Till yesterday he found no fault with me,</p> + + <p>Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came</p> + + <p>Philista's mother—hers who flutes to me—</p> + + <p>With her Melampo's; just when up the sky</p> + + <p>Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn:</p> + + <p>And divers tales she brought me, with the rest</p> + + <p>How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom:</p> + + <p>But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye</p> + + <p>He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled,</p> + + <p>To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers.</p> + + <p>Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true:</p> + + <p>For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll</p> + + <p>Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask:</p> + + <p>Now—'tis a fortnight since I saw his face.</p> + + <p>Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere?</p> + + <p>Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms.</p> + + <p>But let him try me more, and by the Fates</p> + + <p>He'll soon be knocking at the gates of hell.</p> + + <p>Spells of such power are in this chest of mine,</p> + + <p>Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds:</p> + + <p>As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil.</p> + + <p>Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell,</p> + + <p>That wait upon the car of noiseless Night.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_III"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL III.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Serenade. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats,</p> + + <p>Tityrus their guardian, browse along the fell.</p> + + <p>O Tityrus, as I love thee, feed my goats:</p> + + <p>And lead them to the spring, and, Tityrus, 'ware</p> + + <p>The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram.</p> + + <p class="i2">Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more</p> + + <p>Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock</p> + + <p>Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him?</p> + + <p>Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped</p> + + <p>Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon.</p> + + <p>See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree</p> + + <p>I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon.</p> + + <p>Ah witness my heart-anguish! Oh were I</p> + + <p>A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair,</p> + + <p>Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths</p> + + <p>Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now:</p> + + <p>Fell god, he drank the lioness's milk,</p> + + <p>In the wild woods his mother cradled him,</p> + + <p>Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone.</p> + + <p>O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart</p> + + <p>All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine!</p> + + <p>Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips,</p> + + <p>For there is sweetness in an empty kiss.</p> + + <p>Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown,</p> + + <p>The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee,</p> + + <p>Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers:</p> + + <p>Oh I am desperate—what betides me, what?—</p> + + <p>Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins</p> + + <p>And leap into yon waves, where on the watch</p> + + <p>For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death,</p> + + <p>That I have all but died will pleasure thee.</p> + + <p>That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?')</p> + + <p>The <i>Love-in-absence</i>, crushed, returned no + sound,</p> + + <p>But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist.</p> + + <p>I learned it of the sieve-divining crone</p> + + <p>Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday:</p> + + <p>'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her;</p> + + <p>She makes of none account her worshipper.'</p> + + <p class="i2">Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for + thee:</p> + + <p>Mermnon's lass covets them: dark she is of skin:</p> + + <p>But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me.</p> + + <p class="i2">She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye.</p> + + <p>I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing.</p> + + <p>She may look round: she is not adamant.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed,</p> + + <p>Took apples in his hand and on he sped.</p> + + <p>Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this;</p> + + <p>She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray</p> + + <p>To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay</p> + + <p>In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare;</p> + + <p>Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Did not Adonis rouse to such excess</p> + + <p>Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness,</p> + + <p>(He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill)</p> + + <p>That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth + not:</p> + + <p>And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot!</p> + + <p>Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain</p> + + <p>Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no + more:</p> + + <p>E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves</p> + + <p>Rend me—may that be honey in thy mouth!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_IV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL IV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Herdsmen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>BATTUS. CORYDON.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee + say.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>No, Ægon: and he gave them me to tend while he's + away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to + see?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful + lord?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by + him?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>—So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes + a score.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven + next.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>—And by these bellowings his kine proclaim how sore + they're vexed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Poor kine! they've found their master a sorry knave + indeed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>They're poor enough, I grant you: they have not heart to + feed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Look at that heifer! sure there's naught, save bare bones, + left of her.</p> + + <p>Pray, does she browse on dewdrops, as doth the + grasshopper?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Not she, by heaven! She pastures now by Æsarus' + glades,</p> + + <p>And handfuls fair I pluck her there of young and green + grass-blades;</p> + + <p>Now bounds about Latymnus, that gathering-place of + shades.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>That bull again, the red one, my word but he is lean!</p> + + <p>I wish the Sybarite burghers aye may offer to the + queen</p> + + <p>Of heaven as pitiful a beast: those burghers are so + mean!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Yet to the Salt Lake's edges I drive him, I can swear;</p> + + <p>Up Physcus, up Neæthus' side—he lacks not + victual there,</p> + + <p>With dittany and endive and foxglove for his fare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Well, well! I pity Ægon. His cattle, go they + must</p> + + <p>To rack and ruin, all because vain-glory was his lust.</p> + + <p>The pipe that erst he fashioned is doubtless scored with + rust?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Nay, by the Nymphs! That pipe he left to me, the self-same + day</p> + + <p>He made for Pisa: I am too a minstrel in my way:</p> + + <p>Well the flute-part in '<i>Pyrrhus</i>' and in + '<i>Glauca</i>' can I play.</p> + + <p>I sing too '<i>Here's to Croton</i>' and '<i>Zacynthus O + 'tis fair</i>,'</p> + + <p>And '<i>Eastward to Lacinium</i>:'—the bruiser Milo + there</p> + + <p>His single self ate eighty loaves; there also did he + pull</p> + + <p>Down from its mountain-dwelling, by one hoof grasped, a + bull,</p> + + <p>And gave it Amaryllis: the maidens screamed with + fright;</p> + + <p>As for the owner of the bull he only laughed outright.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Sweet Amaryllis! thou alone, though dead, art + unforgot.</p> + + <p>Dearer than thou, whose light is quenched, my very goats + are not.</p> + + <p>Oh for the all-unkindly fate that's fallen to my lot!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Cheer up, brave lad! tomorrow may ease thee of thy + pain:</p> + + <p>Aye for the living are there hopes, past' hoping are the + slain:</p> + + <p>And now Zeus sends us sunshine, and now he sends us + rain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>I'm better. Beat those young ones off! E'en now their + teeth attack</p> + + <p>That olive's shoots, the graceless brutes! Back, with your + white face, back!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Back to thy hill, Cymætha! Great Pan, how deaf thou + art!</p> + + <p>I shall be with thee presently, and in the end thou'lt + smart.</p> + + <p>I warn thee, keep thy distance. Look, up she creeps + again!</p> + + <p>Oh were my hare-crook in nay hand, I'd give it to her + then!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>For heaven's sake, Corydon, look here! Just now a + bramble-spike</p> + + <p>Ran, there, into my instep—and oh how deep they + strike,</p> + + <p>Those lancewood-shafts! A murrain light on that calf, I + say!</p> + + <p>I got it gaping after her. Canst thou discern it, + pray?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ay, ay; and here I have it, safe in my finger-nails.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Eh! at how slight a matter how tall a warrior quails!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ne'er range the hill-crest, Battus, all sandal-less and + bare:</p> + + <p>Because the thistle and the thorn lift aye their plumed + heads there.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>—Say, Corydon, does that old man we wot of (tell me + please!)</p> + + <p>Still haunt the dark-browed little girl whom once he used + to tease?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>CORYDON.</p> + + <p>Ay my poor boy, that doth he: I saw them yesterday</p> + + <p>Down by the byre; and, trust me, loving enough were + they.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Well done, my veteran light-o'-love! In deeming thee mere + man,</p> + + <p>I wronged thy sire: some Satyr he, or an uncouth-limbed + Pan.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_V"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL V.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Battle of the Bards. + </center> + + <center> + <i>COMETAS. LACON. MORSON</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep + away:</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see</p> + + <p>Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and + how?</p> + + <p>Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee + now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, + say,</p> + + <p>What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked + away?</p> + + <p>Why, thy lord's self had ne'er a skin whereon his limbs to + lay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The skin that Crocylus gave me, a dark one streaked with + white,</p> + + <p>The day he slew his she-goat. Why, thou wert ill with + spite,</p> + + <p>Then, my false friend; and thou would'st end by beggaring + me quite.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Did Lacon, did Calæthis' son purloin a goatskin? + No,</p> + + <p>By Pan that haunts the sea-beach! Lad, if I served thee + so,</p> + + <p>Crazed may I drop from yon hill-top to Crathis' stream + below!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nor pipe of thine, good fellow—the Ladies of the + Lake</p> + + <p>So be still kind and good to me—did e'er Cometas + take.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Be Daphnis' woes my portion, should that my credence + win!</p> + + <p>Still, if thou list to stake a kid—that surely were + no sin—</p> + + <p>Come on, I'll sing it out with thee—until thou + givest in.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>'<i>The hog he braved Athene.</i>' As for the kid, 'tis + there:</p> + + <p>You stake a lamb against him—that fat one—if + you dare.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Fox! were that fair for either? At shearing who'd + prefer</p> + + <p>Horsehair to wool? or when the goat stood handy, suffer + her</p> + + <p>To nurse her firstling, and himself go milk a blatant + cur?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The same who deemed his hornet's-buzz the true cicala's + note,</p> + + <p>And braved—like you—his better. And so + forsooth you vote</p> + + <p>My kid a trifle? Then come on, fellow! I stake the + goat.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Why be so hot? Art thou on fire? First prythee take thy + seat</p> + + <p>'Neath this wild woodland olive: thy tones will sound more + sweet.</p> + + <p>Here falls a cold rill drop by drop, and green + grass-blades uprear</p> + + <p>Their heads, and fallen leaves are thick, and locusts + prattle here.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Hot I am not; but hurt I am, and sorely, when I think</p> + + <p>That thou canst look me in the face and never bleach nor + blink—</p> + + <p>Me, thine own boyhood's tutor! Go, train the she-wolf's + brood:</p> + + <p>Train dogs—that they may rend thee! This, this is + gratitude!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>When learned I from thy practice or thy preaching aught + that's right,</p> + + <p>Thou puppet, thou misshapen lump of ugliness and + spite?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>When? When I beat thee, wailing sore: yon goats looked on + with glee,</p> + + <p>And bleated; and were dealt with e'en as I had dealt with + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Well, hunchback, shallow be thy grave as was thy judgment + then!</p> + + <p>But hither, hither! Thou'lt not dip in herdsman's lore + again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, here are oaks and galingale: the hum of housing + bees</p> + + <p>Makes the place pleasant, and the birds are piping in the + trees.</p> + + <p>And here are two cold streamlets; here deeper shadows + fall</p> + + <p>Than yon place owns, and look what cones drop from the + pinetree tall.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Come hither, and tread on lambswool that is soft as any + dream:</p> + + <p>Still more unsavoury than thyself to me thy goatskins + seem.</p> + + <p>Here will I plant a bowl of milk, our ladies' grace to + win;</p> + + <p>And one, as huge, beside it, sweet olive-oil therein.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Come hither, and trample dainty fern and poppy-blossom: + sleep</p> + + <p>On goatskins that are softer than thy fleeces piled three + deep.</p> + + <p>Here will I plant eight milkpails, great Pan's regard to + gain,</p> + + <p>Bound them eight cups: full honeycombs shall every cup + contain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Well! there essay thy woodcraft: thence fight me, never + budge</p> + + <p>From thine own oak; e'en have thy way. But who shall be + our judge?</p> + + <p>Oh, if Lycopas with his kine should chance this way to + trudge!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, I want no Lycopas. But hail yon woodsman, do:</p> + + <p>'Tis Morson—see! his arms are full of + bracken—there, by you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>We'll hail him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p class="i6">Ay, you hail him.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p class="i8">Friend, 'twill not take thee long:</p> + + <p>We're striving which is master, we twain, in woodland + song:</p> + + <p>And thou, my good friend Morson, ne'er look with favouring + eyes</p> + + <p>On me; nor yet to yonder lad be fain to judge the + prize.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Nay, by the Nymphs, sweet Morson, ne'er for Cometas' + sake</p> + + <p>Stretch thou a point; nor e'er let him undue advantage + take.</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas owns yon wethers; a Thurian is he:</p> + + <p>And here, my friend, Eumares' goats, of Sybaris, you may + see.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>And who asked thee, thou naughty knave, to whom belonged + these flocks,</p> + + <p>Sibyrtas, or (it might be) me? Eh, thou'rt a + chatter-box!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>The simple truth, most worshipful, is all that I + allege:</p> + + <p>I'm not for boasting. But thy wit hath all too keen an + edge.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Come sing, if singing's in thee—and may our friend + get back</p> + + <p>To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth + clack!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS. [<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the + Nine</p> + + <p>Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their + shrine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON. [<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear</p> + + <p>A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my + own,</p> + + <p>Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all + alone?'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with + cheese:</p> + + <p>Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed + leas.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he + stray</p> + + <p>By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming + way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my + flocks:</p> + + <p>How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining + locks!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree,</p> + + <p>The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for + me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and + still</p> + + <p>I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the + hill.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>A cushat I will presently procure and give to her</p> + + <p>Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Pooh! a soft fleece, to make a coat, I'll give the day I + shear</p> + + <p>My brindled ewe—(no hand but mine shall touch + it)—to my dear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Back, lambs, from that wild-olive: and be content to + browse</p> + + <p>Here on the shoulder of the hill, beneath the myrtle + boughs.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Run, (will ye?) Ball and Dogstar, down from that oak tree, + run:</p> + + <p>And feed where Spot is feeding, and catch the morning + sun.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>I have a bowl of cypress-wood: I have besides a cup:</p> + + <p>Praxiteles designed them: for <i>her</i> they're treasured + up.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I have a dog who throttles wolves: he loves the sheep, and + they</p> + + <p>Love him: I'll give him to my dear, to keep wild beasts at + bay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Ye locusts that o'erleap my fence, oh let my vines + escape</p> + + <p>Your clutches, I beseech you: the bloom is on the + grape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>Ye crickets, mark how nettled our friend the goatherd + is!</p> + + <p>I ween, ye cost the reapers pangs as acute as his.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Those foxes with their bushy tails, I hate to see them + crawl</p> + + <p>Round Micon's homestead and purloin his grapes at + evenfall.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> hate to see the beetles that come warping on the + wind.</p> + + <p>And climb Philondas' trees, and leave never a fig + behind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Have you forgot that cudgelling I gave you? At each + stroke</p> + + <p>You grinned and twisted with a grace, and clung to yonder + oak.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>That I've forgot—but I have not, how once Eumares + tied</p> + + <p>You to that selfsame oak-trunk, and tanned your unclean + hide.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>There's some one ill—of heartburn. You note it, I + presume,</p> + + <p>Morson? Go quick, and fetch a squill from some old + beldam's tomb.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I think I'm stinging somebody, as Morson too + perceives—</p> + + <p>Go to the river and dig up a clump of sowbread-leaves.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>May Himera flow, not water, but milk: and may'st thou + blush,</p> + + <p>Crathis, with wine; and fruitage grow upon every rush.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>For me may Sybaris' fountain flow, pure honey: so that + you,</p> + + <p>My fair, may dip your pitcher each morn in honey-dew.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>My goats are fed on clover and goat's-delight: they + tread</p> + + <p>On lentisk leaves; or lie them down, ripe strawberries + o'er their head.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>My sheep crop honeysuckle bloom, while all around them + blows</p> + + <p>In clusters rich the jasmine, as brave as any rose.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>I scorn my maid; for when she took my cushat, she did + not</p> + + <p>Draw with both hands my face to hers and kiss me on the + spot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>LACON.</p> + + <p>I love my love, and hugely: for, when I gave my flute,</p> + + <p>I was rewarded with a kiss, a loving one to boot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>Lacon, the nightingale should scarce be challenged by the + jay,</p> + + <p>Nor swan by hoopoe: but, poor boy, thou aye wert for a + fray.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MORSON.</p> + + <p>I bid the shepherd hold his peace. Cometas, unto you</p> + + <p>I, Morson, do adjudge the lamb. You'll first make offering + due</p> + + <p>Unto the nymphs: then savoury meat you'll send to Morson + too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMETAS.</p> + + <p>By Pan I will! Snort, all my herd of he-goats: I shall + now</p> + + <p>O'er Lacon, shepherd as he is, crow ye shall soon see + how.</p> + + <p>I've won, and I could leap sky-high! Ye also dance and + skip,</p> + + <p>My hornèd ewes: in Sybaris' fount to-morrow all + shall dip.</p> + + <p>Ho! you, sir, with the glossy coat and dangerous crest; + you dare</p> + + <p>Look at a ewe, till I have slain my lamb, and ill you'll + fare.</p> + + <p>What! is he at his tricks again? He is, and he will + get</p> + + <p>(Or my name's not Cometas) a proper pounding yet.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Drawn Battle. + </center> + + <center> + DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once</p> + + <p>Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen.</p> + + <p>One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard.</p> + + <p>And by a brookside on a summer noon</p> + + <p>The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led</p> + + <p>The song, for Daphnis was the challenger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit,</p> + + <p>And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme.</p> + + <p>Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye</p> + + <p>Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog:</p> + + <p>Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks,</p> + + <p>And, through the clear wave visible to her still,</p> + + <p>Careers along the gently babbling beach.</p> + + <p>Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen</p> + + <p>From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs.</p> + + <p>She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs</p> + + <p>In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed,</p> + + <p>Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win;</p> + + <p>For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAMOETAS.</p> + + <p>"I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind,</p> + + <p>By Pan, by this my one my precious eye</p> + + <p>That bounds my vision now and evermore!</p> + + <p>But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe,</p> + + <p>His and his children's, that he promised me!</p> + + <p>Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by,</p> + + <p>Pretend to woo another:—and she hears</p> + + <p>(Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy;</p> + + <p>And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung,</p> + + <p>Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock.</p> + + <p>'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her;</p> + + <p>For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay</p> + + <p>His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note</p> + + <p>Mayhap, and message send on message soon:</p> + + <p>But I will bar my door until she swear</p> + + <p>To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed.</p> + + <p>And I am less unlovely than men say.</p> + + <p>I looked into the mere (the mere was calm),</p> + + <p>And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed</p> + + <p>My solitary eye, and, half-revealed,</p> + + <p>My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl.</p> + + <p>Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe:</p> + + <p>That learned I of the hag Cottytaris—her</p> + + <p>Who fluted lately with Hippocoön's mowers."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly:</p> + + <p>One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute.</p> + + <p>Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe</p> + + <p>The younglings bounded in the soft green grass:</p> + + <p>And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Harvest-Home. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once on a time did Eucritus and I</p> + + <p>(With us Amyntas) to the riverside</p> + + <p>Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons</p> + + <p>Were that day busy with the harvest-home,</p> + + <p>Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung</p> + + <p>(If aught thou holdest by the good old names)</p> + + <p>By Clytia from great Chalcon—him who erst</p> + + <p>Planted one stalwart knee against the rock,</p> + + <p>And lo, beneath his foot Burinè's rill</p> + + <p>Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm</p> + + <p>Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed</p> + + <p>By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now,</p> + + <p>Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas:</p> + + <p>When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near</p> + + <p>A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas.</p> + + <p>The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell</p> + + <p>So much: for every inch a herdsman he.</p> + + <p>Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide</p> + + <p>Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired,</p> + + <p>That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped</p> + + <p>A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff</p> + + <p>A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore.</p> + + <p>Soon with a quiet smile he spoke—his eye</p> + + <p>Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip:</p> + + <p>"And whither ploddest thou thy weary way</p> + + <p>Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas?</p> + + <p>For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall,</p> + + <p>The crested lark folds now his wandering wing.</p> + + <p>Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board?</p> + + <p>Or townward to the treading of the grape?</p> + + <p>For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet</p> + + <p>The pavement-stones ring out right merrily."</p> + + <p>Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none</p> + + <p>Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match</p> + + <p>At piping: and my soul is glad thereat.</p> + + <p>Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee.</p> + + <p>Now look, this road holds holiday to-day:</p> + + <p>For banded brethren solemnise a feast</p> + + <p>To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her</p> + + <p>For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand</p> + + <p>Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors.</p> + + <p>So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine:</p> + + <p>Try we our woodcraft—each may learn from each.</p> + + <p>I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song;</p> + + <p>All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not,</p> + + <p>Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet</p> + + <p>(I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard</p> + + <p>Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song.</p> + + <p>They are as cicadas challenged by a frog."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing + light</p> + + <p>He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed</p> + + <p>A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand!</p> + + <p>I hate your builders who would rear a house</p> + + <p>High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle:</p> + + <p>I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry</p> + + <p>Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard.</p> + + <p>But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas,</p> + + <p>Our woodland music: and for my part I—</p> + + <p>List, comrade, if you like the simple air</p> + + <p>I forged among the uplands yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the + main</p> + + <p>To Mitylenè—though the southern blast</p> + + <p>Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids,</p> + + <p>Or low above the verge Orion stand—</p> + + <p>If from Love's furnace she will rescue me,</p> + + <p>For Lycidas is parched with hot desire.</p> + + <p>Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds,</p> + + <p>Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off</p> + + <p>Flutters the seaweed—halcyons, of all birds</p> + + <p>Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear</p> + + <p>By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile</p> + + <p>On her to Mitylenè voyaging,</p> + + <p>And in fair harbour may she ride at last.</p> + + <p>I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill</p> + + <p>Or rose or simple violet on my brow,</p> + + <p>Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask</p> + + <p>Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans,</p> + + <p>And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel</p> + + <p>And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled</p> + + <p>My bed of rushes, where in royal ease</p> + + <p>I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain</p> + + <p>With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs.</p> + + <p>I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both,</p> + + <p>This from Acharnæ, from Lycopè that;</p> + + <p>And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing</p> + + <p>How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid;</p> + + <p>And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks</p> + + <p>(Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal)</p> + + <p>Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away</p> + + <p>Like snow on Athos, or on Hæmus high,</p> + + <p>Or Rhodopè, or utmost Caucasus.</p> + + <p>And he shall sing me how the big chest held</p> + + <p>(All through the maniac malice of his lord)</p> + + <p>A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees,</p> + + <p>Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell,</p> + + <p>Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse</p> + + <p>Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song.</p> + + <p>Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine!</p> + + <p>Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees</p> + + <p>Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year:</p> + + <p>And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick</p> + + <p>In my day! I had led thy pretty goats</p> + + <p>About the hill-side, listening to thy voice:</p> + + <p>While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine,</p> + + <p>Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I.</p> + + <p>"I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells,</p> + + <p>Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs,</p> + + <p>Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus.</p> + + <p>But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first:</p> + + <p>Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>[<i>Sings</i>] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless + I</p> + + <p>Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring.</p> + + <p>But my best friend Aratus inly pines</p> + + <p>For one who loves him not. Aristis saw—</p> + + <p>(A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay</p> + + <p>Shrinèd Apollo's self would scarce + disdain)—</p> + + <p>How love had scorched Aratus to the bone.</p> + + <p>O Pan, who hauntest Homolè's fair champaign,</p> + + <p>Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be,</p> + + <p>Unbid to his sweet arms—so, gracious Pan,</p> + + <p>May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed</p> + + <p>With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er</p> + + <p>They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer</p> + + <p>Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep,</p> + + <p>Dinted and sore all over from their claws!</p> + + <p>Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills</p> + + <p>By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist,</p> + + <p>The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range</p> + + <p>With the far Æthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks</p> + + <p>Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves,</p> + + <p>Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes</p> + + <p>By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill,</p> + + <p>Or fair Dionè's rocky pedestal,</p> + + <p>And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike</p> + + <p>The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend.</p> + + <p>And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear?</p> + + <p>The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.'</p> + + <p>We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more,</p> + + <p>Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock</p> + + <p>Crow to wake others up to numb despair!</p> + + <p>Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave:</p> + + <p>While we make ease our study, and secure</p> + + <p>Some witch, to charm all evil from our door."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before,</p> + + <p>Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,'</p> + + <p>And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while,</p> + + <p>Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I,</p> + + <p>And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay</p> + + <p>Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed</p> + + <p>And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we?</p> + + <p>A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead;</p> + + <p>Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on</p> + + <p>From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs</p> + + <p>The sweet cicada chirped laboriously.</p> + + <p>Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away</p> + + <p>The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark</p> + + <p>Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan,</p> + + <p>And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee.</p> + + <p>All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all:</p> + + <p>Pears at our feet, and apples at our side</p> + + <p>Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground</p> + + <p>Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed</p> + + <p>From the cask's head the crust of four long years.</p> + + <p>Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks,</p> + + <p>Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er</p> + + <p>Set before Heracles a cup so brave</p> + + <p>In Pholus' cavern—did as nectarous draughts</p> + + <p>Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand</p> + + <p>Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong,</p> + + <p>Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:—</p> + + <p>As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us</p> + + <p>All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home?</p> + + <p>Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again</p> + + <p>Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles,</p> + + <p>Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_VIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL VIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Triumph of Daphnis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A GOATHERD</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as legend + tells,</p> + + <p>Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the + fells.</p> + + <p>Both chins were gilt with coming beards: both lads could + sing and play:</p> + + <p>Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to + say:—</p> + + <p>"Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing + kine?</p> + + <p>I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than + thine."</p> + + <p>Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made + reply:</p> + + <p>"O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and + high;</p> + + <p>But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing as + I."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with + me?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with + thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>But what, for champions such as we, would, seem a fitting + prize?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother's self in + size.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>A lamb I'll venture never: for aye at close of day</p> + + <p>Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are + they.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Then what shall be the victor's fee? What wager wilt thou + lay?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>A pipe discoursing through nine mouths I made, full fair + to view;</p> + + <p>The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge + true.</p> + + <p>I'll risk it: risk my father's own is more than I dare + do.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>A pipe discoursing through nine mouths, and fair, hath + Daphnis too:</p> + + <p>The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge + true.</p> + + <p>But yesterday I made it: this finger feels the pain</p> + + <p>Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in + twain.</p> + + <p>But who shall be our umpire? who listen to our strain?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>Suppose we hail yon goatherd; him at whose horned herd + now</p> + + <p>The dog is barking—yonder dog with white upon his + brow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, + and up came he;</p> + + <p>Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would + be.</p> + + <p>To shrill Menalcas' lot it fell to start the woodland + lay:</p> + + <p>Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the + way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Rivers and vales, a glorious birth! Oh if Menalcas + e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears:</p> + + <p>Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young + Daphnis fare</p> + + <p class="i2">No worse, should he stray hither with his + steers."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Pastures and rills, a bounteous race! If Daphnis sang you + e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">Such songs as ne'er from nightingale have + flowed;</p> + + <p>Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas + share</p> + + <p class="i2">Like boon, should e'er he wend along this + road."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"'Tis spring, 'tis greenness everywhere; with milk the + udders teem,</p> + + <p class="i2">And all things that are young have life + anew,</p> + + <p>Where my sweet maiden wanders: but parched and withered + seem,</p> + + <p class="i2">When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are + thronged with</p> + + <p class="i4">bees,</p> + + <p class="i2">Rises the oak beyond his natural growth,</p> + + <p>Where falls my darling's footstep: but hungriness shall + seize,</p> + + <p class="i2">When she departeth, herd and herdsman + both."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at + thy side,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where winds the brook by woodlands + myriad-deep:</p> + + <p>There is <i>her</i> haunt. Go, Stump-horn, tell her how + Proteus plied</p> + + <p class="i2">(A god) the shepherd's trade, with seals for + sheep."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king;</p> + + <p class="i2">I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze;</p> + + <p>But 'neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, + and fling</p> + + <p class="i2">(Still clasping <i>her</i>) my carol o'er the + seas."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"Storms are the fruit-tree's bane; the brook's, a summer + hot and dry;</p> + + <p class="i2">The stag's a woven net, a gin the dove's;</p> + + <p>Mankind's, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere + I:</p> + + <p class="i2">Zeus! Father! hadst not thou thy + lady-loves?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes + rehearst:</p> + + <p>Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas + first:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>"O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers + spare!</p> + + <p>Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care!</p> + + <p>What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep? It ill befits a + hound,</p> + + <p>Tending a boyish master's flock, to slumber + over-sound.</p> + + <p>And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your + fill:</p> + + <p>So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding + still.</p> + + <p>So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder + fail:</p> + + <p>Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill + my pail."</p> + + <p class="i2">Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a + nightingale:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>"Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow</p> + + <p>Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, "How fair + art thou!"</p> + + <p>I vow that not one bitter word in answer did I say,</p> + + <p>But, looking ever on the ground, went silently my way.</p> + + <p>The heifer's voice, the heifer's breath, are passing sweet + to me;</p> + + <p>And sweet is sleep by summer-brooks upon the breezy + lea:</p> + + <p>As acorns are the green oak's pride, apples the + apple-bough's;</p> + + <p>So the cow glorieth in her calf, the cowherd in his + cows."</p> + + <p>Thus the two lads; then spoke the third, sitting his goats + among:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GOATHERD.</p> + + <p>"O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly + sung;</p> + + <p>Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue.</p> + + <p>Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And should there be + some notes</p> + + <p>That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my + goats,</p> + + <p>I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath + none:</p> + + <p>Day after day she'll fill the can, until the milk + o'errun."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and + clapped his hands for</p> + + <p class="i6">glee!</p> + + <p>A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as + merrily.</p> + + <p>And how the other inly burned, struck down by his + disgrace!</p> + + <p>A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a + face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the + country side:</p> + + <p>And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his + bride.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_IX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL IX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Pastorals. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A SHEPHERD.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>SHEPHERD.</p> + + <p>A song from Daphnis! Open he the lay,</p> + + <p>He open: and Menalcas follow next:</p> + + <p>While the calves suck, and with the barren kine</p> + + <p>The young bulls graze, or roam knee-deep in leaves,</p> + + <p>And ne'er play truant. But a song from thee,</p> + + <p>Daphnis—anon Menalcas will reply.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Sweet is the chorus of the calves and kine,</p> + + <p class="i2">And sweet the herdsman's pipe. But none may + vie</p> + + <p>With Daphnis; and a rush-strown bed is mine</p> + + <p class="i2">Near a cool rill, where carpeted I lie</p> + + <p class="i2">On fair white goatskins. From a hill-top + high</p> + + <p>The westwind swept me down the herd entire,</p> + + <p class="i2">Cropping the strawberries: whence it comes that + I</p> + + <p class="i2">No more heed summer, with his breath of + fire,</p> + + <p>Than lovers heed the words of mother and of sire.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thus Daphnis: and Menalcas answered thus:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MENALCAS.</p> + + <p>O Ætna, mother mine! A grotto fair,</p> + + <p class="i2">Scooped in the rocks, have I: and there I + keep</p> + + <p>All that in dreams men picture! Treasured there</p> + + <p class="i2">Are multitudes of she-goats and of sheep,</p> + + <p class="i2">Swathed in whose wool from top to toe I + sleep.</p> + + <p>The fire that boils my pot, with oak or beech</p> + + <p class="i2">Is piled—dry beech-logs when the snow + lies deep;</p> + + <p class="i2">And storm and sunshine, I disdain them each</p> + + <p>As toothless sires a nut, when broth is in their + reach.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I clapped applause, and straight produced my + gifts:</p> + + <p class="i2">A staff for Daphnis—'twas the + handiwork</p> + + <p class="i2">Of nature, in my father's acres grown:</p> + + <p class="i2">Yet might a turner find no fault therewith.</p> + + <p class="i2">I gave his mate a goodly spiral-shell:</p> + + <p class="i2">We stalked its inmate on the Icarian rocks</p> + + <p class="i2">And ate him, parted fivefold among five.</p> + + <p>He blew forthwith the trumpet on his shell.</p> + + <p class="i2">Tell, woodland Muse—and then + farewell—what song</p> + + <p class="i2">I, the chance-comer, sang before those + twain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>SHEPHERD.</p> + + <p class="i2">Ne'er let a falsehood scarify my tongue!</p> + + <p class="i4">Crickets with crickets, ants with ants + agree,</p> + + <p class="i2">And hawks with hawks: and music sweetly + sung,</p> + + <p class="i4">Beyond all else, is grateful unto me.</p> + + <p class="i4">Filled aye with music may my dwelling be!</p> + + <p class="i2">Not slumber, not the bursting forth of + Spring</p> + + <p class="i4">So charms me, nor the flowers that tempt the + bee,</p> + + <p class="i2">As those sweet Sisters. He, on whom they + fling</p> + + <p>One gracious glance, is proof to Circè's + blandishing.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_X"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL X.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Two Workmen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>MILO. BATTUS.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>What now, poor o'erworked drudge, is on thy mind?</p> + + <p class="i3">No more in even swathe thou layest the + corn:</p> + + <p>Thy fellow-reapers leave thee far behind,</p> + + <p class="i3">As flocks a ewe that's footsore from a + thorn.</p> + + <p>By noon and midday what will be thy plight</p> + + <p>If now, so soon, thy sickle fails to bite?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Hewn from hard rocks, untired at set of sun,</p> + + <p>Milo, didst ne'er regret some absent one?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Not I. What time have workers for regret?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Hath love ne'er kept thee from thy slumbers yet?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Nay, heaven forbid! If once the cat taste cream!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Milo, these ten days love hath been my dream.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>You drain your wine, while vinegar's scarce with me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>—Hence since last spring untrimmed my borders + be.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>And what lass flouts thee?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">She whom we heard play</p> + + <p>Amongst Hippocoön's reapers yesterday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Your sins have found you out—you're e'en served + right:</p> + + <p>You'll clasp a corn-crake in your arms all night.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>You laugh: but headstrong Love is blind no less</p> + + <p>Than Plutus: talking big is foolishness.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>I talk not big. But lay the corn-ears low</p> + + <p>And trill the while some love-song—easier so</p> + + <p>Will seem your toil: you used to sing, I know.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>BATTUS.</p> + + <p>Maids of Pieria, of my slim lass sing!</p> + + <p>One touch of yours ennobles everything.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i8">[<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p>Fairy Bombyca! thee do men report</p> + + <p class="i2">Lean, dusk, a gipsy: I alone nut-brown.</p> + + <p>Violets and pencilled hyacinths are swart,</p> + + <p class="i2">Yet first of flowers they're chosen for a + crown.</p> + + <p>As goats pursue the clover, wolves the goat,</p> + + <p>And cranes the ploughman, upon thee I dote.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Had I but Croesus' wealth, we twain should stand</p> + + <p class="i2">Gold-sculptured in Love's temple; thou, thy + lyre</p> + + <p>(Ay or a rose or apple) in thy hand,</p> + + <p class="i2">I in my brave new shoon and dance-attire.</p> + + <p>Fairy Bombyca! twinkling dice thy feet,</p> + + <p>Poppies thy lips, thy ways none knows how sweet!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>MILO.</p> + + <p>Who dreamed what subtle strains our bumpkin wrought?</p> + + <p class="i2">How shone the artist in each measured + verse!</p> + + <p>Fie on the beard that I have grown for naught!</p> + + <p class="i2">Mark, lad, these lines by glorious + Lytierse.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i8">[<i>Sings</i>]</p> + + <p class="i2">O rich in fruit and cornblade: be this + field</p> + + <p class="i2">Tilled well, Demeter, and fair fruitage + yield!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Bind the sheaves, reapers: lest one, passing, + say—</p> + + <p class="i2">'A fig for these, they're never worth their + pay.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Let the mown swathes look northward, ye who + mow,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or westward—for the ears grow fattest + so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Avoid a noontide nap, ye threshing men:</p> + + <p class="i2">The chaff flies thickest from the corn-ears + then.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Wake when the lark wakes; when he slumbers, + close</p> + + <p class="i2">Your work, ye reapers: and at noontide + doze.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Boys, the frogs' life for me! They need not + him</p> + + <p class="i2">Who fills the flagon, for in drink they + swim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Better boil herbs, thou toiler after gain,</p> + + <p class="i2">Than, splitting cummin, split thy hand in + twain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Strains such as these, I trow, befit them well</p> + + <p class="i2">Who toil and moil when noon is at its + height:</p> + + <p>Thy meagre love-tale, bumpkin, though shouldst tell</p> + + <p class="i2">Thy grandam as she wakes up ere 'tis light.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Giant's Wooing + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love,</p> + + <p>Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one;</p> + + <p>And this is light and pleasant to a man,</p> + + <p>Yet hard withal to compass—minstrelsy.</p> + + <p>As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech,</p> + + <p>And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine.</p> + + <p>'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease,</p> + + <p>Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen</p> + + <p>On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph:</p> + + <p>No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer,</p> + + <p>But a fell madman, blind to all but love.</p> + + <p>Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep</p> + + <p>Unbid: while he upon the windy beach,</p> + + <p>Singing his Galatea, sat and pined</p> + + <p>From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart:</p> + + <p>Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there.</p> + + <p>Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down</p> + + <p>On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and + sang:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"White Galatea, why disdain thy love?</p> + + <p>White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb,</p> + + <p>Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes!</p> + + <p>If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large;</p> + + <p>If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone,</p> + + <p>Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near.</p> + + <p>I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since,</p> + + <p>To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell,</p> + + <p>Thou and my mother, piloted by me.</p> + + <p>I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth</p> + + <p>For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee.</p> + + <p>I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy:</p> + + <p>Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans</p> + + <p>From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye</p> + + <p>Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip.</p> + + <p>Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep</p> + + <p>That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide:</p> + + <p>In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still</p> + + <p>Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows.</p> + + <p>Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet,</p> + + <p>Singing our loves—ours, honey, thine and + mine—</p> + + <p>At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven</p> + + <p>(Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee.</p> + + <p>Oh come to me—thou shalt not rue the day—</p> + + <p>And let the mad seas beat against the shore!</p> + + <p>'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night:</p> + + <p>Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun,</p> + + <p>And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there:</p> + + <p>And a cold spring that pine-clad Ætna flings</p> + + <p>Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods!</p> + + <p>Who would not change for this the ocean-waves?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken + logs</p> + + <p>Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire.</p> + + <p>Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye,</p> + + <p>Mine only eye wherein is my delight.</p> + + <p>Oh why was I not born a finny thing,</p> + + <p>To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand,</p> + + <p>Denied thy lips—and bring thee lilies white</p> + + <p>And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom!</p> + + <p>Nay—summer hath his flowers and autumn his;</p> + + <p>I could not bring all these the selfsame day.</p> + + <p>Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road,</p> + + <p>Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim,</p> + + <p>That haply I may learn what bliss ye find</p> + + <p>In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come</p> + + <p>Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget</p> + + <p>(As I do, sitting here) to get thee home:</p> + + <p>And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth,</p> + + <p>And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"The blame's my mother's; she is false to + me;</p> + + <p>Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake,</p> + + <p>Though day by day she sees me pine and pine.</p> + + <p>I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet</p> + + <p>To anguish her—as I am anguished now."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy + wits?</p> + + <p>Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs</p> + + <p>To feed thy lambkins—'twere the shrewder part.</p> + + <p>Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe:</p> + + <p>The world hath Galateas fairer yet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"—Many a fair damsel bids me sport with + her</p> + + <p>The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear.</p> + + <p>On land at least I still am somebody."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus did the Giant feed his love on song,</p> + + <p>And gained more ease than may be bought with gold.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XII.</h2> + + <center> + The Comrades + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Thou art come, lad, come! Scarce thrice hath dusk to + day</p> + + <p>Given place—but lovers in an hour grow gray.</p> + + <p>As spring's more sweet than winter, grapes than + thorns,</p> + + <p>The ewe's fleece richer than her latest-born's;</p> + + <p>As young girls' charms the thrice-wed wife's outshine,</p> + + <p>As fawns are lither than the ungainly kine,</p> + + <p>Or as the nightingale's clear notes outvie</p> + + <p>The mingled music of all birds that fly;</p> + + <p>So at thy coming passing glad was I.</p> + + <p>I ran to greet thee e'en as pilgrims run</p> + + <p>To beechen shadows from the scorching sun:</p> + + <p>Oh if on us accordant Loves would breathe,</p> + + <p>And our two names to future years bequeath!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">'These twain'—let men say—'lived in + olden days.</p> + + <p>This was a <i>yokel</i> (in their country-phrase),</p> + + <p>That was his <i>mate</i> (so talked these simple + folk):</p> + + <p>And lovingly they bore a mutual yoke.</p> + + <p>The hearts of men were made of sterling gold,</p> + + <p>When troth met troth, in those brave days of old,'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Zeus, O gods who age not nor decay!</p> + + <p>Let e'en two hundred ages roll away,</p> + + <p>But at the last these tidings let me learn,</p> + + <p>Borne o'er the fatal pool whence none return:—</p> + + <p>"By every tongue thy constancy is sung,</p> + + <p>Thine and thy favourite's—chiefly by the young."</p> + + <p>But lo, the future is in heaven's high hand:</p> + + <p>Meanwhile thy graces all my praise demand,</p> + + <p>Not false lip-praise, not idly bubbling froth—</p> + + <p>For though thy wrath be kindled, e'en thy wrath</p> + + <p>Hath no sting in it: doubly I am caressed,</p> + + <p>And go my way repaid with interest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Oarsmen of Megara, ruled by Nisus erst!</p> + + <p>Yours be all bliss, because ye honoured first</p> + + <p>That true child-lover, Attic Diocles.</p> + + <p>Around his gravestone with the first spring-breeze</p> + + <p>Flock the bairns all, to win the kissing-prize:</p> + + <p>And whoso sweetliest lip to lip applies</p> + + <p>Goes crown-clad home to its mother. Blest is he</p> + + <p>Who in such strife is named the referee:</p> + + <p>To brightfaced Ganymede full oft he'll cry</p> + + <p>To lend his lip the potencies that lie</p> + + <p>Within that stone with which the usurers</p> + + <p>Detect base metal, and which never errs.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Hylas. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Not for us only, Nicias, (vain the dream,)</p> + + <p class="i2">Sprung from what god soe'er, was Eros born:</p> + + <p>Not to us only grace doth graceful seem,</p> + + <p class="i2">Frail things who wot not of the coming + morn.</p> + + <p>No—for Amphitryon's iron-hearted son,</p> + + <p>Who braved the lion, was the slave of one:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A fair curled creature, Hylas was his name.</p> + + <p class="i2">He taught him, as a father might his child,</p> + + <p>All songs whereby himself had risen to fame;</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor ever from his side would be beguiled</p> + + <p>When noon was high, nor when white steeds convey</p> + + <p>Back to heaven's gates the chariot of the day,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Nor when the hen's shrill brood becomes aware</p> + + <p class="i2">Of bed-time, as the mother's flapping wings</p> + + <p>Shadow the dust-browned beam. 'Twas all his care</p> + + <p class="i2">To shape unto his own imaginings</p> + + <p>And to the harness train his favourite youth,</p> + + <p>Till he became a man in very truth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Meanwhile, when kingly Jason steered in quest</p> + + <p class="i2">Of the Gold Fleece, and chieftains at his + side</p> + + <p>Chosen from all cities, proffering each her best,</p> + + <p class="i2">To rich Iolchos came that warrior tried,</p> + + <p>And joined him unto trim-built Argo's crew;</p> + + <p>And with Alcmena's son came Hylas too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Through the great gulf shot Argo like a bird—</p> + + <p class="i2">And by-and-bye reached Phasis, ne'er + o'erta'en</p> + + <p>By those in-rushing rocks, that have not stirred</p> + + <p class="i2">Since then, but bask, twin monsters, on the + main.</p> + + <p>But now, when waned the spring, and lambs were fed</p> + + <p>In far-off fields, and Pleiads gleamed overhead,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That cream and flower of knighthood looked to sail.</p> + + <p class="i2">They came, within broad Argo safely stowed,</p> + + <p>(When for three days had blown the southern gale)</p> + + <p class="i2">To Hellespont, and in Propontis rode</p> + + <p>At anchor, where Cianian oxen now</p> + + <p>Broaden the furrows with the busy plough.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They leapt ashore, and, keeping rank, prepared</p> + + <p class="i2">Their evening meal: a grassy meadow spread</p> + + <p>Before their eyes, and many a warrior shared</p> + + <p class="i2">(Thanks to its verdurous stores) one lowly + bed.</p> + + <p>And while they cut tall marigolds from their stem</p> + + <p>And sworded bulrush, Hylas slipt from them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Water the fair lad wont to seek and bring</p> + + <p class="i2">To Heracles and stalwart Telamon,</p> + + <p>(The comrades aye partook each other's fare,)</p> + + <p class="i2">Bearing a brazen pitcher. And anon,</p> + + <p>Where the ground dipt, a fountain he espied,</p> + + <p>And rushes growing green about its side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There rose the sea-blue swallow-wort, and there</p> + + <p class="i2">The pale-hued maidenhair, with parsley + green</p> + + <p>And vagrant marsh-flowers; and a revel rare</p> + + <p class="i2">In the pool's midst the water-nymphs were + seen</p> + + <p>To hold, those maidens of unslumbrous eyes</p> + + <p>Whom the belated peasant sees and flies.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And fast did Malis and Eunica cling,</p> + + <p class="i2">And young Nychea with her April face,</p> + + <p>To the lad's hand, as stooping o'er the spring</p> + + <p class="i2">He dipt his pitcher. For the young Greek's + grace</p> + + <p>Made their soft senses reel; and down he fell,</p> + + <p>All of a sudden, into that black well.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So drops a red star suddenly from sky</p> + + <p class="i2">To sea—and quoth some sailor to his + mate:</p> + + <p>"Up with the tackle, boy! the breeze is high."</p> + + <p class="i2">Him the nymphs pillowed, all disconsolate,</p> + + <p>On their sweet laps, and with soft words beguiled;</p> + + <p>But Heracles was troubled for the child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Forth went he; Scythian-wise his bow he bore</p> + + <p class="i2">And the great club that never quits his + side;</p> + + <p>And thrice called 'Hylas'—ne'er came lustier + roar</p> + + <p class="i2">From that deep chest. Thrice Hylas heard and + tried</p> + + <p>To answer, but in tones you scarce might hear;</p> + + <p>The water made them distant though so near.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And as a lion, when he hears the bleat</p> + + <p class="i2">Of fawns among the mountains far away,</p> + + <p>A murderous lion, and with hurrying feet</p> + + <p class="i2">Bounds from his lair to his predestined + prey:</p> + + <p>So plunged the strong man in the untrodden + brake—</p> + + <p>(Lovers are maniacs)—for his darling's sake.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He scoured far fields—what hill or oaken glen</p> + + <p class="i2">Remembers not that pilgrimage of pain?</p> + + <p>His troth to Jason was forgotten then.</p> + + <p class="i2">Long time the good ship tarried for those + twain</p> + + <p>With hoisted sails; night came and still they cleared</p> + + <p>The hatches, but no Heracles appeared.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>On he was wandering, reckless where he trod,</p> + + <p class="i2">So mad a passion on his vitals preyed:</p> + + <p>While Hylas had become a blessed god.</p> + + <p class="i2">But the crew cursed the runaway who had + stayed</p> + + <p>Sixty good oars, and left him there to reach</p> + + <p>Afoot bleak Phasis and the Colchian beach.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Love of Æschines. + </center> + + <center> + <i>THYONICHUS. ÆSCHINES.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>Hail, sir Thyonichus.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i12">Æschines, to you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>I have missed thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">Missed me! Why what ails him now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>My friend, I am ill at ease.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i12">Then this explains</p> + + <p>Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache</p> + + <p>And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw,</p> + + <p>A wan Pythagorean, yesterday.</p> + + <p>He said he came from Athens: shoes he had none:</p> + + <p>He pined, I'll warrant,—for a quartern loaf.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>Sir, you will joke—But I've been outraged, sore,</p> + + <p>And by Cynisca. I shall go stark mad</p> + + <p>Ere you suspect—a hair would turn the scale.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p>Such thou wert always, Æschines my friend.</p> + + <p>In lazy mood or trenchant, at thy whim</p> + + <p>The world must wag. But what's thy grievance now?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>That Argive, Apis the Thessalian Knight,</p> + + <p>Myself, and gallant Cleonicus, supped</p> + + <p>Within my grounds. Two pullets I had slain,</p> + + <p>And a prime pig: and broached my Biblian wine;</p> + + <p>'Twas four years old, but fragrant as when new.</p> + + <p>Truffles were served to us: and the drink was good.</p> + + <p>Well, we got on, and each must drain a cup</p> + + <p>To whom he fancied; only each must name.</p> + + <p>We named, and took our liquor as ordained;</p> + + <p>But she sate silent—this before my face.</p> + + <p>Fancy my feelings! "Wilt not speak? Hast seen</p> + + <p>A wolf?" some wag said. "Shrewdly guessed," quoth she,</p> + + <p>And blushed—her blushes might have fired a + torch.</p> + + <p>A wolf <i>had</i> charmed her: Wolf her neighbour's + son,</p> + + <p>Goodly and tall, and fair in divers eyes:</p> + + <p>For his illustrious sake it was she pined.</p> + + <p>This had been breathed, just idly, in my ear:</p> + + <p>Shame on my beard, I ne'er pursued the hint.</p> + + <p>Well, when we four were deep amid our cups,</p> + + <p>The Knight must sing 'The Wolf' (a local song)</p> + + <p>Right through for mischief. All at once she wept</p> + + <p>Hot tears as girls of six years old might weep,</p> + + <p>Clinging and clamouring round their mother's lap.</p> + + <p>And I, (you know my humour, friend of mine,)</p> + + <p>Drove at his face, one, two! She gathered up</p> + + <p>Her robes and vanished straightway through the door.</p> + + <p>"And so I fail to please, false lady mine?</p> + + <p>Another lies more welcome in thy lap?</p> + + <p>Go warm that other's heart: he'll say thy tears</p> + + <p>Are liquid pearls." And as a swallow flies</p> + + <p>Forth in a hurry, here or there to find</p> + + <p>A mouthful for her brood among the eaves:</p> + + <p>From her soft sofa passing-swift she fled</p> + + <p>Through folding-doors and hall, with random feet:</p> + + <p><i>'The stag had gained his heath':</i> you know the + rest.</p> + + <p>Three weeks, a month, nine days and ten to that,</p> + + <p>To-day's the eleventh: and 'tis just two months</p> + + <p>All but two days, since she and I were two.</p> + + <p>Hence is my beard of more than Thracian growth.</p> + + <p>Now Wolf is all to her: Wolf enters in</p> + + <p>At midnight; I am a cypher in her eyes;</p> + + <p>The poor Megarian, nowhere in the race.</p> + + <p>All would go right, if I could once <i>unlove</i>:</p> + + <p>But now, you wot, the rat hath tasted tar.</p> + + <p>And what may cure a swain at his wit's end</p> + + <p>I know not: Simus, (true,) a mate of mine,</p> + + <p>Loved Epichalcus' daughter, and took ship</p> + + <p>And came home cured. I too will sail the seas.</p> + + <p>Worse men, it may be better, are afloat,</p> + + <p>I shall still prove an average man-at-arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p>Now may thy love run smoothly, Æschines!</p> + + <p>But should'st thou really mean a voyage out,</p> + + <p>The freeman's best paymaster's Ptolemy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ÆSCHINES.</p> + + <p>What is he else?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THYONICHUS.</p> + + <p class="i8">A gentleman: a man</p> + + <p>Of wit and taste; the top of company;</p> + + <p>Loyal to ladies; one whose eye is keen</p> + + <p>For friends, and keener still for enemies.</p> + + <p>Large in his bounties, he, in kingly sort,</p> + + <p>Denies a boon to none: but, Æschines,</p> + + <p>One should not ask too often. This premised,</p> + + <p>If thou wilt clasp the military cloak</p> + + <p>O'er thy right shoulder, and with legs astride</p> + + <p>Await the onward rush of shielded men:</p> + + <p>Hie thee to Egypt. Age overtakes us all;</p> + + <p>Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin,</p> + + <p>Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time.</p> + + <p>Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Festival of Adonis. + </center> + + <center> + <i>GORGO. PRAXINOÄ.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Praxinoä in?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i6">Yes, Gorgo dear! At last!</p> + + <p>That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair,</p> + + <p>A cushion, Eunoä!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i10">I lack naught.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">Sit down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Oh, what a thing is spirit! Here I am,</p> + + <p>Praxinoä, safe at last from all that crowd</p> + + <p>And all those chariots—every street a mass</p> + + <p>Of boots and uniforms! And the road, my dear,</p> + + <p>Seemed endless—you live now so far away!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>This land's-end den—I cannot call it + house—</p> + + <p>My madcap hired to keep us twain apart</p> + + <p>And stir up strife. 'Twas like him, odious pest!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Nay call not, dear, your lord, your Deinon, names</p> + + <p>To the babe's face. Look how it stares at you!</p> + + <p>There, baby dear, she never meant Papa!</p> + + <p>It understands, by'r lady! Dear Papa!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Well, yesterday (that means what day you like)</p> + + <p>'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy;</p> + + <p>He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Just such another is that pickpocket</p> + + <p>My Diocleides. He bought t'other day</p> + + <p>Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit.</p> + + <p>What were they? scraps of worn-out pedlar's-bags,</p> + + <p>Sheer trash.—But put your cloak and mantle on;</p> + + <p>And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king,</p> + + <p>To see the <i>Adonis</i>. As I hear, the queen</p> + + <p>Provides us something gorgeous.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">Ay, the grand</p> + + <p>Can do things grandly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i14">When you've seen yourself,</p> + + <p>What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not.</p> + + <p>'Twere time we started!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i20">All time's holiday</p> + + <p>With idlers! Eunoä, pampered minx, the jug!</p> + + <p>Set it down here—you cats would sleep all day</p> + + <p>On cushions—Stir yourself, fetch water, quick!</p> + + <p>Water's our first want. How she holds the jug!</p> + + <p>Now, pour—not, cormorant, in that wasteful + way—</p> + + <p>You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, + enough:</p> + + <p>I have made such toilet as my fates allowed.</p> + + <p>Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well.</p> + + <p>What did it stand you in, straight off the loom?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more.</p> + + <p>Then I gave all my mind to trimming it.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Well, 'tis a great success.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p class="i26">I think it is.</p> + + <p>My mantle, Eunoä, and my parasol!</p> + + <p>Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home!</p> + + <p>Horses would bite you—Boo!--Yes, cry your fill,</p> + + <p>But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off.</p> + + <p>You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing:</p> + + <p>Call the dog in: make fast the outer door!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i36">[<i>Exeunt</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gods! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past</p> + + <p>This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms?</p> + + <p>Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much</p> + + <p>Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now</p> + + <p>Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the passer-by.</p> + + <p>What games men played erewhile—men shaped in + crime,</p> + + <p>Birds of a feather, rascals every one!</p> + + <p>—We're done for, Gorgo darling—here they + are,</p> + + <p>The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me!</p> + + <p>That bay—the savage!--reared up straight on end!</p> + + <p>Fly, Eunoä, can't you? Doggedly she stands.</p> + + <p>He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am</p> + + <p>My babe's at home.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i16">Praxinoä, never mind!</p> + + <p>See, we're before them now, and they're in line.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared</p> + + <p>Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on:</p> + + <p>A surging multitude is close behind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO [<i>to Old Lady</i>].</p> + + <p>From the palace, mother?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>OLD LADY.</p> + + <p class="i20">Ay, child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p class="i26">Is it fair</p> + + <p>Of access?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>OLD LADY.</p> + + <p class="i12">Trying brought the Greeks to Troy.</p> + + <p>Young ladies, they must try who would succeed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>The crone hath said her oracle and gone.</p> + + <p>Women know all—how Adam married Eve.</p> + + <p>—Praxinoä, look what crowds are round the + door!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoä, you</p> + + <p>Hold Eutychis—hold tight or you'll be lost.</p> + + <p>We'll enter in a body—hold us fast!</p> + + <p>Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two,</p> + + <p>Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman,</p> + + <p>(And happiness be yours) respect my robe!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>STRANGER.</p> + + <p>I could not if I would—nathless I will.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>They come in hundreds, and they push like swine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>STRANGER.</p> + + <p>Lady, take courage: it is all well now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>And now and ever be it well with thee,</p> + + <p>Sweet man, for shielding us! An honest soul</p> + + <p>And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoä:</p> + + <p>Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom + said</p> + + <p>And locked the door upon himself and bride.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Praxinoä, look! Note well this broidery first.</p> + + <p>How exquisitely fine—too good for earth!</p> + + <p>Empress Athenè, what strange sempstress wrought</p> + + <p>Such work? What painter painted, realized</p> + + <p>Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move,</p> + + <p>Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man!</p> + + <p>How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch</p> + + <p>Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek,</p> + + <p>That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A STRANGER.</p> + + <p>Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate!</p> + + <p>Their brogue is killing—every word a drawl!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Where did he spring from? Is our prattle aught</p> + + <p>To you, Sir? Order your own slaves about:</p> + + <p>You're ordering Syracusan ladies now!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Corinthians bred (to tell you one fact more)</p> + + <p>As was Bellerophon: islanders in speech,</p> + + <p>For Dorians may talk Doric, I presume?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>PRAXINOÄ.</p> + + <p>Persephonè! none lords it over me,</p> + + <p>Save one! No scullion's-wage for us from <i>you</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>Hush, dear. The Argive's daughter's going to sing</p> + + <p><i>The Adonis</i>: that accomplished vocalist</p> + + <p>Who has no rival in "<i>The Sailor's Grave</i>."</p> + + <p>Observe her attitudinizing now.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Song</i>.</p> + + <p>Queen, who lov'st Golgi and the Sicel hill</p> + + <p class="i2">And Ida; Aphroditè radiant-eyed;</p> + + <p>The stealthy-footed Hours from Acheron's rill</p> + + <p class="i2">Brought once again Adonis to thy side</p> + + <p>How changed in twelve short months! They travel slow,</p> + + <p class="i2">Those precious Hours: we hail their advent + still,</p> + + <p>For blessings do they bring to all below.</p> + + <p class="i2">O Sea-born! thou didst erst, or legend + lies,</p> + + <p>Shed on a woman's soul thy grace benign,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Berenicè's dust immortalize.</p> + + <p>O called by many names, at many a shrine!</p> + + <p class="i2">For thy sweet sake doth Berenicè's + child</p> + + <p>(Herself a second Helen) deck with all</p> + + <p class="i2">That's fair, Adonis. On his right are piled</p> + + <p>Ripe apples fallen from the oak-tree tall;</p> + + <p class="i2">And silver caskets at his left support</p> + + <p>Toy-gardens, Syrian scents enshrined in gold</p> + + <p class="i2">And alabaster, cakes of every sort</p> + + <p>That in their ovens the pastrywomen mould,</p> + + <p class="i2">When with white meal they mix all flowers that + bloom,</p> + + <p>Oil-cakes and honey-cakes. There stand portrayed</p> + + <p class="i2">Each bird, each butterfly; and in the gloom</p> + + <p>Of foliage climbing high, and downward weighed</p> + + <p class="i2">By graceful blossoms, do the young Loves + play</p> + + <p>Like nightingales, and perch on every tree,</p> + + <p class="i2">And flit, to try their wings, from spray to + spray.</p> + + <p>Then see the gold, the ebony! Only see</p> + + <p class="i2">The ivory-carven eagles, bearing up</p> + + <p class="i2">To Zeus the boy who fills his royal cup!</p> + + <p>Soft as a dream, such tapestry gleams o'erhead</p> + + <p class="i2">As the Milesian's self would gaze on, + charmed.</p> + + <p>But sweet Adonis hath his own sweet bed:</p> + + <p class="i2">Next Aphroditè sleeps the + roseate-armed,</p> + + <p>A bridegroom of eighteen or nineteen years.</p> + + <p class="i2">Kiss the smooth boyish lip—there's no + sting there!</p> + + <p>The bride hath found her own: all bliss be hers!</p> + + <p class="i2">And him at dewy dawn we'll troop to bear</p> + + <p>Down where the breakers hiss against the shore:</p> + + <p class="i2">There, with dishevelled dress and unbound + hair,</p> + + <p>Bare-bosomed all, our descant wild we'll pour:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Thou haunt'st, Adonis, earth and heaven in turn,</p> + + <p class="i2">Alone of heroes. Agamemnon ne'er</p> + + <p>Could compass this, nor Aias stout and stern:</p> + + <p class="i2">Not Hector, eldest-born of her who bare</p> + + <p>Ten sons, not Patrocles, nor safe-returned</p> + + <p>From Ilion Pyrrhus, such distinction earned:</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor, elder yet, the Lapithæ, the sons</p> + + <p>Of Pelops and Deucalion; or the crown</p> + + <p class="i2">Of Greece, Pelasgians. Gracious may'st thou + be,</p> + + <p>Adonis, now: pour new-year's blessings down!</p> + + <p class="i2">Right welcome dost thou come, Adonis dear:</p> + + <p class="i2">Come when thou wilt, thou'lt find a welcome + here."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>GORGO.</p> + + <p>'Tis fine, Praxinoä! How I envy her</p> + + <p>Her learning, and still more her luscious voice!</p> + + <p>We must go home: my husband's supperless:</p> + + <p>And, in that state, the man's just vinegar.</p> + + <p>Don't cross his path when hungry! So farewell,</p> + + <p>Adonis, and be housed 'mid welfare aye!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Value of Song. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>What fires the Muse's, what the minstrel's lays?</p> + + <p>Hers some immortal's, ours some hero's praise,</p> + + <p>Heaven is her theme, as heavenly was her birth:</p> + + <p>We, of earth earthy, sing the sons of earth.</p> + + <p>Yet who, of all that see the gray morn rise,</p> + + <p>Lifts not his latch and hails with eager eyes</p> + + <p>My Songs, yet sends them guerdonless away?</p> + + <p>Barefoot and angry homeward journey they,</p> + + <p>Taunt him who sent them on that idle quest,</p> + + <p>Then crouch them deep within their empty chest,</p> + + <p>(When wageless they return, their dismal bed)</p> + + <p>And hide on their chill knees once more their patient + head.</p> + + <p>Where are those good old times? Who thanks us, who,</p> + + <p>For our good word? Men list not now to do</p> + + <p>Great deeds and worthy of the minstrel's verse:</p> + + <p>Vassals of gain, their hand is on their purse,</p> + + <p>Their eyes on lucre: ne'er a rusty nail</p> + + <p>They'll give in kindness; this being aye their + tale:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer;</p> + + <p>Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care.</p> + + <p>We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought?</p> + + <p>I call him chief of bards who costs me naught."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Yet what if all your chests with gold are + lined?</p> + + <p>Is this enjoying wealth? Oh fools and blind!</p> + + <p>Part on your heart's desire, on minstrels spend</p> + + <p>Part; and your kindred and your kind befriend:</p> + + <p>And daily to the gods bid altar-fires ascend.</p> + + <p>Nor be ye churlish hosts, but glad the heart</p> + + <p>Of guests with wine, when they must needs depart:</p> + + <p>And reverence most the priests of sacred song:</p> + + <p>So, when hell hides you, shall your names live long;</p> + + <p>Not doomed to wail on Acheron's sunless sands,</p> + + <p>Like some poor hind, the inward of whose hands</p> + + <p>The spade hath gnarled and knotted, born to groan,</p> + + <p>Poor sire's poor offspring, hapless Penury's own!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Their monthly dole erewhile unnumbered thralls</p> + + <p>Sought in Antiochus', in Aleuas' halls;</p> + + <p>On to the Scopadæ's byres in endless line</p> + + <p>The calves ran lowing with the hornèd kine;</p> + + <p>And, marshalled by the good Creondæ's swains</p> + + <p>Myriads of choice sheep basked on Cranron's plains.</p> + + <p>Yet had their joyaunce ended, on the day</p> + + <p>When their sweet spirit dispossessed its clay,</p> + + <p>To hated Acheron's ample barge resigned.</p> + + <p>Nameless, their stored-up luxury left behind,</p> + + <p>With the lorn dead through ages had they lain,</p> + + <p>Had not a minstrel bade them live again:—</p> + + <p>Had not in woven words the Ceïan sire</p> + + <p>Holding sweet converse with his full-toned lyre</p> + + <p>Made even their swift steeds for aye renowned,</p> + + <p>When from the sacred lists they came home crowned.</p> + + <p>Forgot were Lycia's chiefs, and Hector's hair</p> + + <p>Of gold, and Cycnus femininely fair;</p> + + <p>But that bards bring old battles back to mind.</p> + + <p>Odysseus—he who roamed amongst mankind</p> + + <p>A hundred years and more, reached utmost hell</p> + + <p>Alive, and 'scaped the giant's hideous cell—</p> + + <p>Had lived and died: Eumæus and his swine;</p> + + <p>Philoetius, busy with his herded kine;</p> + + <p>And great Laërtes' self, had passed away,</p> + + <p>Were not their names preserved in Homer's lay.</p> + + <p>Through song alone may man true glory taste;</p> + + <p>The dead man's riches his survivors waste.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">But count the waves, with yon gray wind-swept + main</p> + + <p>Borne shoreward: from a red brick wash his stain</p> + + <p>In some pool's violet depths: 'twill task thee yet</p> + + <p>To reach the heart on baleful avarice set.</p> + + <p>To such I say 'Fare well': let theirs be store</p> + + <p>Of wealth; but let them always crave for more:</p> + + <p>Horses and mules inferior things <i>I</i> find</p> + + <p>To the esteem and love of all mankind.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">But to what mortal's roof may I repair,</p> + + <p>I and my Muse, and find a welcome there?</p> + + <p>I and my Muse: for minstrels fare but ill,</p> + + <p>Reft of those maids, who know the mightiest's will.</p> + + <p>The cycle of the years, it flags not yet;</p> + + <p>In many a chariot many a steed shall sweat:</p> + + <p>And one, to manhood grown, my lays shall claim,</p> + + <p>Whose deeds shall rival great Achilles' fame,</p> + + <p>Who from stout Aias might have won the prize</p> + + <p>On Simois' plain, where Phrygian Ilus lies.</p> + + <p>Now, in their sunset home on Libya's heel,</p> + + <p>Phoenicia's sons unwonted chillness feel:</p> + + <p>Now, with his targe of willow at his breast,</p> + + <p>The Syracusan bears his spear in rest,</p> + + <p>Amongst these Hiero arms him for the war,</p> + + <p>Eager to fight as warriors fought of yore;</p> + + <p>The plumes float darkling o'er his helmèd brow.</p> + + <p>O Zeus, the sire most glorious; and O thou,</p> + + <p>Empress Athenè; and thou, damsel fair,</p> + + <p>Who with thy mother wast decreed to bear</p> + + <p>Rule o'er rich Corinth, o'er that city of pride</p> + + <p>Beside whose walls Anapus' waters glide:—</p> + + <p>May ill winds waft across the Southern sea</p> + + <p>(Of late a legion, now but two or three,)</p> + + <p>Far from our isle, our foes; the doom to tell,</p> + + <p>To wife and child, of those they loved so well;</p> + + <p>While the old race enjoy once more the lands</p> + + <p>Spoiled and insulted erst by alien hands!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And fair and fruitful may their cornlands + be!</p> + + <p>Their flocks in thousands bleat upon the lea,</p> + + <p>Fat and full-fed; their kine, as home they wind,</p> + + <p>The lagging traveller of his rest remind!</p> + + <p>With might and main their fallows let them till:</p> + + <p>Till comes the seedtime, and cicalas trill</p> + + <p>(Hid from the toilers of the hot midday</p> + + <p>In the thick leafage) on the topmost spray!</p> + + <p>O'er shield and spear their webs let spiders spin,</p> + + <p>And none so much as name the battle-din!</p> + + <p>Then Hiero's lofty deeds may minstrels bear</p> + + <p>Beyond the Scythian ocean-main, and where</p> + + <p>Within those ample walls, with asphalt made</p> + + <p>Time-proof, Semiramis her empire swayed.</p> + + <p>I am but a single voice: but many a bard</p> + + <p>Beside me do those heavenly maids regard:</p> + + <p>May those all love to sing, 'mid earth's acclaim,</p> + + <p>Of Sicel Arethuse, and Hiero's fame.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O Graces, royal nurselings, who hold dear</p> + + <p>The Minyæ's city, once the Theban's fear:</p> + + <p>Unbidden I tarry, whither bidden I fare</p> + + <p>My Muse my comrade. And be ye too there,</p> + + <p>Sisters divine! Were ye and song forgot,</p> + + <p>What grace had earth? With you be aye my lot!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Praise of Ptolemy. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>With Zeus begin, sweet sisters, end with Zeus,</p> + + <p>When ye would sing the sovereign of the skies:</p> + + <p>But first among mankind rank Ptolemy;</p> + + <p>First, last, and midmost; being past compare.</p> + + <p>Those mighty ones of old, half men half gods,</p> + + <p>Wrought deeds that shine in many a subtle strain;</p> + + <p>I, no unpractised minstrel, sing but him;</p> + + <p>Divinest ears disdain not minstrelsy.</p> + + <p>But as a woodman sees green Ida rise</p> + + <p>Pine above pine, and ponders which to fell</p> + + <p>First of those myriads; even so I pause</p> + + <p>Where to begin the chapter of his praise:</p> + + <p>For thousand and ten thousand are the gifts</p> + + <p>Wherewith high heaven hath graced the kingliest king.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Was not he born to compass noblest ends,</p> + + <p>Lagus' own son, so soon as he matured</p> + + <p>Schemes such as ne'er had dawned on meaner minds?</p> + + <p>Zeus doth esteem him as the blessèd gods;</p> + + <p>In the sire's courts his golden mansion stands.</p> + + <p>And near him Alexander sits and smiles,</p> + + <p>The turbaned Persian's dread; and, fronting both,</p> + + <p>Rises the stedfast adamantine seat</p> + + <p>Erst fashioned for the bull-slayer Heracles.</p> + + <p>Who there holds revels with his heavenly mates,</p> + + <p>And sees, with joy exceeding, children rise</p> + + <p>On children; for that Zeus exempts from age</p> + + <p>And death their frames who sprang from Heracles:</p> + + <p>And Ptolemy, like Alexander, claims</p> + + <p>From him; his gallant son their common sire.</p> + + <p>And when, the banquet o'er, the Strong Man wends,</p> + + <p>Cloyed with rich nectar, home unto his wife,</p> + + <p>This kinsman hath in charge his cherished shafts</p> + + <p>And bow; and that his gnarled and knotted club;</p> + + <p>And both to white-limbed Hebè's bower of bliss</p> + + <p>Convoy the bearded warrior and his arms.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then how among wise ladies—blest the + pair</p> + + <p>That reared her!--peerless Berenicè shone!</p> + + <p>Dionè's sacred child, the Cyprian queen,</p> + + <p>O'er that sweet bosom passed her taper hands:</p> + + <p>And hence, 'tis said, no man loved woman e'er</p> + + <p>As Ptolemy loved her. She o'er-repaid</p> + + <p>His love; so, nothing doubting, he could leave</p> + + <p>His substance in his loyal children's care,</p> + + <p>And rest with her, fond husband with fond wife.</p> + + <p>She that loves not bears sons, but all unlike</p> + + <p>Their father: for her heart was otherwhere.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O Aphroditè, matchless e'en in + heaven</p> + + <p>For beauty, thou didst love her; wouldst not let</p> + + <p>Thy Berenicè cross the wailful waves:</p> + + <p>But thy hand snatched her—to the blue lake bound</p> + + <p>Else, and the dead's grim ferryman—and enshrined</p> + + <p>With thee, to share thy honours. There she sits,</p> + + <p>To mortals ever kind, and passion soft</p> + + <p>Inspires, and makes the lover's burden light.</p> + + <p>The dark-browed Argive, linked with Tydeus, bare</p> + + <p>Diomed the slayer, famed in Calydon:</p> + + <p>And deep-veiled Thetis unto Peleus gave</p> + + <p>The javelineer Achilles. Thou wast born</p> + + <p>Of Berenicè, Ptolemy by name</p> + + <p>And by descent, a warrior's warrior child.</p> + + <p>Cos from its mother's arms her babe received,</p> + + <p>Its destined nursery, on its natal day:</p> + + <p>'Twas there Antigonè's daughter in her pangs</p> + + <p>Cried to the goddess that could bid them cease:</p> + + <p>Who soon was at her side, and lo! her limbs</p> + + <p>Forgat their anguish, and a child was born</p> + + <p>Fair, its sire's self. Cos saw, and shouted loud;</p> + + <p>Handled the babe all tenderly, and spake:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus + doth</p> + + <p>His azure-spherèd Delos: grace the hill</p> + + <p>Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores,</p> + + <p>As king Apollo his Rhenæa's isle."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i3">So spake the isle. An eagle high overhead</p> + + <p>Poised in the clouds screamed thrice, the prophet-bird</p> + + <p>Of Zeus, and sent by him. For awful kings</p> + + <p>All are his care, those chiefliest on whose birth</p> + + <p>He smiled: exceeding glory waits on them:</p> + + <p>Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea.</p> + + <p>But if a myriad realms spread far and wide</p> + + <p>O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil</p> + + <p>To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land</p> + + <p>Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile</p> + + <p>Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe?</p> + + <p>Where are like cities, peopled by like men?</p> + + <p>Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise,</p> + + <p>Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all</p> + + <p>He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby,</p> + + <p>Syria and Libya, and the Æthiops murk;</p> + + <p>Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves,</p> + + <p>The Lycian and the Carian trained to war,</p> + + <p>And all the isles: for never fleet like his</p> + + <p>Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike</p> + + <p>And sounding rivers hail king Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Many are his horsemen, many his targeteers,</p> + + <p>Whose burdened breast is bright with clashing steel:</p> + + <p>Light are all royal treasuries, weighed with his.</p> + + <p>For wealth from all climes travels day by day</p> + + <p>To his rich realm, a hive of prosperous peace.</p> + + <p>No foeman's tramp scares monster-peopled Nile,</p> + + <p>Waking to war her far-off villages:</p> + + <p>No armed robber from his war-ship leaps</p> + + <p>To spoil the herds of Egypt. Such a prince</p> + + <p>Sits throned in her broad plains, in whose right arm</p> + + <p>Quivers the spear, the bright-haired Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>Like a true king, he guards with might and main</p> + + <p>The wealth his sires' arm won him and his own.</p> + + <p>Nor strown all idly o'er his sumptuous halls</p> + + <p>Lie piles that seem the work of labouring ants.</p> + + <p>The holy homes of gods are rich therewith;</p> + + <p>Theirs are the firstfruits, earnest aye of more.</p> + + <p>And freely mighty kings thereof partake,</p> + + <p>Freely great cities, freely honoured friends.</p> + + <p>None entered e'er the sacred lists of song,</p> + + <p>Whose lips could breathe sweet music, but he gained</p> + + <p>Fair guerdon at the hand of Ptolemy.</p> + + <p>And Ptolemy do music's votaries hymn</p> + + <p>For his good gifts—hath man a fairer lot</p> + + <p>Than to have earned much fame among mankind?</p> + + <p>The Atridæ's name abides, while all the wealth</p> + + <p>Won from the sack of Priam's stately home</p> + + <p>A mist closed o'er it, to be seen no more.</p> + + <p>Ptolemy, he only, treads a path whose dust</p> + + <p>Burns with the footprints of his ancestors,</p> + + <p>And overlays those footprints with his own.</p> + + <p>He raised rich shrines to mother and to sire,</p> + + <p>There reared their forms in ivory and gold,</p> + + <p>Passing in beauty, to befriend mankind.</p> + + <p>Thighs of fat oxen oftentimes he burns</p> + + <p>On crimsoning altars, as the months roll on,</p> + + <p>Ay he and his staunch wife. No fairer bride</p> + + <p>E'er clasped her lord in royal palaces:</p> + + <p>And her heart's love her brother-husband won.</p> + + <p>In such blest union joined the immortal pair</p> + + <p>Whom queenly Rhea bore, and heaven obeys:</p> + + <p>One couch the maiden of the rainbow decks</p> + + <p>With myrrh-dipt hands for Hera and for Zeus.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now farewell, prince! I rank thee aye with + gods:</p> + + <p>And read this lesson to the afterdays,</p> + + <p>Mayhap they'll prize it: 'Honour is of Zeus.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XVIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XVIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Bridal of Helen. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Whilom, in Lacedæmon,</p> + + <p class="i2">Tript many a maiden fair</p> + + <p>To gold-tressed Menelaus' halls,</p> + + <p class="i2">With hyacinths in her hair:</p> + + <p>Twelve to the Painted Chamber,</p> + + <p class="i2">The queenliest in the land,</p> + + <p>The clustered loveliness of Greece,</p> + + <p class="i2">Came dancing hand in hand.</p> + + <p>For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter,</p> + + <p class="i2">Had just been wooed and won,</p> + + <p>Helen the darling of the world,</p> + + <p class="i2">By Atreus' younger son:</p> + + <p>With woven steps they beat the floor</p> + + <p class="i2">In unison, and sang</p> + + <p>Their bridal-hymn of triumph</p> + + <p class="i2">Till all the palace rang.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Slumberest so soon, sweet bridegroom?</p> + + <p class="i2">Art thou o'erfond of sleep?</p> + + <p>Or hast thou leadenweighted limbs?</p> + + <p class="i2">Or hadst thou drunk too deep</p> + + <p>When thou didst fling thee to thy lair?</p> + + <p class="i2">Betimes thou should'st have sped,</p> + + <p>If sleep were all thy purpose,</p> + + <p class="i2">Unto thy bachelor's bed:</p> + + <p>And left her in her mother's arms</p> + + <p class="i2">To nestle, and to play</p> + + <p>A girl among her girlish mates</p> + + <p class="i2">Till deep into the day:—</p> + + <p>For not alone for this night,</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor for the next alone,</p> + + <p>But through the days and through the years</p> + + <p class="i2">Thou hast her for thine own.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Nay! heaven, O happy bridegroom,</p> + + <p class="i2">Smiled as thou enteredst in</p> + + <p>To Sparta, like thy brother kings,</p> + + <p class="i2">And told thee thou should'st win!</p> + + <p>What hero son-in-law of Zeus</p> + + <p class="i2">Hath e'er aspired to be?</p> + + <p>Yet lo! one coverlet enfolds</p> + + <p class="i2">The child of Zeus, and thee.</p> + + <p>Ne'er did a thing so lovely</p> + + <p class="i2">Roam the Achaian lea.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And who shall match her offspring,</p> + + <p class="i2">If babes are like their mother?</p> + + <p>For we were playmates once, and ran</p> + + <p class="i2">And raced with one another</p> + + <p>(All varnished, warrior fashion)</p> + + <p class="i2">Along Eurotas' tide,</p> + + <p>Thrice eighty gentle maidens,</p> + + <p class="i2">Each in her girlhood's pride:</p> + + <p>Yet none of all seemed faultless,</p> + + <p class="i2">If placed by Helen's side.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As peers the nascent Morning</p> + + <p class="i2">Over thy shades, O Night,</p> + + <p>When Winter disenchains the land,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Spring goes forth in white:</p> + + <p>So Helen shone above us,</p> + + <p class="i2">All loveliness and light.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As climbs aloft some cypress,</p> + + <p class="i2">Garden or glade to grace;</p> + + <p>As the Thessalian courser lends</p> + + <p class="i2">A lustre to the race:</p> + + <p>So bright o'er Lacedæmon</p> + + <p class="i2">Shone Helen's rosebud face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And who into the basket e'er</p> + + <p class="i2">The yarn so deftly drew,</p> + + <p>Or through the mazes of the web</p> + + <p class="i2">So well the shuttle threw,</p> + + <p>And severed from the framework</p> + + <p class="i2">As closelywov'n a warp:—</p> + + <p>And who could wake with masterhand</p> + + <p class="i2">Such music from the harp,</p> + + <p>To broadlimbed Pallas tuning</p> + + <p class="i2">And Artemis her lay—</p> + + <p>As Helen, Helen in whose eyes</p> + + <p class="i2">The Loves for ever play?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"O bright, O beautiful, for thee</p> + + <p class="i2">Are matron-cares begun.</p> + + <p>We to green paths and blossomed meads</p> + + <p class="i2">With dawn of morn must run,</p> + + <p>And cull a breathing chaplet;</p> + + <p class="i2">And still our dream shall be,</p> + + <p>Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs</p> + + <p class="i2">Yearn in the pasture for the dams</p> + + <p>That nursed their infancy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"For thee the lowly lotus-bed</p> + + <p class="i2">We'll spoil, and plait a crown</p> + + <p>To hang upon the shadowy plane;</p> + + <p class="i2">For thee will we drop down</p> + + <p>('Neath that same shadowy platan)</p> + + <p class="i2">Oil from our silver urn;</p> + + <p>And carven on the bark shall be</p> + + <p class="i2">This sentence, 'HALLOW HELEN'S TREE';</p> + + <p>In Dorian letters, legibly</p> + + <p class="i2">For all men to discern.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Now farewell, bride, and bridegroom</p> + + <p class="i2">Blest in thy new-found sire!</p> + + <p>May Leto, mother of the brave,</p> + + <p class="i2">Bring babes at your desire,</p> + + <p>And holy Cypris either's breast</p> + + <p class="i2">With mutual transport fire:</p> + + <p>And Zeus the son of Cronos</p> + + <p class="i2">Grant blessings without end,</p> + + <p>From princely sire to princely son</p> + + <p class="i2">For ever to descend.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Sleep on, and love and longing</p> + + <p class="i2">Breathe in each other's breast;</p> + + <p>But fail not when the morn returns</p> + + <p class="i2">To rouse you from your rest:</p> + + <p>With dawn shall we be stirring,</p> + + <p class="i2">When, lifting high his fair</p> + + <p>And feathered neck, the earliest bird</p> + + <p class="i2">To clarion to the dawn is heard.</p> + + <p class="i4">O god of brides and bridals,</p> + + <p class="i6">Sing 'Happy, happy pair!'"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XIX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XIX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Love Stealing Honey. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once thievish Love the honeyed hives would rob,</p> + + <p>When a bee stung him: soon he felt a throb</p> + + <p>Through all his finger-tips, and, wild with pain,</p> + + <p>Blew on his hands and stamped and jumped in vain.</p> + + <p>To Aphroditè then he told his woe:</p> + + <p>'How can a thing so tiny hurt one so?'</p> + + <p>She smiled and said; 'Why thou'rt a tiny thing,</p> + + <p>As is the bee; yet sorely thou canst sting.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Town and Country + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Once I would kiss Eunicè. "Back," quoth she,</p> + + <p>And screamed and stormed; "a sorry clown kiss me?</p> + + <p>Your country compliments, I like not such;</p> + + <p>No lips but gentles' would I deign to touch.</p> + + <p>Ne'er dream of kissing me: alike I shun</p> + + <p>Your face, your language, and your tigerish fun.</p> + + <p>How winning are your tones, how fine your air!</p> + + <p>Your beard how silken and how sweet your hair!</p> + + <p>Pah! you've a sick man's lips, a blackamoor's hand:</p> + + <p>Your breath's defilement. Leave me, I command."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thrice spat she on her robe, and, muttering + low,</p> + + <p>Scanned me, with half-shut eyes, from top to toe:</p> + + <p>Brought all her woman's witcheries into play,</p> + + <p>Still smiling in a set sarcastic way,</p> + + <p>Till my blood boiled, my visage crimson grew</p> + + <p>With indignation, as a rose with dew:</p> + + <p>And so she left me, inly to repine</p> + + <p>That such as she could flout such charms as mine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">O shepherds, tell me true! Am I not fair?</p> + + <p>Am I transformed? For lately I did wear</p> + + <p>Grace as a garment; and my cheeks, o'er them</p> + + <p>Ran the rich growth like ivy round the stem.</p> + + <p>Like fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed;</p> + + <p>O'er my dark eyebrows, white my forehead gleamed:</p> + + <p>My eyes were of Athenè's radiant blue,</p> + + <p>My mouth was milk, its accents honeydew.</p> + + <p>Then I could sing—my tones were soft + indeed!—</p> + + <p>To pipe or flute or flageolet or reed:</p> + + <p>And me did every maid that roams the fell</p> + + <p>Kiss and call fair: not so this city belle.</p> + + <p>She scorns the herdsman; knows not how divine</p> + + <p>Bacchus ranged once the valleys with his kine;</p> + + <p>How Cypris, maddened for a herdsman's sake,</p> + + <p>Deigned upon Phrygia's mountains to partake</p> + + <p>His cares: and wooed, and wept, Adonis in the brake.</p> + + <p>What was Endymion, sweet Selenè's love?</p> + + <p>A herdsman's lad. Yet came she from above,</p> + + <p>Down to green Latmos, by his side to sleep.</p> + + <p>And did not Rhea for a herdsman weep?</p> + + <p>Didst not thou, Zeus, become a wandering bird,</p> + + <p>To win the love of one who drove a herd?</p> + + <p>Selenè, Cybelè, Cypris, all loved + swains:</p> + + <p>Eunicè, loftier-bred, their kiss disdains.</p> + + <p>Henceforth, by hill or hall, thy love disown,</p> + + <p>Cypris, and sleep the livelong night alone.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Fishermen. + </center> + + <center> + <i>ASPHALION, A COMRADE.</i> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work,</p> + + <p>O Diophantus: for the child of toil</p> + + <p>Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares:</p> + + <p>Or, if he taste the blessedness of night,</p> + + <p>Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Two ancient fishers once lay side by side</p> + + <p>On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut,</p> + + <p>Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay</p> + + <p>The weapons of their trade, basket and rod,</p> + + <p>Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars,</p> + + <p>And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat.</p> + + <p>Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out</p> + + <p>With caps and garments: such the ways and means,</p> + + <p>Such the whole treasury of the fishermen.</p> + + <p>They knew no luxuries: owned nor door nor dog;</p> + + <p>Their craft their all, their mistress Poverty:</p> + + <p>Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye</p> + + <p>Bound their lorn hut came floating lazily.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Ere the moon's chariot was in mid-career,</p> + + <p>The fishers girt them for their customed toil,</p> + + <p>And banished slumber from unwilling eyes,</p> + + <p>And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"They say that soon flit summer-nights + away,</p> + + <p>Because all lingering is the summer day:</p> + + <p>Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I</p> + + <p>Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky.</p> + + <p>How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>HIS COMRADE.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so.</p> + + <p>'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong,</p> + + <p>But care maims slumber, and the nights seem long."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Didst thou e'er study dreams? For visions + fair</p> + + <p>I saw last night; and fairly thou should'st share</p> + + <p>The wealth I dream of, as the fish I catch.</p> + + <p>Now, for sheer sense, I reckon few thy match;</p> + + <p>And, for a vision, he whose motherwit</p> + + <p>Is his sole tutor best interprets it.</p> + + <p>And now we've time the matter to discuss:</p> + + <p>For who could labour, lying here (like us)</p> + + <p>Pillowed on leaves and neighboured by the deep,</p> + + <p>Or sleeping amid thorns no easy sleep?</p> + + <p>In rich men's halls the lamps are burning yet;</p> + + <p>But fish come alway to the rich man's net."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMRADE.</p> + + <p class="i2">"To me the vision of the night relate;</p> + + <p>Speak, and reveal the riddle to thy mate."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>ASPHALION.</p> + + <p class="i2">"Last evening, as I plied my watery trade,</p> + + <p>(Not on an o'erfull stomach—we had made</p> + + <p>Betimes a meagre meal, as you can vouch,)</p> + + <p>I fell asleep; and lo! I seemed to crouch</p> + + <p>Among the boulders, and for fish to wait,</p> + + <p>Still dangling, rod in hand, my vagrant bait.</p> + + <p>A fat fellow caught it: (e'en in sleep I'm bound</p> + + <p>To dream of fishing, as of crusts the hound:)</p> + + <p>Fast clung he to the hooks; his blood outwelled;</p> + + <p>Bent with his struggling was the rod I held:</p> + + <p>I tugged and tugged: my efforts made me ache:</p> + + <p>'How, with a line thus slight, this monster take?'</p> + + <p>Then gently, just to warn him he was caught,</p> + + <p>I twitched him once; then slacked and then made taut</p> + + <p>My line, for now he offered not to ran;</p> + + <p>A glance soon showed me all my task was done.</p> + + <p>'Twas a gold fish, pure metal every inch</p> + + <p>That I had captured. I began to flinch:</p> + + <p>'What if this beauty be the sea-king's joy,</p> + + <p>Or azure Amphitritè's treasured toy!'</p> + + <p>With care I disengaged him—not to rip</p> + + <p>With hasty hook the gilding from his lip:</p> + + <p>And with a tow-line landed him, and swore</p> + + <p>Never to set my foot on ocean more,</p> + + <p>But with my gold live royally ashore.</p> + + <p>So I awoke: and, comrade, lend me now</p> + + <p>Thy wits, for I am troubled for my vow."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>COMRADE.</p> + + <p>"Ne'er quake: you're pledged to nothing, for no prize</p> + + <p>You gained or gazed on. Dreams are nought but lies.</p> + + <p>Yet may this dream bear fruit; if, wide-awake</p> + + <p>And not in dreams, you'll fish the neighbouring lake.</p> + + <p>Fish that are meat you'll there mayhap behold,</p> + + <p>Not die of famine, amid dreams of gold."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Sons of Leda + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The pair I sing, that Ægis-armèd Zeus</p> + + <p>Gave unto Leda; Castor and the dread</p> + + <p>Of bruisers Polydeuces, whensoe'er</p> + + <p>His harnessed hands were lifted for the fray.</p> + + <p>Twice and again I sing the manly sons</p> + + <p>Of Leda, those Twin Brethren, Sparta's own:</p> + + <p>Who shield the soldier on the deadly scarp,</p> + + <p>The horse wild-plunging o'er the crimson field,</p> + + <p>The ship that, disregarding in her pride</p> + + <p>Star-set and star-rise, meets disastrous gales:—</p> + + <p>Such gales as pile the billows mountain-high,</p> + + <p>E'en at their own wild will, round stem or stern:</p> + + <p>Dash o'er the hold, the timbers rive in twain,</p> + + <p>Till mast and tackle dangle in mid-air</p> + + <p>Shivered like toys, and, as the night wears on,</p> + + <p>The rain of heaven falls fast, and, lashed by wind</p> + + <p>And iron hail, broad ocean rings again.</p> + + <p>Then can they draw from out the nether abyss</p> + + <p>Both craft and crew, each deeming he must die:</p> + + <p>Lo the winds cease, and o'er the burnished deep</p> + + <p>Comes stillness; this way flee the clouds and that;</p> + + <p>And shine out clear the Great Bear and the Less,</p> + + <p>And, 'twixt the Asses dimly seen, the Crib</p> + + <p>Foretells fair voyage to the mariner.</p> + + <p>O saviours, O companions of mankind,</p> + + <p>Matchless on horse or harp, in lists or lay;</p> + + <p>Which of ye twain demands my earliest song?</p> + + <p>Of both I sing; of Polydeuces first.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks,</p> + + <p>And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws,</p> + + <p>Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight;</p> + + <p>There by one ladder disembarked a host</p> + + <p>Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship.</p> + + <p>On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff,</p> + + <p>They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires:</p> + + <p>Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed,</p> + + <p>And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face,</p> + + <p>Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both,</p> + + <p>Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found</p> + + <p>Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring</p> + + <p>Brimful of purest water. In the depths</p> + + <p>Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed</p> + + <p>The pebbles: high above it pine and plane</p> + + <p>And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green;</p> + + <p>With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes</p> + + <p>The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee.</p> + + <p>There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk</p> + + <p>And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears:</p> + + <p>Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbèd chest;</p> + + <p>Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame:</p> + + <p>And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm</p> + + <p>Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones</p> + + <p>Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth</p> + + <p>By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine</p> + + <p>Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin.</p> + + <p>Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Can silver move thee? or if not, what can?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Stand up and fight me singly, man with man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POLYDEUCES.</p> + + <p>By crimson-crested cocks such games are won.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMYCUS.</p> + + <p>Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and + blew</p> + + <p>His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine</p> + + <p>Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,</p> + + <p>Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too,</p> + + <p>The peerless in the lists, went forth and called</p> + + <p>From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then either warrior armed with coils of + hide</p> + + <p>His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands,</p> + + <p>And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring.</p> + + <p>First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch</p> + + <p>The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil,</p> + + <p>O Polydeuces, valour by address;</p> + + <p>And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote.</p> + + <p>He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war;</p> + + <p>Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed,</p> + + <p>Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still,</p> + + <p>And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows.</p> + + <p>Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered</p> + + <p>Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space</p> + + <p>This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down.</p> + + <p>But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus</p> + + <p>Scored him with swift exchange of left and right,</p> + + <p>And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child</p> + + <p>Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds,</p> + + <p>He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood.</p> + + <p>Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw</p> + + <p>The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars,</p> + + <p>And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes.</p> + + <p>Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there</p> + + <p>A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all,</p> + + <p>Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose,</p> + + <p>And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man</p> + + <p>Measured his length supine amid the fern.</p> + + <p>Keen was the fighting when he rose again,</p> + + <p>Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt.</p> + + <p>But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest</p> + + <p>And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe</p> + + <p>Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds.</p> + + <p>While the one sweated all his bulk away,</p> + + <p>And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now,</p> + + <p>The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought</p> + + <p>In semblance and in size. But in what wise</p> + + <p>The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed,</p> + + <p>Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold</p> + + <p>A secret not mine own; at thy behest</p> + + <p>Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed,</p> + + <p>Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge</p> + + <p>Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved</p> + + <p>From his right hip his ponderous other-arm.</p> + + <p>And hit and harmed had been Amyclæ's king;</p> + + <p>But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist</p> + + <p>The foe's left temple—fast the life-blood + streamed</p> + + <p>From the grim rift—and on his shoulder fell.</p> + + <p>While with his left he reached the mouth, and made</p> + + <p>The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye</p> + + <p>His plashing blows, made havoc of his face</p> + + <p>And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad</p> + + <p>He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed</p> + + <p>The strife, for he was even at death's door.</p> + + <p>No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands,</p> + + <p>O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath,</p> + + <p>Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths,</p> + + <p>Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I + thee,</p> + + <p>Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse</p> + + <p>And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <center> + PART II. + </center> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away,</p> + + <p>Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit</p> + + <p>Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus,</p> + + <p>Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords.</p> + + <p>And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained,</p> + + <p>All leapt from out their cars, and front to front</p> + + <p>Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields.</p> + + <p>First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in + hand,</p> + + <p>Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives?</p> + + <p>To us Leucippus these his daughters gave,</p> + + <p>Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath.</p> + + <p>Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed</p> + + <p>And kine and asses and whatever is his,</p> + + <p>Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes.</p> + + <p>How often spake I thus before your face,</p> + + <p>Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase:</p> + + <p>'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men</p> + + <p>Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere.</p> + + <p>Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds</p> + + <p>Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad,</p> + + <p>And Argos and Messene and the towns</p> + + <p>To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach.</p> + + <p>There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid</p> + + <p>Second to none in godliness or wit:</p> + + <p>Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will,</p> + + <p>For all men court the kinship of the brave;</p> + + <p>And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood</p> + + <p>Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war.</p> + + <p>Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass;</p> + + <p>Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.'</p> + + <p>So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas</p> + + <p>The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace</p> + + <p>With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice.</p> + + <p>Yet listen to me now if ne'er before:</p> + + <p>Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side.</p> + + <p>But if ye lust for war, if strife must break</p> + + <p>Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud,</p> + + <p>Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands</p> + + <p>And his cousin Idas from the abhorrèd fray:</p> + + <p>While I and Castor, the two younger-born,</p> + + <p>Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires</p> + + <p>Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead</p> + + <p>Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates,</p> + + <p>To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave,</p> + + <p>And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were</p> + + <p>At cost so small to lay so huge a strife."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spoke—his words heaven gave not to the + winds.</p> + + <p>They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled</p> + + <p>Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring,</p> + + <p>And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear.</p> + + <p>And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance;</p> + + <p>High waved the plume on either warrior's helm.</p> + + <p>First each at other thrust with busy spear</p> + + <p>Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed:</p> + + <p>But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields</p> + + <p>Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain.</p> + + <p>Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new + modes</p> + + <p>Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none.</p> + + <p>Oft Castor on broad shield and plumèd helm</p> + + <p>Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield,</p> + + <p>Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon,</p> + + <p>As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee,</p> + + <p>Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off</p> + + <p>His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword.</p> + + <p>And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb</p> + + <p>He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw</p> + + <p>The battle of the brethren. But the child</p> + + <p>Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave</p> + + <p>Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke</p> + + <p>His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell,</p> + + <p>And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep.</p> + + <p>Nor did their mother see her elder son</p> + + <p>Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home.</p> + + <p>For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb</p> + + <p>A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man</p> + + <p>Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid,</p> + + <p>And struck the marble fabric from his grasp,</p> + + <p>And with red lightning burned his frame to dust.</p> + + <p>So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke</p> + + <p>The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire.</p> + + <p>Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye</p> + + <p>The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well</p> + + <p>The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs</p> + + <p>That trod Troy down for Meneläus' sake?</p> + + <p>The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds</p> + + <p>Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state,</p> + + <p>And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks,</p> + + <p>And of Achilles towering in the strife.</p> + + <p>Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song</p> + + <p>The Muse accords me, even all my store!</p> + + <p>The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + Love Avenged + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one</p> + + <p class="i2">Whose mood was froward as her face was + fair.</p> + + <p>Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none:</p> + + <p class="i2">Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he + bare</p> + + <p>A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart:</p> + + <p>Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So he found naught his furnace to allay;</p> + + <p class="i2">No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind + eyes,</p> + + <p>Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play</p> + + <p class="i2">Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are + shy</p> + + <p>Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she;</p> + + <p>Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face,</p> + + <p class="i2">That flushed, then altering put on blank + disdain.</p> + + <p>Yet, even then, her anger had its grace,</p> + + <p class="i2">And made her lover fall in love again.</p> + + <p>At last, unable to endure his flame,</p> + + <p>To the fell threshold all in tears he came:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said:</p> + + <p class="i2">"O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid</p> + + <p>Unworthy of all love, by lions bred,</p> + + <p class="i2">See, my last offering at thy feet is laid,</p> + + <p>The halter that shall hang me! So no more</p> + + <p>For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare.</p> + + <p class="i2">There is a path, that whoso treads hath + ease</p> + + <p>(Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there.</p> + + <p class="i2">But if I drain that chalice to the lees,</p> + + <p>I may not quench the love I have for you;</p> + + <p>Now at your gates I cast my long adieu.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Your future I foresee. The rose is gay,</p> + + <p class="i2">And passing-sweet the violet of the spring:</p> + + <p>Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay.</p> + + <p class="i2">The lily droops and dies, that lustrous + thing;</p> + + <p>The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast;</p> + + <p>And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The time shall come, when you shall feel as I;</p> + + <p class="i2">And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter + tear.</p> + + <p>But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy.</p> + + <p class="i2">When you come forth, and see me hanging + here,</p> + + <p>E'en at your door, forget not my hard case;</p> + + <p>But pause and weep me for a moment's space.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall,</p> + + <p>That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me—let the dead</p> + + <p class="i2">Be privileged thus highly—last of + all.</p> + + <p>You need not fear me: not if your disdain</p> + + <p>Changed into fondness could I live again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me:</p> + + <p class="i2">And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no + more:'</p> + + <p>Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;'</p> + + <p class="i2">And write this epitaph, scratched upon your + door:</p> + + <p><i>Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until</i></p> + + <p><i>Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him + ill</i>.'"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone</p> + + <p class="i2">At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he + laid,</p> + + <p>And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown,</p> + + <p class="i2">And his neck noosed. In air the body + swayed,</p> + + <p>Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more</p> + + <p>The maid, and saw him hanging at her door.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear</p> + + <p class="i2">She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to + soil,</p> + + <p>By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear.</p> + + <p class="i2">But on she went to watch the athletes' + toil,</p> + + <p>Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside:</p> + + <p>And there she met the god she had defied.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For on a marble pedestal Eros stood</p> + + <p class="i2">Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and + smote</p> + + <p>And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood;</p> + + <p class="i2">And to the top a girl's cry seemed to + float.</p> + + <p>Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell;</p> + + <p>And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIV.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Infant Heracles. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Alcmena once had washed and given the + breast</p> + + <p>To Heracles, a babe of ten months old,</p> + + <p>And Iphicles his junior by a night;</p> + + <p>And cradled both within a brazen shield,</p> + + <p>A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst</p> + + <p>Had stript from Ptereläus fall'n in fight.</p> + + <p>She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious + sleep,</p> + + <p>Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life:</p> + + <p>Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">She spake and rocked the shield; and in his + arms</p> + + <p>Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear</p> + + <p>Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front</p> + + <p>Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent,</p> + + <p>Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things,</p> + + <p>Snakes with their scales of azure all on end,</p> + + <p>To the broad portal of the chamber-door,</p> + + <p>All to devour the infant Heracles.</p> + + <p>They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor,</p> + + <p>Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light</p> + + <p>Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth.</p> + + <p>But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot,</p> + + <p>Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all)</p> + + <p>Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light.</p> + + <p>Then Iphicles—so soon as he descried</p> + + <p>The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield,</p> + + <p>And saw their merciless fangs—cried lustily,</p> + + <p>And kicked away his coverlet of down,</p> + + <p>Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung</p> + + <p>Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp</p> + + <p>Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat,</p> + + <p>The deadly snake's laboratory, where</p> + + <p>He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors.</p> + + <p>They twined and twisted round the babe that, born</p> + + <p>After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear</p> + + <p>E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold,</p> + + <p>For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard,</p> + + <p>While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on + me.</p> + + <p>Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet.</p> + + <p>Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries?</p> + + <p>Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night,</p> + + <p>But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know,</p> + + <p>Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening + here."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">She spake; and he, upleaping at her call,</p> + + <p>Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device</p> + + <p>That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch:</p> + + <p>And he was reaching at his span-new belt,</p> + + <p>The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood)</p> + + <p>Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night</p> + + <p>Spread out her hands, and all was dark again.</p> + + <p>Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep:</p> + + <p>"Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth:</p> + + <p>And force with all your strength the doorbolts back!</p> + + <p>Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Forth came at once the slaves with lighted + lamps.</p> + + <p>The house was all astir with hurrying feet.</p> + + <p>But when they saw the suckling Heracles</p> + + <p>With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands,</p> + + <p>They shouted with one voice. But he must show</p> + + <p>The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft</p> + + <p>His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid</p> + + <p>At his sire's feet the monsters still in death.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then did Alcmena to her bosom take</p> + + <p>The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles:</p> + + <p>Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt,</p> + + <p>Her lord once more bethought him of his rest.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was + e'er.</p> + + <p>Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing</p> + + <p>To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth,</p> + + <p>And bade him rede her what the end should be:—</p> + + <p>'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not,</p> + + <p>Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid</p> + + <p>The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins.</p> + + <p>Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus spake the queen, and thus he made + reply:</p> + + <p>"Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart;</p> + + <p>And look but on the fairer side of things.</p> + + <p>For by the precious light that long ago</p> + + <p>Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft</p> + + <p>Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high</p> + + <p>They mould the silken yarn upon their lap,</p> + + <p>Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou</p> + + <p>Of women. Such a man in this thy son</p> + + <p>Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven:</p> + + <p>His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord</p> + + <p>Of all the forest beasts and all mankind.</p> + + <p>Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus;</p> + + <p>His flesh given over to Trachinian fires;</p> + + <p>And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods</p> + + <p>Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe.</p> + + <p>Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch</p> + + <p>In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth</p> + + <p>That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep</p> + + <p>Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles</p> + + <p>Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze</p> + + <p>Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind:</p> + + <p>And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes</p> + + <p>At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe.</p> + + <p>And let at dawn some handmaid gather up</p> + + <p>The ashes of the fire, and diligently</p> + + <p>Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream</p> + + <p>Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return</p> + + <p>Nor look behind. And purify your home</p> + + <p>First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then,</p> + + <p>(Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,)</p> + + <p>Innocuous water, and the customed salt.</p> + + <p>Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar:</p> + + <p>So shall ye vanquish all your enemies."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his + years</p> + + <p>Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car.</p> + + <p>And Heracles as some young orchard-tree</p> + + <p>Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire.</p> + + <p>Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child,</p> + + <p>A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp.</p> + + <p>Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell,</p> + + <p>The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man</p> + + <p>By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er,</p> + + <p>Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they</p> + + <p>Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art,</p> + + <p>Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore</p> + + <p>Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son:</p> + + <p>Whom no man might behold while yet far off</p> + + <p>And wait his armed onset undismayed:</p> + + <p>A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face.</p> + + <p>To launch, and steer in safety round the goal,</p> + + <p>Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel,</p> + + <p>This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self.</p> + + <p>Many a fair prize from listed warriors he</p> + + <p>Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car</p> + + <p>Whereon he sat came still unshattered home,</p> + + <p>What gaps were in his harness time had made.</p> + + <p>Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe</p> + + <p>Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword;</p> + + <p>Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade,</p> + + <p>Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers;</p> + + <p>This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled</p> + + <p>From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth</p> + + <p>Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received</p> + + <p>Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand.</p> + + <p>Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match</p> + + <p>Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such tutors this fond mother gave her son.</p> + + <p>The stripling's bed was at his father's side,</p> + + <p>One after his own heart, a lion's skin.</p> + + <p>His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled</p> + + <p>A Dorian basket, you might soothly say</p> + + <p>Had satisfied a delver; and to close</p> + + <p>The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal.</p> + + <p>A simple frock went halfway down his leg:</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 45%;"> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXV"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXV.</h2><br> + + <center> + Heracles the Lion Slayer. + </center> + <hr style="width: 45%;"> + <br> + <br> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">To whom thus spake the herdsman of the + herd,</p> + + <p>Pausing a moment from his handiwork:</p> + + <p>"Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear</p> + + <p>The angry looks of Hermes of the roads.</p> + + <p>No dweller in the skies is wroth as he,</p> + + <p>With him who saith the asking traveller nay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"The flocks Augéas owns, our gracious + lord,</p> + + <p>One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds.</p> + + <p>They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks</p> + + <p>Or god-beloved Alphéus' sacred stream,</p> + + <p>Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds,</p> + + <p>Some here: their folds stand separate. But before</p> + + <p>His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades</p> + + <p>That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair</p> + + <p>For ever: for the low-lying meadows take</p> + + <p>The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet,</p> + + <p>To lend new vigour to the hornèd kine.</p> + + <p>Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry</p> + + <p>By the flowing river, for all eyes to see:</p> + + <p>Here, where the platans blossom all the year,</p> + + <p>And glimmers green the olive that enshrines</p> + + <p>Rural Apollo, most august of gods.</p> + + <p>Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us</p> + + <p>His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main</p> + + <p>His riches that are more than tongue may tell:</p> + + <p>Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd</p> + + <p>Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof</p> + + <p>Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet</p> + + <p>Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time.</p> + + <p>Yea, all these acres wise Augéas owns,</p> + + <p>These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green,</p> + + <p>Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap.</p> + + <p>Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont</p> + + <p>Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day.</p> + + <p>But prythee tell me thou—so shalt thou best</p> + + <p>Serve thine own interests—wherefore art thou + here?</p> + + <p>Seeking Augéas, or mayhap some slave</p> + + <p>That serves him? I can tell thee and I will</p> + + <p>All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood</p> + + <p>Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl:</p> + + <p>That read I in thy stateliness of form;</p> + + <p>The sons of heaven move thus among mankind."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus.</p> + + <p>"Yea, veteran, I would see the Epéan King</p> + + <p>Augéas; surely for this end I came.</p> + + <p>If he bides there amongst his citizens,</p> + + <p>Ruling the folk, determining the laws,</p> + + <p>Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide,</p> + + <p>Some honoured master-worker in the fields,</p> + + <p>Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply.</p> + + <p>Are not we made dependent each on each?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">To him the good old swain made answer thus:</p> + + <p>"Stranger, some god hath timed thy visit here,</p> + + <p>And given thee straightway all thy heart's desire.</p> + + <p>Hither Augéas, offspring of the Sun,</p> + + <p>Came, with young Phyleus splendid in his strength,</p> + + <p>But yesterday from the city, to review</p> + + <p>(Not in one day) his multitudinous wealth,</p> + + <p>Methinks e'en princes say within themselves,</p> + + <p>'The safeguard of the flock's the master's eye.'</p> + + <p>But haste, we'll seek him: to my own fold I</p> + + <p>Will pilot thee; there haply find the King."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He said and went in front: but pondered + much</p> + + <p>(As he surveyed the lion-skin and the club,</p> + + <p>Itself an armful) whence this stranger came;</p> + + <p>And fain had asked. But fear recalled the words</p> + + <p>That trembled on his lip, the fear to say</p> + + <p>Aught that his fiery friend might take amiss.</p> + + <p>For who can fathom all his fellow's mind?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">The dogs perceived their coming, yet far + off:</p> + + <p>They scented flesh, they heard the thud of feet:</p> + + <p>And with wild gallop, baying furiously,</p> + + <p>Ran at Amphitryon's son: but feebly whined</p> + + <p>And fawned upon the old man at his side.</p> + + <p>Then Heracles, just lifting from the ground</p> + + <p>A pebble, scared them home, and with hard words</p> + + <p>Cursed the whole pack; and having stopped their din</p> + + <p>(Inly rejoiced, nathless, to see them guard</p> + + <p>So well an absent master's house) he spake:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Lo! what a friend the royal gods have + given</p> + + <p>Man in the dog! A trusty servant he!</p> + + <p>Had he withal an understanding heart,</p> + + <p>To teach him when to rage and when forbear,</p> + + <p>What brute could claim like praise? But, lacking wit,</p> + + <p>'Tis but a passionate random-raving thing."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">He spake: the dogs ran scurrying to their + lairs.</p> + + <p>And now the sun wheeled round his westering car</p> + + <p>And led still evening on: from every field</p> + + <p>Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre.</p> + + <p>Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine</p> + + <p>Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven</p> + + <p>By stress of gales, the west or mighty north,</p> + + <p>Come up o'er all the heaven; and none may count</p> + + <p>And naught may stay them as they sweep through air;</p> + + <p>Such multitudes the storm's strength drives ahead,</p> + + <p>Such multitudes climb surging in the rear—</p> + + <p>So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove,</p> + + <p>And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed</p> + + <p>With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas</p> + + <p>Rang with their lowing. Soon enough the stalls</p> + + <p>Were populous with the laggard-footed kine,</p> + + <p>Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds.</p> + + <p>Then of that legion none stood idle, none</p> + + <p>Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do:</p> + + <p>But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs</p> + + <p>Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet:</p> + + <p>One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved,</p> + + <p>The longing young ones to the longing dams.</p> + + <p>One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese,</p> + + <p>Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine.</p> + + <p>Pacing from stall to stall, Augéas saw</p> + + <p>What revenue his herdsman brought him in.</p> + + <p>With him his son surveyed the royal wealth,</p> + + <p>And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles.</p> + + <p>Then, though the heart within him was as steel,</p> + + <p>Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon's son</p> + + <p>Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine;</p> + + <p>For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten,</p> + + <p>Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes:</p> + + <p>Such huge largess the Sun had given his child,</p> + + <p>First of mankind for multitude of flocks.</p> + + <p>The Sun himself gave increase day by day</p> + + <p>To his child's herds: whatever diseases spoil</p> + + <p>The farmer, came not there; his kine increased</p> + + <p>In multitude and value year by year:</p> + + <p>None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males.</p> + + <p>Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned,</p> + + <p>Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans,</p> + + <p>Sires of a race to be: and twelve besides</p> + + <p>Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun.</p> + + <p>Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved</p> + + <p>Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot.</p> + + <p>Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain</p> + + <p>They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields:</p> + + <p>And when from the dense jungle to the plain</p> + + <p>Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows;</p> + + <p>Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war.</p> + + <p>Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death,</p> + + <p>Foremost of all for mettle and for might</p> + + <p>And pride of heart loomed Phaeton: him the swains</p> + + <p>Regarded as a star; so bright he shone</p> + + <p>Among the herd, the cynosure of eyes.</p> + + <p>He, soon as he descried the sun-dried skin</p> + + <p>Of the grim lion, made at Heracles</p> + + <p>(Whose eye was on him)—fain to make his crest</p> + + <p>And sturdy brow acquainted with his flanks.</p> + + <p>Straight the prince grasped him with no tender grasp</p> + + <p>By the left horn, and bowed that giant bulk</p> + + <p>To earth, neck foremost: then, by pressure brought</p> + + <p>To bear upon his shoulder, forced him back.</p> + + <p>The web of muscles that enwraps the nerves</p> + + <p>Stood out from the brute's fore-arm plain to see.</p> + + <p>Marvelled the King, and Phyleus his brave son,</p> + + <p>At the strange prowess of Amphitryon's child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Then townwards, leaving straight that rich + champaign,</p> + + <p>Stout Heracles his comrade, Phyleus fared;</p> + + <p>And soon as they had gained the paven road,</p> + + <p>Making their way hotfooted o'er a path</p> + + <p>(Not o'er-conspicuous in the dim green wood)</p> + + <p>That left the farm and threaded through the vines,</p> + + <p>Out-spake unto the child of Zeus most high,</p> + + <p>Who followed in his steps, Augéas' son,</p> + + <p>O'er his right shoulder glancing pleasantly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"O stranger, as some old familiar tale</p> + + <p>I seem to cast thy history in my mind.</p> + + <p>For there came one to Argos, young and tall,</p> + + <p>By birth a Greek from Helicè-on-seas,</p> + + <p>Who told this tale before a multitude:</p> + + <p>How that an Argive in his presence slew</p> + + <p>A fearful lion-beast, the dread and death</p> + + <p>Of herdsmen; which inhabited a den</p> + + <p>Or cavern by the grove of Nemean Zeus.</p> + + <p>He may have come from sacred Argos' self,</p> + + <p>Or Tiryns, or Mycenæ: what know I?</p> + + <p>But thus he told his tale, and said the slayer</p> + + <p>Was (if my memory serves me) Perseus' son.</p> + + <p>Methinks no islander had dared that deed</p> + + <p>Save thee: the lion's skin that wraps thy ribs</p> + + <p>Argues full well some gallant feat of arms.</p> + + <p>But tell me, warrior, first—that I may know</p> + + <p>If my prophetic soul speak truth or not—</p> + + <p>Art thou the man of whom that stranger Greek</p> + + <p>Spoke in my hearing? Have I guessed aright?</p> + + <p>How slew you single-handed that fell beast?</p> + + <p>How came it among rivered Nemea's glens?</p> + + <p>For none such monster could the eagerest eye</p> + + <p>Find in all Greece: Greece harbours bear and boar,</p> + + <p>And deadly wolf: but not this larger game.</p> + + <p>'Twas this that made his listeners marvel then:</p> + + <p>They deemed he told them travellers' tales, to win</p> + + <p>By random words applause from standers-by."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then Phyleus from the mid-road edged away,</p> + + <p>That both might walk abreast, and he might catch</p> + + <p>More at his ease what fell from Heracles:</p> + + <p>Who journeying now alongside thus began:—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"On the prior matter, O Augéas' + child,</p> + + <p>Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright.</p> + + <p>But all that monster's history, how it fell,</p> + + <p>Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear,</p> + + <p>Save only whence it came: for none of all</p> + + <p>The Argive host could read that riddle right.</p> + + <p>Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows</p> + + <p>Resenting, had upon Phoroneus' realm</p> + + <p>Let loose this very scourge of humankind.</p> + + <p>On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood</p> + + <p>The brute ran riot: notably it cost</p> + + <p>Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold.</p> + + <p>And here Eurystheus bade me try my first</p> + + <p>Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing.</p> + + <p>So with my buxom bow and quiver lined</p> + + <p>With arrows I set forth: my left hand held</p> + + <p>My club, a beetling olive's stalwart trunk</p> + + <p>And shapely, still environed in its bark:</p> + + <p>This hand had torn from holiest Helicon</p> + + <p>The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots.</p> + + <p>And finding soon the lion's whereabouts,</p> + + <p>I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped</p> + + <p>The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death.</p> + + <p>And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing,</p> + + <p>In hopes to view him ere he spied out me.</p> + + <p>But midday came, and nowhere could I see</p> + + <p>One footprint of the beast or hear his roar:</p> + + <p>And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask,</p> + + <p>Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea;</p> + + <p>For wan dismay kept each man in his hut.</p> + + <p>Still on I footed, searching through and through</p> + + <p>The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw</p> + + <p>The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength.</p> + + <p>Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked</p> + + <p>At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane,</p> + + <p>Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip</p> + + <p>With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips.</p> + + <p>I, crouched among the shadows of the trees</p> + + <p>On the green hill-top, waited his approach,</p> + + <p>And as he came I aimed at his left flank.</p> + + <p>The barbèd shaft sped idly, nor could pierce</p> + + <p>The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass.</p> + + <p>He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head,</p> + + <p>And ran his eyes o'er all the vicinage,</p> + + <p>And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat.</p> + + <p>Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft,</p> + + <p>Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain.</p> + + <p>In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs</p> + + <p>Are seated: still the arrow sank not in,</p> + + <p>But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet.</p> + + <p>Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined,</p> + + <p>To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast</p> + + <p>Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides</p> + + <p>With his huge tail, and opened war at once.</p> + + <p>Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end</p> + + <p>With rage: his spine moved sinuous as a bow,</p> + + <p>Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin.</p> + + <p>And e'en as, when a chariot-builder bends</p> + + <p>With practised skill his shafts of splintered fig,</p> + + <p>Hot from the fire, to be his axle-wheels;</p> + + <p>Flies the tough-rinded sapling from the hands</p> + + <p>That shape it, at a bound recoiling far:</p> + + <p>So from far-off the dread beast, all of a heap,</p> + + <p>Sprang on me, hungering for my life-blood. I</p> + + <p>Thrust with one hand my arrows in his face</p> + + <p>And my doffed doublet, while the other raised</p> + + <p>My seasoned cudgel o'er his crest, and drave</p> + + <p>Full at his temples, breaking clean in twain</p> + + <p>On the fourfooted warrior's airy scalp</p> + + <p>My club; and ere he reached me, down he fell.</p> + + <p>Headlong he fell, and poised on tremulous feet</p> + + <p>Stood, his head wagging, and his eyes grown dim;</p> + + <p>For the shrewd stroke had shattered brain and bone.</p> + + <p>I, marking him beside himself with pain.</p> + + <p>Fell, ere recovering he should breathe again,</p> + + <p>At vantage on his solid sinewy neck,</p> + + <p>My bow and woven quiver thrown aside.</p> + + <p>With iron clasp I gripped him from the rear</p> + + <p>(His talons else had torn me) and, my foot</p> + + <p>Set on him, forced to earth by dint of heel</p> + + <p>His hinder parts, my flanks entrenched the while</p> + + <p>Behind his fore-arm; till his thews were stretched</p> + + <p>And strained, and on his haunches stark he stood</p> + + <p>And lifeless; hell received his monstrous ghost.</p> + + <p>Then with myself I counselled how to strip</p> + + <p>From off the dead beast's limbs his shaggy hide,</p> + + <p>A task full onerous, since I found it proof</p> + + <p>Against all blows of steel or stone or wood.</p> + + <p>Some god at last inspired me with the thought,</p> + + <p>With his own claws to rend the lion's skin.</p> + + <p>With these I flayed him soon, and sheathed and armed</p> + + <p>My limbs against the shocks of murderous war.</p> + + <p>Thus, sir, the Nemean lion met his end,</p> + + <p>Erewhile the constant curse of beast and man."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVI.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Bacchanals. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Agavè of the vermeil-tinted cheek</p> + + <p class="i4">And Ino and Autonoä marshalled erst</p> + + <p class="i2">Three bands of revellers under one + hill-peak.</p> + + <p class="i4">They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage + first,</p> + + <p class="i2">Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel;</p> + + <p>And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden + fell:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">To Semelè three, to Dionysus nine.</p> + + <p class="i4">Next, from a vase drew offerings subtly + wrought,</p> + + <p class="i2">And prayed and placed them on each fresh green + shrine;</p> + + <p class="i4">So by the god, who loved such tribute, + taught.</p> + + <p class="i2">Perched on the sheer cliff, Pentheus could + espy</p> + + <p>All, in a mastick hoar ensconced that grew thereby.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Autonoä marked him, and with, frightful cries</p> + + <p class="i4">Flew to make havoc of those mysteries weird</p> + + <p class="i2">That must not be profaned by vulgar eyes.</p> + + <p class="i4">Her frenzy frenzied all. Then Pentheus + feared</p> + + <p class="i2">And fled: and in his wake those damsels + three,</p> + + <p>Each with her trailing robe up-gathered to the knee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"What will ye, dames," quoth Pentheus. "Thou + shalt guess</p> + + <p class="i4">At what we mean, untold," Autonoä + said.</p> + + <p class="i2">Agavè moaned—so moans a + lioness</p> + + <p class="i4">Over her young one—as she clutched his + head:</p> + + <p class="i2">While Ino on the carcass fairly laid</p> + + <p>Her heel, and wrenched away shoulder and + shoulder-blade.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Autonoä's turn came next: and what + remained</p> + + <p class="i4">Of flesh their damsels did among them + share,</p> + + <p class="i2">And back to Thebes they came all + carnage-stained,</p> + + <p class="i4">And planted not a king but aching there.</p> + + <p class="i2">Warned by this tale, let no man dare defy</p> + + <p>Great Bacchus; lest a death more awful he should die,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">And when he counts nine years or scarcely + ten,</p> + + <p class="i4">Rush to his ruin. May I pass my days</p> + + <p>Uprightly, and be loved of upright men!</p> + + <p class="i4">And take this motto, all who covet praise:</p> + + <p class="i2">('Twas Ægis-bearing Zeus that spake it + first:)</p> + + <p>'The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Now bless ye Bacchus, whom on mountain + snows,</p> + + <p class="i4">Prisoned in his thigh till then, the Almighty + laid.</p> + + <p class="i2">And bless ye fairfaced Semelè, and + those</p> + + <p class="i4">Her sisters, hymned of many a hero-maid,</p> + + <p class="i2">Who wrought, by Bacchus fired, a deed which + none</p> + + <p>May gainsay—who shall blame that which a god hath + done?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVII.</h2><br> + + <center> + A Countryman's Wooing. + </center> + + <center> + <i>DAPHNIS. A MAIDEN</i>. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>How fell sage Helen? through a swain like thee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay the true Helen's just now kissing me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Satyr, ne'er boast: 'what's idler than a kiss?'</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Yet in such pleasant idling there is bliss.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>I'll wash my mouth: where go thy kisses then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Wash, and return it—to be kissed again.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Go kiss your oxen, and not unwed maids.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Ne'er boast; for beauty is a dream that fades.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Past grapes are grapes: dead roses keep their smell.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Come to yon olives: I have a tale to tell.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Not I: you fooled me with smooth words before.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Come to yon elms, and hear me pipe once more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Pipe to yourself: your piping makes me cry.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>A maid, and flout the Paphian? Fie, oh fie!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>She's naught to me, if Artemis' favour last.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Hush, ere she smite you and entrap you fast.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And let her smite me, trap me as she will!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Your Artemis shall be your saviour still?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Unhand me! What, again? I'll tear your lip.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Can you, could damsel e'er, give Love the slip?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>You are his bondslave, but not I by Pan!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I doubt he'll give thee to a worser man.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Many have wooed me, but I fancied none.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Till among many came the destined <i>one</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Wedlock is woe. Dear lad, what can I do?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Woe it is not, but joy and dancing too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Wives dread their husbands: so I've heard it said.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay, they rule o'er them. What does woman dread?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Then children—Eileithya's dart is keen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>But the deliverer, Artemis, is your queen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And bearing children all our grace destroys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Bear them and shine more lustrous in your boys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Should I say yea, what dower awaits me then?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Thine are my cattle, thine this glade and glen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Swear not to wed, then leave me in my woe?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Not I by Pan, though thou should'st bid me go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And shall a cot be mine, with farm and fold!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Thy cot's half-built, fair wethers range this wold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>What, what to my old father must I say?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Soon as he hears my name he'll not say nay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Speak it: by e'en a name we're oft beguiled.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I'm Daphnis, Lycid's and Nomæa's child.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Well-born indeed: and not less so am I.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>I know—Menalcas' daughter may look high.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>That grove, where stands your sheepfold, shew me + please.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Nay look, how green, how tall my cypress-trees.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Graze, goats: I go to learn the herdsman's trade.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Feed, bulls: I shew my copses to my maid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Satyr, what mean you? You presume o'ermuch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This waist is round, and pleasant to the touch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>By Pan, I'm like to swoon! Unhand me pray!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Why be so timorous? Pretty coward, stay.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>This bank is wet: you've soiled my pretty gown.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>See, a soft fleece to guard it I put down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>And you've purloined my sash. What can this mean?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>This sash I'll offer to the Paphian queen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Stay, miscreant—some one comes—I heard a + noise.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>'Tis but the green trees whispering of our joys.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>You've torn my plaidie, and I am half unclad.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Anon I'll give thee a yet ampler plaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Generous just now, you'll one day grudge me bread.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Ah! for thy sake my life-blood I could shed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>Artemis, forgive! Thy eremite breaks her vow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Love, and Love's mother, claim a calf and cow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>THE MAIDEN.</p> + + <p>A woman I depart, my girlhood o'er.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DAPHNIS.</p> + + <p>Be wife, be mother; but a girl no more.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Thus interchanging whispered talk the pair,</p> + + <p>Their faces all aglow, long lingered there.</p> + + <p>At length the hour arrived when they must part.</p> + + <p>With downcast eyes, but sunshine in her heart,</p> + + <p>She went to tend her flock; while Daphnis ran</p> + + <p>Back to his herded bulls, a happy man.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXVIII"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXVIII.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Distaff. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's + gift</p> + + <p>To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household + thrift,</p> + + <p>Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a + plain</p> + + <p>Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphroditè's + hallowed fane.</p> + + <p>Thither ask I Zeus to waft me, fain to see my old friend's + face,</p> + + <p>Nicias, o'er whose birth presided every passion-breathing + Grace;</p> + + <p>Fain to meet his answering welcome; and anon deposit + thee</p> + + <p>In his lady's hands, thou marvel of laborious ivory.</p> + + <p>Many a manly robe ye'll fashion, much translucent maiden's + gear;</p> + + <p>Nay, should e'er the fleecy mothers twice within the + selfsame year</p> + + <p>Yield their wool in yonder pasture, Theugenis of the + dainty feet</p> + + <p>Would perform the double labour: matron's cares to her are + sweet.</p> + + <p>To an idler or a trifler I had verily been loth</p> + + <p>To resign thee, O my distaff, for the same land bred us + both:</p> + + <p>In the land Corinthian Archias built aforetime, thou hadst + birth,</p> + + <p>In our island's core and marrow, whence have sprung the + kings of earth:</p> + + <p>To the home I now transfer thee of a man who knows full + well</p> + + <p>Every craft whereby men's bodies dire diseases may + repel:</p> + + <p>There to live in sweet Miletus. Lady of the Distaff + she</p> + + <p>Shall be named, and oft reminded of her poet-friend by + thee:</p> + + <p>Men shall look on thee and murmur to each other, 'Lo! how + small</p> + + <p>Was the gift, and yet how precious! Friendship's gifts are + priceless all.'</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXIX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXIX.</h2><br> + + <center> + Loves. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>'Sincerity comes with the wine-cup,' my dear:</p> + + <p>Then now o'er our wine-cups let us be sincere.</p> + + <p>My soul's treasured secret to you I'll impart;</p> + + <p>It is this; that I never won fairly your heart.</p> + + <p>One half of my life, I am conscious, has flown;</p> + + <p>The residue lives on your image alone.</p> + + <p>You are kind, and I dream I'm in paradise then;</p> + + <p>You are angry, and lo! all is darkness again.</p> + + <p>It is right to torment one who loves you? Obey</p> + + <p>Your elder; 'twere best; and you'll thank me one day.</p> + + <p>Settle down in one nest on one tree (taking care</p> + + <p>That no cruel reptile can clamber up there);</p> + + <p>As it is with your lovers you're fairly perplext;</p> + + <p>One day you choose one bough, another the next.</p> + + <p>Whoe'er at all struck by your graces appears,</p> + + <p>Is more to you straight than the comrade of years;</p> + + <p>While he's like the friend of a day put aside;</p> + + <p>For the breath of your nostrils, I think, is your + pride.</p> + + <p>Form a friendship, for life, with some likely young + lad;</p> + + <p>So doing, in honour your name shall be had.</p> + + <p>Nor would Love use you hardly; though lightly can he</p> + + <p>Bind strong men in chains, and has wrought upon me</p> + + <p>Till the steel is as wax—but I'm longing to + press</p> + + <p>That exquisite mouth with a clinging caress.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">No? Reflect that you're older each year than + the last;</p> + + <p>That we all must grow gray, and the wrinkles come + fast.</p> + + <p>Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides</p> + + <p>Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides:</p> + + <p>Nor are men over keen to catch charms as they fly.</p> + + <p>Think of this and be gentle, be loving as I:</p> + + <p>When your years are maturer, we two shall be then</p> + + <p>The pair in the Iliad over again.</p> + + <p>But if you consign all my words to the wind</p> + + <p>And say, 'Why annoy me? you're not to my mind,'</p> + + <p>I—who lately in quest of the Gold Fruit had sped</p> + + <p>For your sake, or of Cerberus guard of the dead—</p> + + <p>Though you called me, would ne'er stir a foot from my + door,</p> + + <p>For my love and my sorrow thenceforth will be o'er.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXX"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXX.</h2><br> + + <center> + The Death of Adonis. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Cythera saw Adonis</p> + + <p class="i2">And knew that he was dead;</p> + + <p>She marked the brow, all grisly now,</p> + + <p class="i2">The cheek no longer red;</p> + + <p>And "Bring the boar before me"</p> + + <p class="i2">Unto her Loves she said.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Forthwith her winged attendants</p> + + <p class="i2">Ranged all the woodland o'er,</p> + + <p>And found and bound in fetters</p> + + <p class="i2">Threefold the grisly boar:</p> + + <p>One dragged him at a rope's end</p> + + <p class="i2">E'en as a vanquished foe;</p> + + <p>One went behind and drave him</p> + + <p class="i2">And smote him with his bow:</p> + + <p>On paced the creature feebly;</p> + + <p class="i2">He feared Cythera so.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>To him said Aphroditè:</p> + + <p class="i2">"So, worst of beasts, 'twas you</p> + + <p>Who rent that thigh asunder,</p> + + <p class="i2">Who him that loved me slew?"</p> + + <p>And thus the beast made answer:</p> + + <p class="i2">"Cythera, hear me swear</p> + + <p>By thee, by him that loved thee,</p> + + <p class="i2">And by these bonds I wear,</p> + + <p>And them before whose hounds I ran—</p> + + <p>I meant no mischief to the man</p> + + <p class="i2">Who seemed to thee so fair.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"As on a carven statue</p> + + <p class="i2">Men gaze, I gazed on him;</p> + + <p>I seemed on fire with mad desire</p> + + <p class="i2">To kiss that offered limb:</p> + + <p>My ruin, Aphroditè,</p> + + <p class="i2">Thus followed from my whim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Now therefore take and punish</p> + + <p class="i2">And fairly cut away</p> + + <p>These all unruly tusks of mine;</p> + + <p class="i2">For to what end serve they?</p> + + <p>And if thine indignation</p> + + <p class="i2">Be not content with this,</p> + + <p>Cut off the mouth that ventured</p> + + <p class="i2">To offer him a kiss"—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But Aphroditè pitied</p> + + <p class="i2">And bade them loose his chain.</p> + + <p>The boar from that day forward</p> + + <p class="i2">Still followed in her train;</p> + + <p>Nor ever to the wildwood</p> + + <p class="i2">Attempted to return,</p> + + <p>But in the focus of Desire</p> + + <p class="i2">Preferred to burn and burn.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="IDYLL_XXXI"></a> + + <h2>IDYLL XXXI.</h2><br> + + <center> + Loves. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills!</p> + + <p>Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom + fills.</p> + + <p>Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest + swain</p> + + <p>Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in + vain.</p> + + <p>Yet doth now this thing of evil my longsuffering heart + beguile,</p> + + <p>Though the utmost she vouchsafes me is the shadow of a + smile:</p> + + <p>And I soon shall know no respite, have no solace e'en in + sleep.</p> + + <p>Yesterday I watched her pass me, and from down-dropt + eyelids peep</p> + + <p>At the face she dared not gaze on—every moment + blushing more—</p> + + <p>And my love took hold upon me as it never took before.</p> + + <p>Home I went a wounded creature, with a gnawing at my + heart;</p> + + <p>And unto the soul within me did my bitterness impart.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">"Soul, why deal with me in this wise? Shall thy + folly know no bound?</p> + + <p>Canst thou look upon these temples, with their locks of + silver crowned,</p> + + <p>And still deem thee young and shapely? Nay, my soul, let + us be sage;</p> + + <p>Act as they that have already sipped the wisdom-cup of + age.</p> + + <p>Men have loved and have forgotten. Happiest of all is + he</p> + + <p>To the lover's woes a stranger, from the lover's fetters + free:</p> + + <p>Lightly his existence passes, as a wild-deer fleeting + fast:</p> + + <p>Tamed, it may be, he shall voyage in a maiden's wake at + last:</p> + + <p>Still to-day 'tis his to revel with his mates in boyhood's + flowers.</p> + + <p>As to thee, thy brain and marrow passion evermore + devours,</p> + + <p>Prey to memories that haunt thee e'en in visions of the + night;</p> + + <p>And a year shall scarcely pluck thee from thy miserable + plight."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Such and divers such reproaches did I heap upon + my soul.</p> + + <p>And my soul in turn made answer:—"Whoso deems he can + control</p> + + <p>Wily love, the same shall lightly gaze upon the stars of + heaven</p> + + <p>And declare by what their number overpasses seven times + seven.</p> + + <p>Will I, nill I, I may never from my neck his yoke + unloose.</p> + + <p>So, my friend, a god hath willed it: he whose plots could + outwit Zeus,</p> + + <p>And the queen whose home is Cyprus. I, a leaflet of + to-day,</p> + + <p>I whose breath is in my nostrils, am I wrong to own his + sway?"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="FRAGMENT_PROM_THE_quotBERENICEquot"></a> + + <h2>FRAGMENT PROM THE "BERENICE."</h2><br> + <br> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal,</p> + + <p class="i2">For bare existence harrowing yonder mere,</p> + + <p>To this our Lady slay at even-fall</p> + + <p class="i2">That holy fish, which, since it hath no + peer</p> + + <p class="i2">For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about + here</p> + + <p>Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down</p> + + <p class="i2">Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear</p> + + <p>To find them empty * * * *</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr style="width: 65%;"> + <a name="EPIGRAMS_AND_EPITAPHS"></a> + + <h2>EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS.</h2><br> + + <h3><a name="EI"></a>I.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon</p> + + <p>Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon:</p> + + <p>Thine, Pythian Pæan, that dark-foliaged bay;</p> + + <p>With such thy Delphian crags thy front array.</p> + + <p>This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine,</p> + + <p>Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="II"></a>II.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>To Pan doth white-limbed Daphnis offer here</p> + + <p class="i2">(He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's + flute)</p> + + <p>His reeds of many a stop, his barbèd spear,</p> + + <p class="i2">And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of + fruit.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="III"></a>III.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p class="i2">Daphnis, thou slumberest on the leaf-strown + lea,</p> + + <p class="i4">Thy frame at rest, thy springes newly + spread</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the fell-side. But two are hunting + thee:</p> + + <p class="i4">Pan, and Priapus with his fair young head</p> + + <p class="i2">Hung with wan ivy. See! they come, they + leap</p> + + <p>Into thy lair—fly, fly,—shake off the coil of + sleep!</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="IV"></a>IV.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been + set:</p> + + <p>It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear;</p> + + <p class="i2">But I think there is life in the patriarch + yet.</p> + + <p>He is handsomely shrined within fair chapel-walls;</p> + + <p class="i2">Where, fringed with sweet cypress and myrtle + and bay,</p> + + <p>A stream ever-fresh from the rock's hollow falls,</p> + + <p class="i2">And the ringleted vine her ripe store doth + display:</p> + + <p>And the blackbirds, those shrill-piping songsters of + spring,</p> + + <p class="i2">Wake the echoes with wild inarticulate + song:</p> + + <p>And the notes of the nightingale plaintively ring,</p> + + <p class="i2">As she pours from her dun throat her lay sweet + and strong.</p> + + <p>Sitting there, to Priapus, the gracious one, pray</p> + + <p class="i2">That the lore he has taught me I soon may + unlearn:</p> + + <p>Say I'll give him a kid, and in case he says nay</p> + + <p class="i2">To this offer, three victims to him will I + burn;</p> + + <p>A kid, a fleeced ram, and a lamb sleek and fat;</p> + + <p>He will listen, mayhap, to my prayers upon that.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="V"></a>V.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Prythee, sing something sweet to me—you that can + play</p> + + <p>First and second at once. Then I too will essay</p> + + <p>To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute</p> + + <p>Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute.</p> + + <p>In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep,</p> + + <p>And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="VI"></a>VI.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes?</p> + + <p class="i2">Thy kid was a fair one, I own:</p> + + <p>But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize,</p> + + <p class="i2">And to darkness her spirit hath flown.</p> + + <p>Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their + cries</p> + + <p class="i2">There is left of her never a bone.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <h3><a name="VII"></a>VII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of Æsculapius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Far as Miletus travelled Pæan's son;</p> + + <p>There to be guest of Nicias, guest of one</p> + + <p>Who heals all sickness; and who still reveres</p> + + <p>Him, for his sake this cedarn image rears.</p> + + <p>The sculptor's hand right well did Nicias fill;</p> + + <p>And here the sculptor lavished all his skill.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="VIII"></a>VIII.</h3> + + <center> + Ortho's Epitaph. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge:</p> + + <p>Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night.</p> + + <p>I did so and died. My possessions were large;</p> + + <p>Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me + quite.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="IX"></a>IX.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Cleonicus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea</p> + + <p class="i2">Out of season: our tenure of life is but + frail.</p> + + <p>Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he</p> + + <p class="i2">From the valleys of Syria, with many a + bale:</p> + + <p>With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem</p> + + <p class="i2">When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with + them.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="X"></a>X.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of the Muses. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>To you this marble statue, maids divine,</p> + + <p>Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine.</p> + + <p>Your votary all admit him: by this skill</p> + + <p>He gat him fame: and you he honours still.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XI"></a>XI.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Eusthenes. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies,</p> + + <p>Who could tell all your thoughts by a glance at your + eyes.</p> + + <p>A stranger, with strangers his honoured bones rest;</p> + + <p>They valued sweet song, and he gave them his best.</p> + + <p>All the honours of death doth the poet possess:</p> + + <p>If a small one, they mourned for him nevertheless.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XII"></a>XII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Tripod Erected by Damoteles to Bacchus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The precentor Damoteles, Bacchus, exalts</p> + + <p class="i2">Your tripod, and, sweetest of deities, you.</p> + + <p>He was champion of men, if his boyhood had faults;</p> + + <p class="i2">And he ever loved honour and seemliness + too.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIII"></a>XIII.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of Anacreon. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>This statue, stranger, scan with earnest gaze;</p> + + <p class="i2">And, home returning, say "I have beheld</p> + + <p>Anacreon, in Teos; him whose lays</p> + + <p class="i2">Were all unmatched among our sires of eld."</p> + + <p>Say further: "Youth and beauty pleased him best;"</p> + + <p class="i2">And all the man will fairly stand exprest.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIV"></a>XIV.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Eurymedon. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Thou hast gone to the grave, and abandoned thy son</p> + + <p>Yet a babe, thy own manhood but scarcely begun.</p> + + <p>Thou art throned among gods: and thy country will take</p> + + <p>Thy child to her heart, for his brave father's sake.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XV"></a>XV.</h3> + + <center> + Another. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave</p> + + <p>Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave,</p> + + <p>By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.'</p> + + <p>The turf should lie light on so sacred a head.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVI"></a>XVI.</h3> + + <center> + For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth;</p> + + <p>Not that base one who's wooed by the children of + earth.</p> + + <p>'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all,</p> + + <p>Chrysogonè, placed her in Amphicles' hall:</p> + + <p>Chrysogonè's heart, as her children, was his,</p> + + <p>And each year they knew better what happiness is.</p> + + <p>For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their + friend;</p> + + <p>Religion is policy too in the end.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVII"></a>XVII.</h3> + + <center> + To Epicharmus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was + he</p> + + <p class="i2">The sire of Comedy.</p> + + <p>Of his proper self bereavèd, Bacchus, unto thee we + rear</p> + + <p class="i2">His brazen image here;</p> + + <p>We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we + can</p> + + <p class="i2">Do for our countryman,</p> + + <p>Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample + store</p> + + <p class="i2">Of legendary lore,</p> + + <p>Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' + life, he spake:</p> + + <p class="i2">We honour him for their sake.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse</p> + + <p class="i2">This stone—inscribed <i>To + Cleita</i>—reared in the midhighway.</p> + + <p class="i2">Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse;</p> + + <p>Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this + day?</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XIX"></a>XIX.</h3> + + <center> + To Archilochus. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder + days,</p> + + <p class="i4">By east and west</p> + + <p class="i4">Alike's confest</p> + + <p class="i2">The mighty lyrist's praise.</p> + + <p>Delian Apollo loved him well, and well the + sister-choir:</p> + + <p class="i4">His songs were fraught</p> + + <p class="i4">With subtle thought,</p> + + <p class="i2">And matchless was his lyre.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XX"></a>XX.</h3> + + <center> + Under a Statue of Peisander, WHO WROTE THE LABOURS OF HERACLES. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>He whom ye gaze on was the first</p> + + <p>That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed</p> + + <p>Of him whose arm was swift to smite,</p> + + <p>Who dared the lion to the fight:</p> + + <p>That tale, so strange, so manifold,</p> + + <p>Peisander of Cameirus told.</p> + + <p>For this good work, thou may'st be sure,</p> + + <p class="i2">His country placed him here,</p> + + <p>In solid brass that shall endure</p> + + <p>Through many a month and year.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XXI"></a>XXI.</h3> + + <center> + Epitaph of Hipponax. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Behold Hipponax' burialplace,</p> + + <p class="i2">A true bard's grave.</p> + + <p>Approach it not, if you're a base</p> + + <p class="i2">And base-born knave.</p> + + <p>But if your sires were honest men</p> + + <p class="i2">And unblamed you,</p> + + <p>Sit down thereon serenely then,</p> + + <p class="i2">And eke sleep too.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Tuneful Hipponax rests him here.</p> + + <p>Let no base rascal venture near.</p> + + <p>Ye who rank high in birth and mind</p> + + <p>Sit down—and sleep, if so inclined.</p> + </div> + </div><br> + + <h3><a name="XXII"></a>XXII.</h3> + + <center> + On his own Book. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <br> + <br> + + <p>Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong</p> + + <p>To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song.</p> + + <p>I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair,</p> + + <p>And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere.</p> + </div> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + +***** This file should be named 11533-h.htm or 11533-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/3/11533/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. For example: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/11533.txt b/old/11533.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbee62f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5021 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Theocritus + +Author: Theocritus + +Release Date: March 10, 2004 [EBook #11533] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + +THEOCRITUS + +_TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE_. + +BY + +C.S. CALVERLEY, + +_LATE FELLOW OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE_. + +AUTHOR OF "FLY LEAVES," ETC. + +THIRD EDITION. + + + + +PREFACE. + +I had intended translating all or nearly all these Idylls into blank +verse, as the natural equivalent of Greek or of Latin hexameters; only +deviating into rhyme where occasion seemed to demand it. But I found +that other metres had their special advantages: the fourteen-syllable +line in particular has that, among others, of containing about the same +number of syllables as an ordinary line of Theocritus. And there is also +no doubt something gained by variety. + +Several recent writers on the subject have laid down that every +translation of Greek poetry, especially bucolic poetry, must be in rhyme +of some sort. But they have seldom stated, and it is hard to see, why. +There is no rhyme in the original, and _prima facie_ should be none in +the translation. Professor Blackie has, it is true, pointed out the +"assonances, alliterations, and rhymes," which are found in more or less +abundance in Ionic Greek.[A] These may of course be purely accidental, +like the hexameters in Livy or the blank-verse lines in Mr. Dickens's +prose: but accidental or not (it may be said) they are there, and ought +to be recognised. May we not then recognise them by introducing similar +assonances, etc., here and there into the English version? or by +availing ourselves of what Professor Blackie again calls attention to, +the "compensating powers"[B] of English? I think with him that it was +hard to speak of our language as one which "transforms _boos megaloio +boeien_ into 'great ox's hide.'" Such phrases as 'The Lord is a man of +war,' 'The trumpet spake not to the armed throng,' are to my ear quite +as grand as Homer: and it would be equally fair to ask what we are to +make of a language which transforms Milton's line into [Greek: e +shalpigx ohy proshephe ton hoplismhenon hochlon.][C] But be this as it +may, these phenomena are surely too rare and too arbitrary to be +adequately represented by any regularly recurring rhyme: and the +question remains, what is there in the unrhymed original to which rhyme +answers? + +To me its effect is to divide the verse into couplets, triplets, or (if +the word may include them all) _stanzas_ of some kind. Without rhyme we +have no apparent means of conveying the effect of stanzas. There are of +course devices such as repeating a line or part of a line at stated +intervals, as is done in 'Tears, idle tears' and elsewhere: but clearly +none of these would be available to a translator. Where therefore he has +to express stanzas, it is easy to see that rhyme may be admissible and +even necessary. Pope's couplet may (or may not) stand for elegiacs, and +the _In Memoriam_ stanza for some one of Horace's metres. Where the +heroes of Virgil's Eclogues sing alternately four lines each, Gray's +quatrain seems to suggest itself: and where a similar case occurs in +these Idylls (as for instance in the ninth) I thought it might be met by +taking whatever received English stanza was nearest the required length. +Pope's couplet again may possibly best convey the pomposity of some +Idylls and the point of others. And there may be divers considerations +of this kind. But, speaking generally, where the translator has not to +intimate stanzas--where he has on the contrary to intimate that there +are none--rhyme seems at first sight an intrusion and a _suggestio +falsi_. + +No doubt (as has been observed) what 'Pastorals' we have are mostly +written in what is called the heroic measure. But the reason is, I +suppose, not far to seek. Dryden and Pope wrote 'heroics,' not from any +sense of their fitness for bucolic poetry, but from a sense of their +universal fitness: and their followers copied them. But probably no +scholar would affirm that any poem, original or translated, by Pope or +Dryden or any of their school, really resembles in any degree the +bucolic poetry of the Greeks. Mr. Morris, whose poems appear to me to +resemble it more almost than anything I have ever seen, of course writes +what is technically Pope's metre, and equally of course is not of Pope's +school. Whether or no Pope and Dryden _intended_ to resemble the old +bucolic poets in style is, to say the least, immaterial. If they did +not, there is no reason whatever why any of us who do should adopt +their metre: if they did and failed, there is every reason why we should +select a different one. + +Professor Conington has adduced one cogent argument against blank verse: +that is, that hardly any of us can write it.[D] But if this is so--if +the 'blank verse' which we write is virtually prose in disguise--the +addition of rhyme would only make it rhymed prose, and we should be as +far as ever from "verse really deserving the name."[E] Unless (which I +can hardly imagine) the mere incident of 'terminal consonance' can +constitute that verse which would not be verse independently, this +argument is equally good against attempting verse of any kind: we should +still be writing disguised, and had better write undisguised, prose. +Prose translations are of course tenable, and are (I am told) advocated +by another very eminent critic. These considerations against them occur +to one: that, among the characteristics of his original which the +translator is bound to preserve, one is that he wrote metrically; and +that the prattle which passes muster, and sounds perhaps rather pretty +than otherwise, in metre, would in plain prose be insufferable. Very +likely some exceptional sort of prose may be meant, which would dispose +of all such difficulties: but this would be harder for an ordinary +writer to evolve out of his own brain, than to construct any species of +verse for which he has at least a model and a precedent. + +These remarks are made to shew that my metres were not selected, as it +might appear, at hap-hazard. Metre is not so unimportant as to justify +that. For the rest, I have used Briggs's edition[F] (_Poetae Bucolici +Graeci_), and have never, that I am aware of, taken refuge in any various +reading where I could make any sense at all of the text as given by him. +Sometimes I have been content to put down what I felt was a wrong +rendering rather than omit; but only in cases where the original was +plainly corrupt, and all suggested emendations seemed to me hopelessly +wide of the mark. What, for instance, may be the true meaning of +[Greek: bolbhost tist kochlhiast] in the fourteenth Idyll I have no +idea. It is not very important. And no doubt the sense of the last two +lines of the "_Death of Adonis_" is very unlikely to be what I have made +it. But no suggestion that I met with seemed to me satisfactory or even +plausible: and in this and a few similar cases I have put down what +suited the context. Occasionally also, as in the Idyll here printed +last--the one lately discovered by Bergk, which I elucidated by the +light of Fritzsche's conjectures--I have availed myself of an opinion +which Professor Conington somewhere expresses, to the effect that, where +two interpretations are tenable, it is lawful to accept for the purposes +of translation the one you might reject as a commentator. [Greek: +tetootaiost] has I dare say nothing whatever to do with 'quartan fever.' + +On one point, rather a minor one, I have ventured to dissent from +Professor Blackie and others: namely, in retaining the Greek, instead of +adopting the Roman, nomenclature. Professor Blackie says[G] that there +are some men by whom "it is esteemed a grave offence to call Jupiter +Jupiter," which begs the question: and that Jove "is much more musical" +than Zeus, which begs another. Granting (what might be questioned) that +_Zeus, Aphrodite_, and _Eros_ are as absolutely the same individuals +with _Jupiter, Venus_, and _Cupid_ as _Odysseus_ undoubtedly is with +_Ulysses_--still I cannot see why, in making a version of (say) +Theocritus, one should not use by way of preference those names by which +he invariably called them, and which are characteristic of him: why, in +turning a Greek author into English, we should begin by turning all the +proper names into Latin. Professor Blackie's authoritative statement[H] +that "there are whole idylls in Theocritus which would sound ridiculous +in any other language than that of Tam o' Shanter" I accept of course +unhesitatingly, and should like to see it acted upon by himself or any +competent person. But a translator is bound to interpret all as best he +may: and an attempt to write Tam o' Shanter's language by one who was +not Tam o' Shanter's countryman would, I fear, result in something more +ridiculous still. + +C.S.C. + +*** For Cometas, in Idyll V., read _Comatas_. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote A: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., pp. 413, 414.] + +[Footnote B: _Ibid_., page 377, etc.] + +[Footnote C: Professor Kingsley.] + +[Footnote D: Preface to CONINGTON'S _AEneid_, page ix.] + +[Footnote E: _Ibid_.] + +[Footnote F: Since writing the above lines I have had the advantage of +seeing Mr. Paley's _Theocritus_, which was not out when I made my +version.] + +[Footnote G: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Preface, pp. xii., xiii.] + +[Footnote H: BLACKIE'S _Homer_, Vol. I., page 384.] + + + + +CONTENTS. + + IDYLL I. + THE DEATH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL II. + THE SORCERESS + + IDYLL III. + THE SERENADE + + IDYLL IV. + THE HERDSMAN + + IDYLL V. + THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS + + IDYLL VI. + THE DRAWN BATTLE + + IDYLL VII. + HARVEST-HOME + + IDYLL VIII. + THE TRIUMPH OF DAPHNIS + + IDYLL IX. + PASTORALS + + IDYLL X. + THE TWO WORKMEN + + IDYLL XI. + THE GIANT'S WOOING + + IDYLL XII. + THE COMRADES + + IDYLL XIII. + HYLAS + + IDYLL XIV. + THE LOVE OF AESCHINES + + IDYLL XV. + THE FESTIVAL OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XVI. + THE VALUE OF SONG + + IDYLL XVII. + THE PRAISE OF PTOLEMY + + IDYLL XVIII. + THE BRIDAL OF HELEN + + IDYLL XIX. + LOVE STEALING HONEY + + IDYLL XX. + TOWN AND COUNTRY + + IDYLL XXI. + THE FISHERMEN + + IDYLL XXII. + THE SONS OF LEDA + + IDYLL XXIII. + LOVE AVENGED + + IDYLL XXIV. + THE INFANT HERACLES + + IDYLL XXV. + HERACLES THE LION SLAYER + + IDYLL XXVI. + THE BACCHANALS + + IDYLL XXVII. + A COUNTRYMAN'S WOOING + + IDYLL XXVIII. + THE DISTAFF + + IDYLL XXIX. + LOVES + + IDYLL XXX. + THE DEATH OF ADONIS + + IDYLL XXXI. + LOVES + + FRAGMENT FROM THE "BERENICE" + + EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS:-- + + I.--VI. + VII.--FOR A STATUE OF AESCULAPIUS + VIII.--ORTHO'S EPITAPH + IX.--EPITAPH OF CLEONICUS + X.--FOR A STATUE OF THE MUSES + XI.--EPITAPH OF EUSTHENES + XII.--FOR A TRIPOD ERECTED BY DAMOTELES TO BACCHUS + XIII.--FOR A STATUE OF ANACREON + XIV.--EPITAPH OF EURYMEDON + XV.--ANOTHER + XVI.--FOR A STATUE OF THE HEAVENLY APHRODITE + XVII.--To EPICHARMUS + XVIII.--EPITAPH OF CLEITA, NURSE OF MEDEIUS + XIX.--TO ARCHILOCHUS + XX.--UNDER A STATUE OF PEISANDER + XXI.--EPITAPH OF HIPPONAX + XXII.--ON HIS OWN BOOK + + + + +IDYLL I. + + +The Death of Daphnis. + +_THYRSIS. A GOATHERD._ + + THYRSIS. + Sweet are the whispers of yon pine that makes + Low music o'er the spring, and, Goatherd, sweet + Thy piping; second thou to Pan alone. + Is his the horned ram? then thine the goat. + Is his the goat? to thee shall fall the kid; + And toothsome is the flesh of unmilked kids. + + GOATHERD. + Shepherd, thy lay is as the noise of streams + Falling and falling aye from yon tall crag. + If for their meed the Muses claim the ewe, + Be thine the stall-fed lamb; or if they choose + The lamb, take thou the scarce less-valued ewe. + + THYRSIS. + Pray, by the Nymphs, pray, Goatherd, seat thee here + Against this hill-slope in the tamarisk shade, + And pipe me somewhat, while I guard thy goats. + + GOATHERD. + I durst not, Shepherd, O I durst not pipe + At noontide; fearing Pan, who at that hour + Rests from the toils of hunting. Harsh is he; + Wrath at his nostrils aye sits sentinel. + But, Thyrsis, thou canst sing of Daphnis' woes; + High is thy name for woodland minstrelsy: + Then rest we in the shadow of the elm + Fronting Priapus and the Fountain-nymphs. + There, where the oaks are and the Shepherd's seat, + Sing as thou sang'st erewhile, when matched with him + Of Libya, Chromis; and I'll give thee, first, + To milk, ay thrice, a goat--she suckles twins, + Yet ne'ertheless can fill two milkpails full;-- + Next, a deep drinking-cup, with sweet wax scoured, + Two-handled, newly-carven, smacking yet + 0' the chisel. Ivy reaches up and climbs + About its lip, gilt here and there with sprays + Of woodbine, that enwreathed about it flaunts + Her saffron fruitage. Framed therein appears + A damsel ('tis a miracle of art) + In robe and snood: and suitors at her side + With locks fair-flowing, on her right and left, + Battle with words, that fail to reach her heart. + She, laughing, glances now on this, flings now + Her chance regards on that: they, all for love + Wearied and eye-swoln, find their labour lost. + Carven elsewhere an ancient fisher stands + On the rough rocks: thereto the old man with pains + Drags his great casting-net, as one that toils + Full stoutly: every fibre of his frame + Seems fishing; so about the gray-beard's neck + (In might a youngster yet) the sinews swell. + Hard by that wave-beat sire a vineyard bends + Beneath its graceful load of burnished grapes; + A boy sits on the rude fence watching them. + Near him two foxes: down the rows of grapes + One ranging steals the ripest; one assails + With wiles the poor lad's scrip, to leave him soon + Stranded and supperless. He plaits meanwhile + With ears of corn a right fine cricket-trap, + And fits it on a rush: for vines, for scrip, + Little he cares, enamoured of his toy. + The cup is hung all round with lissom briar, + Triumph of AEolian art, a wondrous sight. + It was a ferryman's of Calydon: + A goat it cost me, and a great white cheese. + Ne'er yet my lips came near it, virgin still + It stands. And welcome to such boon art thou, + If for my sake thou'lt sing that lay of lays. + I jest not: up, lad, sing: no songs thou'lt own + In the dim land where all things are forgot. + + THYSIS [_sings_]. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The voice of Thyrsis. AEtna's Thyrsis I. + Where were ye, Nymphs, oh where, while Daphnis pined? + In fair Peneus' or in Pindus' glens? + For great Anapus' stream was not your haunt, + Nor AEtna's cliff, nor Acis' sacred rill. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + O'er him the wolves, the jackals howled o'er him; + The lion in the oak-copse mourned his death. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + The kine and oxen stood around his feet, + The heifers and the calves wailed all for him. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + First from the mountain Hermes came, and said, + "Daphnis, who frets thee? Lad, whom lov'st thou so?" + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came herdsmen, shepherds came, and goatherds came; + All asked what ailed the lad. Priapus came + And said, "Why pine, poor Daphnis? while the maid + Foots it round every pool and every grove, + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_) + "O lack-love and perverse, in quest of thee; + Herdsman in name, but goatherd rightlier called. + With eyes that yearn the goatherd marks his kids + Run riot, for he fain would frisk as they: + (_Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_): + "With eyes that yearn dost thou too mark the laugh + Of maidens, for thou may'st not share their glee." + Still naught the herdsman said: he drained alone + His bitter portion, till the fatal end. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Came Aphrodite, smiles on her sweet face, + False smiles, for heavy was her heart, and spake: + "So, Daphnis, thou must try a fall with Love! + But stalwart Love hath won the fall of thee." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + Then "Ruthless Aphrodite," Daphnis said, + "Accursed Aphrodite, foe to man! + Say'st thou mine hour is come, my sun hath set? + Dead as alive, shall Daphnis work Love woe." + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Fly to Mount Ida, where the swain (men say) + And Aphrodite--to Anchises fly: + There are oak-forests; here but galingale, + And bees that make a music round the hives. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Adonis owed his bloom to tending flocks + And smiting hares, and bringing wild beasts down. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Face once more Diomed: tell him 'I have slain + The herdsman Daphnis; now I challenge thee.' + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Farewell, wolf, jackal, mountain-prisoned bear! + Ye'll see no more by grove or glade or glen + Your herdsman Daphnis! Arethuse, farewell, + And the bright streams that pour down Thymbris' side. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "I am that Daphnis, who lead here my kine, + Bring here to drink my oxen and my calves. + _Begin, sweet Maids, begin the woodland song_. + "Pan, Pan, oh whether great Lyceum's crags + Thou haunt'st to-day, or mightier Maenalus, + Come to the Sicel isle! Abandon now + Rhium and Helice, and the mountain-cairn + (That e'en gods cherish) of Lycaon's son! + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "Come, king of song, o'er this my pipe, compact + With wax and honey-breathing, arch thy lip: + For surely I am torn from life by Love. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_. + "From thicket now and thorn let violets spring, + Now let white lilies drape the juniper, + And pines grow figs, and nature all go wrong: + For Daphnis dies. Let deer pursue the hounds, + And mountain-owls outsing the nightingale. + _Forget, sweet Maids, forget your woodland song_." + + So spake he, and he never spake again. + Fain Aphrodite would have raised his head; + But all his thread was spun. So down the stream + Went Daphnis: closed the waters o'er a head + Dear to the Nine, of nymphs not unbeloved. + Now give me goat and cup; that I may milk + The one, and pour the other to the Muse. + Fare ye well, Muses, o'er and o'er farewell! + I'll sing strains lovelier yet in days to be. + + GOATHERD. + Thyrsis, let honey and the honeycomb + Fill thy sweet mouth, and figs of AEgilus: + For ne'er cicala trilled so sweet a song. + Here is the cup: mark, friend, how sweet it smells: + The Hours, thou'lt say, have washed it in their well. + Hither, Cissaetha! Thou, go milk her! Kids, + Be steady, or your pranks will rouse the ram. + + + + +IDYLL II. + + +The Sorceress. + + Where are the bay-leaves, Thestylis, and the charms? + Fetch all; with fiery wool the caldron crown; + Let glamour win me back my false lord's heart! + Twelve days the wretch hath not come nigh to me, + Nor made enquiry if I die or live, + Nor clamoured (oh unkindness!) at my door. + Sure his swift fancy wanders otherwhere, + The slave of Aphrodite and of Love. + I'll off to Timagetus' wrestling-school + At dawn, that I may see him and denounce + His doings; but I'll charm him now with charms. + So shine out fair, O moon! To thee I sing + My soft low song: to thee and Hecate + The dweller in the shades, at whose approach + E'en the dogs quake, as on she moves through blood + And darkness and the barrows of the slain. + All hail, dread Hecate: companion me + Unto the end, and work me witcheries + Potent as Circe or Medea wrought, + Or Perimede of the golden hair! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + First we ignite the grain. Nay, pile it on: + Where are thy wits flown, timorous Thestylis? + Shall I be flouted, I, by such as thou? + Pile, and still say, 'This pile is of his bones.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Delphis racks me: I burn him in these bays. + As, flame-enkindled, they lift up their voice, + Blaze once, and not a trace is left behind: + So waste his flesh to powder in yon fire! + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + E'en as I melt, not uninspired, the wax, + May Mindian Delphis melt this hour with love: + And, swiftly as this brazen wheel whirls round, + May Aphrodite whirl him to my door. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Next burn the husks. Hell's adamantine floor + And aught that else stands firm can Artemis move. + Thestylis, the hounds bay up and down the town: + The goddess stands i' the crossroads: sound the gongs. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Hushed are the voices of the winds and seas; + But O not hushed the voice of my despair. + He burns my being up, who left me here + No wife, no maiden, in my misery. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + Thrice I pour out; speak thrice, sweet mistress, thus: + "What face soe'er hangs o'er him be forgot + Clean as, in Dia, Theseus (legends say) + Forgat his Ariadne's locks of love." + _Turn, magic, wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + The coltsfoot grows in Arcady, the weed + That drives the mountain-colts and swift mares wild. + Like them may Delphis rave: so, maniac-wise, + Race from his burnished brethren home to me. + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + He lost this tassel from his robe; which I + Shred thus, and cast it on the raging flames. + Ah baleful Love! why, like the marsh-born leech, + Cling to my flesh, and drain my dark veins dry? + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + From a crushed eft tomorrow he shall drink + Death! But now, Thestylis, take these herbs and smear + That threshold o'er, whereto at heart I cling + Still, still--albeit he thinks scorn of me-- + And spit, and say, ''Tis Delphis' bones I smear.' + _Turn, magic wheel, draw homeward him I love_. + + [_Exit Thestylis_. + + Now, all alone, I'll weep a love whence sprung + When born? Who wrought my sorrow? Anaxo came, + Her basket in her hand, to Artemis' grove. + Bound for the festival, troops of forest beasts + Stood round, and in the midst a lioness. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Theucharidas' slave, my Thracian nurse now dead + Then my near neighbour, prayed me and implored + To see the pageant: I, the poor doomed thing, + Went with her, trailing a fine silken train, + And gathering round me Clearista's robe. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + Now, the mid-highway reached by Lycon's farm, + Delphis and Eudamippus passed me by. + With beards as lustrous as the woodbine's gold + And breasts more sheeny than thyself, O Moon, + Fresh from the wrestler's glorious toil they came. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + I saw, I raved, smit (weakling) to my heart. + My beauty withered, and I cared no more + For all that pomp; and how I gained my home + I know not: some strange fever wasted me. + Ten nights and days I lay upon my bed. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + And wan became my flesh, as 't had been dyed, + And all my hair streamed off, and there was left + But bones and skin. Whose threshold crossed I not, + Or missed what grandam's hut who dealt in charms? + For no light thing was this, and time sped on. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + At last I spake the truth to that my maid: + "Seek, an thou canst, some cure for my sore pain. + Alas, I am all the Mindian's! But begone, + And watch by Timagetus' wrestling-school: + There doth he haunt, there soothly take his rest. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Find him alone: nod softly: say, 'she waits'; + And bring him." So I spake: she went her way, + And brought the lustrous-limbed one to my roof. + And I, the instant I beheld him step + Lightfooted o'er the threshold of my door, + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_,) + Became all cold like snow, and from my brow + Brake the damp dewdrops: utterance I had none, + Not e'en such utterance as a babe may make + That babbles to its mother in its dreams; + But all my fair frame stiffened into wax. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + He bent his pitiless eyes on me; looked down, + And sate him on my couch, and sitting, said: + "Thou hast gained on me, Simaetha, (e'en as I + Gained once on young Philinus in the race,) + Bidding me hither ere I came unasked. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "For I had come, by Eros I had come, + This night, with comrades twain or may-be more, + The fruitage of the Wine-god in my robe, + And, wound about my brow with ribands red, + The silver leaves so dear to Heracles. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Had ye said 'Enter,' well: for 'mid my peers + High is my name for goodliness and speed: + I had kissed that sweet mouth once and gone my way. + But had the door been barred, and I thrust out, + With brand and axe would we have stormed ye then. + _Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_. + "Now be my thanks recorded, first to Love, + Next to thee, maiden, who didst pluck me out, + A half-burned helpless creature, from the flames, + And badst me hither. It is Love that lights + A fire more fierce than his of Lipara; + _(Bethink thee, mistress Moon, whence came my love_.) + "Scares, mischief-mad, the maiden from her bower, + The bride from her warm couch." He spake: and I, + A willing listener, sat, my hand in his, + Among the cushions, and his cheek touched mine, + Each hotter than its wont, and we discoursed + In soft low language. Need I prate to thee, + Sweet Moon, of all we said and all we did? + Till yesterday he found no fault with me, + Nor I with him. But lo, to-day there came + Philista's mother--hers who flutes to me-- + With her Melampo's; just when up the sky + Gallop the mares that chariot rose-limbed Dawn: + And divers tales she brought me, with the rest + How Delphis loved, she knew not rightly whom: + But this she knew; that of the rich wine, aye + He poured 'to Love;' and at the last had fled, + To line, she deemed, the fair one's hall with flowers. + Such was my visitor's tale, and it was true: + For thrice, nay four times, daily he would stroll + Hither, leave here full oft his Dorian flask: + Now--'tis a fortnight since I saw his face. + Doth he then treasure something sweet elsewhere? + Am I forgot? I'll charm him now with charms. + But let him try me more, and by the Fates + He'll soon be knocking at the gates of hell. + Spells of such power are in this chest of mine, + Learned, lady, from mine host in Palestine. + + Lady, farewell: turn ocean-ward thy steeds: + As I have purposed, so shall I fulfil. + Farewell, thou bright-faced Moon! Ye stars, farewell, + That wait upon the car of noiseless Night. + + + + +IDYLL III. + + +The Serenade. + + I pipe to Amaryllis; while my goats, + Tityrus their guardian, browse along the fell. + O Tityrus, as I love thee, feed my goats: + And lead them to the spring, and, Tityrus, 'ware + The lifted crest of yon gray Libyan ram. + Ah winsome Amaryllis! Why no more + Greet'st thou thy darling, from the caverned rock + Peeping all coyly? Think'st thou scorn of him? + Hath a near view revealed him satyr-shaped + Of chin and nostril? I shall hang me soon. + See here ten apples: from thy favourite tree + I plucked them: I shall bring ten more anon. + Ah witness my heart-anguish! Oh were I + A booming bee, to waft me to thy lair, + Threading the fern and ivy in whose depths + Thou nestlest! I have learned what Love is now: + Fell god, he drank the lioness's milk, + In the wild woods his mother cradled him, + Whose fire slow-burns me, smiting to the bone. + O thou whose glance is beauty and whose heart + All marble: O dark-eyebrowed maiden mine! + Cling to thy goatherd, let him kiss thy lips, + For there is sweetness in an empty kiss. + Thou wilt not? Piecemeal I will rend the crown, + The ivy-crown which, dear, I guard for thee, + Inwov'n with scented parsley and with flowers: + Oh I am desperate--what betides me, what?-- + Still art thou deaf? I'll doff my coat of skins + And leap into yon waves, where on the watch + For mackerel Olpis sits: tho' I 'scape death, + That I have all but died will pleasure thee. + That learned I when (I murmuring 'loves she me?') + The _Love-in-absence_, crushed, returned no sound, + But shrank and shrivelled on my smooth young wrist. + I learned it of the sieve-divining crone + Who gleaned behind the reapers yesterday: + 'Thou'rt wrapt up all,' Agraia said, 'in her; + She makes of none account her worshipper.' + Lo! a white goat, and twins, I keep for thee: + Mermnon's lass covets them: dark she is of skin: + But yet hers be they; thou but foolest me. + She cometh, by the quivering of mine eye. + I'll lean against the pine-tree here and sing. + She may look round: she is not adamant. + + [_Sings_] Hippomenes, when he a maid would wed, + Took apples in his hand and on he sped. + Famed Atalanta's heart was won by this; + She marked, and maddening sank in Love's abyss. + + From Othrys did the seer Melampus stray + To Pylos with his herd: and lo there lay + In a swain's arms a maid of beauty rare; + Alphesiboea, wise of heart, she bare. + + Did not Adonis rouse to such excess + Of frenzy her whose name is Loveliness, + (He a mere lad whose wethers grazed the hill) + That, dead, he's pillowed on her bosom still? + + Endymion sleeps the sleep that changeth not: + And, maiden mine, I envy him his lot! + Envy Iasion's: his it was to gain + Bliss that I dare not breathe in ears profane. + + My head aches. What reck'st thou? I sing no more: + E'en where I fell I'll lie, until the wolves + Rend me--may that be honey in thy mouth! + + + + +IDYLL IV. + + +The Herdsmen. + +_BATTUS. CORYDON._ + + BATTUS. + Who owns these cattle, Corydon? Philondas? Prythee say. + + CORYDON. + No, AEgon: and he gave them me to tend while he's away. + + BATTUS. + Dost milk them in the gloaming, when none is nigh to see? + + CORYDON. + The old man brings the calves to suck, and keeps an eye on me. + + BATTUS. + And to what region then hath flown the cattle's rightful lord? + + CORYDON. + Hast thou not heard? With Milo he vanished Elis-ward. + + BATTUS. + How! was the wrestler's oil e'er yet so much as seen by him? + + CORYDON. + Men say he rivals Heracles in lustiness of limb. + + BATTUS. + I'm Polydeuces' match (or so my mother says) and more. + + CORYDON. + --So off he started; with a spade, and of these ewes a score. + + BATTUS. + This Milo will be teaching wolves how they should raven next. + + CORYDON. + --And by these bellowings his kine proclaim how sore they're vexed. + + BATTUS. + Poor kine! they've found their master a sorry knave indeed. + + CORYDON. + They're poor enough, I grant you: they have not heart to feed. + + BATTUS. + Look at that heifer! sure there's naught, save bare bones, left of her. + Pray, does she browse on dewdrops, as doth the grasshopper? + + CORYDON. + Not she, by heaven! She pastures now by AEsarus' glades, + And handfuls fair I pluck her there of young and green grass-blades; + Now bounds about Latymnus, that gathering-place of shades. + + BATTUS. + That bull again, the red one, my word but he is lean! + I wish the Sybarite burghers aye may offer to the queen + Of heaven as pitiful a beast: those burghers are so mean! + + CORYDON. + Yet to the Salt Lake's edges I drive him, I can swear; + Up Physcus, up Neaethus' side--he lacks not victual there, + With dittany and endive and foxglove for his fare. + + BATTUS. + Well, well! I pity AEgon. His cattle, go they must + To rack and ruin, all because vain-glory was his lust. + The pipe that erst he fashioned is doubtless scored with rust? + + CORYDON. + Nay, by the Nymphs! That pipe he left to me, the self-same day + He made for Pisa: I am too a minstrel in my way: + Well the flute-part in '_Pyrrhus_' and in '_Glauca_' can I play. + I sing too '_Here's to Croton_' and '_Zacynthus O 'tis fair_,' + And '_Eastward to Lacinium_:'--the bruiser Milo there + His single self ate eighty loaves; there also did he pull + Down from its mountain-dwelling, by one hoof grasped, a bull, + And gave it Amaryllis: the maidens screamed with fright; + As for the owner of the bull he only laughed outright. + + BATTUS. + Sweet Amaryllis! thou alone, though dead, art unforgot. + Dearer than thou, whose light is quenched, my very goats are not. + Oh for the all-unkindly fate that's fallen to my lot! + + CORYDON. + Cheer up, brave lad! tomorrow may ease thee of thy pain: + Aye for the living are there hopes, past' hoping are the slain: + And now Zeus sends us sunshine, and now he sends us rain. + + BATTUS. + I'm better. Beat those young ones off! E'en now their teeth attack + That olive's shoots, the graceless brutes! Back, with your white face, + back! + + CORYDON. + Back to thy hill, Cymaetha! Great Pan, how deaf thou art! + I shall be with thee presently, and in the end thou'lt smart. + I warn thee, keep thy distance. Look, up she creeps again! + Oh were my hare-crook in nay hand, I'd give it to her then! + + BATTUS. + For heaven's sake, Corydon, look here! Just now a bramble-spike + Ran, there, into my instep--and oh how deep they strike, + Those lancewood-shafts! A murrain light on that calf, I say! + I got it gaping after her. Canst thou discern it, pray? + + CORYDON. + Ay, ay; and here I have it, safe in my finger-nails. + + BATTUS. + Eh! at how slight a matter how tall a warrior quails! + + CORYDON. + Ne'er range the hill-crest, Battus, all sandal-less and bare: + Because the thistle and the thorn lift aye their plumed heads there. + + BATTUS. + --Say, Corydon, does that old man we wot of (tell me please!) + Still haunt the dark-browed little girl whom once he used to tease? + + CORYDON. + Ay my poor boy, that doth he: I saw them yesterday + Down by the byre; and, trust me, loving enough were they. + + BATTUS. + Well done, my veteran light-o'-love! In deeming thee mere man, + I wronged thy sire: some Satyr he, or an uncouth-limbed Pan. + + + + +IDYLL V. + + +The Battle of the Bards. + + +_COMETAS. LACON. MORSON_. + + + COMETAS. + Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away: + Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday. + + LACON. + Hi! lambs! avoid yon fountain. Have ye not eyes to see + Cometas, him who filched a pipe but two days back from me? + + COMETAS. + Sibyrtas' bondsman own a pipe? whence gotst thou that, and how? + Tootling through straws with Corydon mayhap's beneath thee now? + + LACON. + 'Twas Lycon's gift, your highness. But pray, Cometas, say, + What is that skin wherewith thou saidst that Lacon walked away? + Why, thy lord's self had ne'er a skin whereon his limbs to lay. + + COMETAS. + The skin that Crocylus gave me, a dark one streaked with white, + The day he slew his she-goat. Why, thou wert ill with spite, + Then, my false friend; and thou would'st end by beggaring me quite. + + LACON. + Did Lacon, did Calaethis' son purloin a goatskin? No, + By Pan that haunts the sea-beach! Lad, if I served thee so, + Crazed may I drop from yon hill-top to Crathis' stream below! + + COMETAS. + Nor pipe of thine, good fellow--the Ladies of the Lake + So be still kind and good to me--did e'er Cometas take. + + LACON. + Be Daphnis' woes my portion, should that my credence win! + Still, if thou list to stake a kid--that surely were no sin-- + Come on, I'll sing it out with thee--until thou givest in. + + COMETAS. + '_The hog he braved Athene._' As for the kid, 'tis there: + You stake a lamb against him--that fat one--if you dare. + + LACON. + Fox! were that fair for either? At shearing who'd prefer + Horsehair to wool? or when the goat stood handy, suffer her + To nurse her firstling, and himself go milk a blatant cur? + + COMETAS. + The same who deemed his hornet's-buzz the true cicala's note, + And braved--like you--his better. And so forsooth you vote + My kid a trifle? Then come on, fellow! I stake the goat. + + LACON. + Why be so hot? Art thou on fire? First prythee take thy seat + 'Neath this wild woodland olive: thy tones will sound more sweet. + Here falls a cold rill drop by drop, and green grass-blades uprear + Their heads, and fallen leaves are thick, and locusts prattle here. + + COMETAS. + Hot I am not; but hurt I am, and sorely, when I think + That thou canst look me in the face and never bleach nor blink-- + Me, thine own boyhood's tutor! Go, train the she-wolf's brood: + Train dogs--that they may rend thee! This, this is gratitude! + + LACON. + When learned I from thy practice or thy preaching aught that's right, + Thou puppet, thou misshapen lump of ugliness and spite? + + COMETAS. + When? When I beat thee, wailing sore: yon goats looked on with glee, + And bleated; and were dealt with e'en as I had dealt with thee. + + LACON. + Well, hunchback, shallow be thy grave as was thy judgment then! + But hither, hither! Thou'lt not dip in herdsman's lore again. + + COMETAS. + Nay, here are oaks and galingale: the hum of housing bees + Makes the place pleasant, and the birds are piping in the trees. + And here are two cold streamlets; here deeper shadows fall + Than yon place owns, and look what cones drop from the pinetree tall. + + LACON. + Come hither, and tread on lambswool that is soft as any dream: + Still more unsavoury than thyself to me thy goatskins seem. + Here will I plant a bowl of milk, our ladies' grace to win; + And one, as huge, beside it, sweet olive-oil therein. + + COMETAS. + Come hither, and trample dainty fern and poppy-blossom: sleep + On goatskins that are softer than thy fleeces piled three deep. + Here will I plant eight milkpails, great Pan's regard to gain, + Bound them eight cups: full honeycombs shall every cup contain. + + LACON. + Well! there essay thy woodcraft: thence fight me, never budge + From thine own oak; e'en have thy way. But who shall be our judge? + Oh, if Lycopas with his kine should chance this way to trudge! + + COMETAS. + Nay, I want no Lycopas. But hail yon woodsman, do: + 'Tis Morson--see! his arms are full of bracken--there, by you. + + LACON. + We'll hail him. + + COMETAS. + Ay, you hail him. + + LACON. + Friend, 'twill not take thee long: + We're striving which is master, we twain, in woodland song: + And thou, my good friend Morson, ne'er look with favouring eyes + On me; nor yet to yonder lad be fain to judge the prize. + + COMETAS. + Nay, by the Nymphs, sweet Morson, ne'er for Cometas' sake + Stretch thou a point; nor e'er let him undue advantage take. + Sibyrtas owns yon wethers; a Thurian is he: + And here, my friend, Eumares' goats, of Sybaris, you may see. + + LACON. + And who asked thee, thou naughty knave, to whom belonged these flocks, + Sibyrtas, or (it might be) me? Eh, thou'rt a chatter-box! + + COMETAS. + The simple truth, most worshipful, is all that I allege: + I'm not for boasting. But thy wit hath all too keen an edge. + + LACON. + Come sing, if singing's in thee--and may our friend get back + To town alive! Heaven help us, lad, how thy tongue doth clack! + + COMETAS. [_Sings_] + Daphnis the mighty minstrel was less precious to the Nine + Than I. I offered yesterday two kids upon their shrine. + + LACON. [_Sings_] + Ay, but Apollo fancies me hugely: for him I rear + A lordly ram: and, look you, the Carnival is near. + + COMETAS. + Twin kids hath every goat I milk, save two. My maid, my own, + Eyes me and asks 'At milking time, rogue, art thou all alone?' + + LACON. + Go to! nigh twenty baskets doth Lacon fill with cheese: + Hath time to woo a sweetheart too upon the blossomed leas. + + COMETAS. + Clarissa pelts her goatherd with apples, should he stray + By with his goats; and pouts her lip in a quaint charming way. + + LACON. + Me too a darling smooth of face notes as I tend my flocks: + How maddeningly o'er that fair neck ripple those shining locks! + + COMETAS. + Tho' dogrose and anemone are fair in their degree, + The rose that blooms by garden-walls still is the rose for me. + + LACON. + Tho' acorns' cups are fair, their taste is bitterness, and still + I'll choose, for honeysweet are they, the apples of the hill. + + COMETAS. + A cushat I will presently procure and give to her + Who loves me: I know where it sits; up in the juniper. + + LACON. + Pooh! a soft fleece, to make a coat, I'll give the day I shear + My brindled ewe--(no hand but mine shall touch it)--to my dear. + + COMETAS. + Back, lambs, from that wild-olive: and be content to browse + Here on the shoulder of the hill, beneath the myrtle boughs. + + LACON. + Run, (will ye?) Ball and Dogstar, down from that oak tree, run: + And feed where Spot is feeding, and catch the morning sun. + + COMETAS. + I have a bowl of cypress-wood: I have besides a cup: + Praxiteles designed them: for _her_ they're treasured up. + + LACON. + I have a dog who throttles wolves: he loves the sheep, and they + Love him: I'll give him to my dear, to keep wild beasts at bay. + + COMETAS. + Ye locusts that o'erleap my fence, oh let my vines escape + Your clutches, I beseech you: the bloom is on the grape. + + LACON. + Ye crickets, mark how nettled our friend the goatherd is! + I ween, ye cost the reapers pangs as acute as his. + + COMETAS. + Those foxes with their bushy tails, I hate to see them crawl + Round Micon's homestead and purloin his grapes at evenfall. + + LACON. + _I_ hate to see the beetles that come warping on the wind. + And climb Philondas' trees, and leave never a fig behind. + + COMETAS. + Have you forgot that cudgelling I gave you? At each stroke + You grinned and twisted with a grace, and clung to yonder oak. + + LACON. + That I've forgot--but I have not, how once Eumares tied + You to that selfsame oak-trunk, and tanned your unclean hide. + + COMETAS. + There's some one ill--of heartburn. You note it, I presume, + Morson? Go quick, and fetch a squill from some old beldam's tomb. + + LACON. + I think I'm stinging somebody, as Morson too perceives-- + Go to the river and dig up a clump of sowbread-leaves. + + COMETAS. + May Himera flow, not water, but milk: and may'st thou blush, + Crathis, with wine; and fruitage grow upon every rush. + + LACON. + For me may Sybaris' fountain flow, pure honey: so that you, + My fair, may dip your pitcher each morn in honey-dew. + + COMETAS. + My goats are fed on clover and goat's-delight: they tread + On lentisk leaves; or lie them down, ripe strawberries o'er their head. + + LACON. + My sheep crop honeysuckle bloom, while all around them blows + In clusters rich the jasmine, as brave as any rose. + + COMETAS. + I scorn my maid; for when she took my cushat, she did not + Draw with both hands my face to hers and kiss me on the spot. + + LACON. + I love my love, and hugely: for, when I gave my flute, + I was rewarded with a kiss, a loving one to boot. + + COMETAS. + Lacon, the nightingale should scarce be challenged by the jay, + Nor swan by hoopoe: but, poor boy, thou aye wert for a fray. + + MORSON. + I bid the shepherd hold his peace. Cometas, unto you + I, Morson, do adjudge the lamb. You'll first make offering due + Unto the nymphs: then savoury meat you'll send to Morson too. + + COMETAS. + By Pan I will! Snort, all my herd of he-goats: I shall now + O'er Lacon, shepherd as he is, crow ye shall soon see how. + I've won, and I could leap sky-high! Ye also dance and skip, + My horned ewes: in Sybaris' fount to-morrow all shall dip. + Ho! you, sir, with the glossy coat and dangerous crest; you dare + Look at a ewe, till I have slain my lamb, and ill you'll fare. + What! is he at his tricks again? He is, and he will get + (Or my name's not Cometas) a proper pounding yet. + + + + +IDYLL VI. + + +The Drawn Battle. + +DAPHNIS. DAMOETAS. + + Daphnis the herdsman and Damoetas once + Had driven, Aratus, to the selfsame glen. + One chin was yellowing, one shewed half a beard. + And by a brookside on a summer noon + The pair sat down and sang; but Daphnis led + The song, for Daphnis was the challenger. + + DAPHNIS. + "See! Galatea pelts thy flock with fruit, + And calls their master 'Lack-love,' Polypheme. + Thou mark'st her not, blind, blind, but pipest aye + Thy wood-notes. See again, she smites thy dog: + Sea-ward the fleeced flocks' sentinel peers and barks, + And, through the clear wave visible to her still, + Careers along the gently babbling beach. + Look that he leap not on the maid new-risen + From her sea-bath and rend her dainty limbs. + She fools thee, near or far, like thistle-waifs + In hot sweet summer: flies from thee when wooed, + Unwooed pursues thee: risks all moves to win; + For, Polypheme, things foul seem fair to Love." + + And then, due prelude made, Damoetas sang. + + DAMOETAS. + "I marked her pelt my dog, I was not blind, + By Pan, by this my one my precious eye + That bounds my vision now and evermore! + But Telemus the Seer, be his the woe, + His and his children's, that he promised me! + Yet do I too tease her; I pass her by, + Pretend to woo another:--and she hears + (Heaven help me!) and is faint with jealousy; + And hurrying from the sea-wave as if stung, + Scans with keen glance my grotto and my flock. + 'Twas I hissed on the dog to bark at her; + For, when I loved her, he would whine and lay + His muzzle in her lap. These things she'll note + Mayhap, and message send on message soon: + But I will bar my door until she swear + To make me on this isle fair bridal-bed. + And I am less unlovely than men say. + I looked into the mere (the mere was calm), + And goodly seemed my beard, and goodly seemed + My solitary eye, and, half-revealed, + My teeth gleamed whiter than the Parian marl. + Thrice for good luck I spat upon my robe: + That learned I of the hag Cottytaris--her + Who fluted lately with Hippocooen's mowers." + + Damoetas then kissed Daphnis lovingly: + One gave a pipe and one a goodly flute. + Straight to the shepherd's flute and herdsman's pipe + The younglings bounded in the soft green grass: + And neither was o'ermatched, but matchless both. + + + + +IDYLL VII. + + +Harvest-Home. + + Once on a time did Eucritus and I + (With us Amyntas) to the riverside + Steal from the city. For Lycopeus' sons + Were that day busy with the harvest-home, + Antigenes and Phrasidemus, sprung + (If aught thou holdest by the good old names) + By Clytia from great Chalcon--him who erst + Planted one stalwart knee against the rock, + And lo, beneath his foot Burine's rill + Brake forth, and at its side poplar and elm + Shewed aisles of pleasant shadow, greenly roofed + By tufted leaves. Scarce midway were we now, + Nor yet descried the tomb of Brasilas: + When, thanks be to the Muses, there drew near + A wayfarer from Crete, young Lycidas. + The horned herd was his care: a glance might tell + So much: for every inch a herdsman he. + Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide + Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired, + That reeked of rennet yet: a broad belt clasped + A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff + A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore. + Soon with a quiet smile he spoke--his eye + Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip: + "And whither ploddest thou thy weary way + Beneath the noontide sun, Simichidas? + For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall, + The crested lark folds now his wandering wing. + Dost speed, a bidden guest, to some reveller's board? + Or townward to the treading of the grape? + For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet + The pavement-stones ring out right merrily." + Then I: "Friend Lycid, all men say that none + Of haymakers or herdsmen is thy match + At piping: and my soul is glad thereat. + Yet, to speak sooth, I think to rival thee. + Now look, this road holds holiday to-day: + For banded brethren solemnise a feast + To richly-dight Demeter, thanking her + For her good gifts: since with no grudging hand + Hath the boon goddess filled the wheaten floors. + So come: the way, the day, is thine as mine: + Try we our woodcraft--each may learn from each. + I am, as thou, a clarion-voice of song; + All hail me chief of minstrels. But I am not, + Heaven knows, o'ercredulous: no, I scarce can yet + (I think) outvie Philetas, nor the bard + Of Samos, champion of Sicilian song. + They are as cicadas challenged by a frog." + + I spake to gain mine ends; and laughing light + He said: "Accept this club, as thou'rt indeed + A born truth-teller, shaped by heaven's own hand! + I hate your builders who would rear a house + High as Oromedon's mountain-pinnacle: + I hate your song-birds too, whose cuckoo-cry + Struggles (in vain) to match the Chian bard. + But come, we'll sing forthwith, Simichidas, + Our woodland music: and for my part I-- + List, comrade, if you like the simple air + I forged among the uplands yesterday. + + [_Sings_] Safe be my true-love convoyed o'er the main + To Mitylene--though the southern blast + Chase the lithe waves, while westward slant the Kids, + Or low above the verge Orion stand-- + If from Love's furnace she will rescue me, + For Lycidas is parched with hot desire. + Let halcyons lay the sea-waves and the winds, + Northwind and Westwind, that in shores far-off + Flutters the seaweed--halcyons, of all birds + Whose prey is on the waters, held most dear + By the green Nereids: yea let all things smile + On her to Mitylene voyaging, + And in fair harbour may she ride at last. + I on that day, a chaplet woven of dill + Or rose or simple violet on my brow, + Will draw the wine of Pteleas from the cask + Stretched by the ingle. They shall roast me beans, + And elbow-deep in thyme and asphodel + And quaintly-curling parsley shall be piled + My bed of rushes, where in royal ease + I sit and, thinking of my darling, drain + With stedfast lip the liquor to the dregs. + I'll have a pair of pipers, shepherds both, + This from Acharnae, from Lycope that; + And Tityrus shall be near me and shall sing + How the swain Daphnis loved the stranger-maid; + And how he ranged the fells, and how the oaks + (Such oaks as Himera's banks are green withal) + Sang dirges o'er him waning fast away + Like snow on Athos, or on Haemus high, + Or Rhodope, or utmost Caucasus. + And he shall sing me how the big chest held + (All through the maniac malice of his lord) + A living goatherd: how the round-faced bees, + Lured from their meadow by the cedar-smell, + Fed him with daintiest flowers, because the Muse + Had made his throat a well-spring of sweet song. + Happy Cometas, this sweet lot was thine! + Thee the chest prisoned, for thee the honey-bees + Toiled, as thou slavedst out the mellowing year: + And oh hadst thou been numbered with the quick + In my day! I had led thy pretty goats + About the hill-side, listening to thy voice: + While thou hadst lain thee down 'neath oak or pine, + Divine Cometas, warbling pleasantly." + + He spake and paused; and thereupon spake I. + "I too, friend Lycid, as I ranged the fells, + Have learned much lore and pleasant from the Nymphs, + Whose fame mayhap hath reached the throne of Zeus. + But this wherewith I'll grace thee ranks the first: + Thou listen, since the Muses like thee well. + + [_Sings_] On me the young Loves sneezed: for hapless I + Am fain of Myrto as the goats of Spring. + But my best friend Aratus inly pines + For one who loves him not. Aristis saw-- + (A wondrous seer is he, whose lute and lay + Shrined Apollo's self would scarce disdain)-- + How love had scorched Aratus to the bone. + O Pan, who hauntest Homole's fair champaign, + Bring the soft charmer, whosoe'er it be, + Unbid to his sweet arms--so, gracious Pan, + May ne'er thy ribs and shoulderblades be lashed + With squills by young Arcadians, whensoe'er + They are scant of supper! But should this my prayer + Mislike thee, then on nettles mayest thou sleep, + Dinted and sore all over from their claws! + Then mayest thou lodge amid Edonian hills + By Hebrus, in midwinter; there subsist, + The Bear thy neighbour: and, in summer, range + With the far AEthiops 'neath the Blemmyan rocks + Where Nile is no more seen! But O ye Loves, + Whose cheeks are like pink apples, quit your homes + By Hyetis, or Byblis' pleasant rill, + Or fair Dione's rocky pedestal, + And strike that fair one with your arrows, strike + The ill-starred damsel who disdains my friend. + And lo, what is she but an o'er-ripe pear? + The girls all cry 'Her bloom is on the wane.' + We'll watch, Aratus, at that porch no more, + Nor waste shoe-leather: let the morning cock + Crow to wake others up to numb despair! + Let Molon, and none else, that ordeal brave: + While we make ease our study, and secure + Some witch, to charm all evil from our door." + + I ceased. He smiling sweetly as before, + Gave me the staff, 'the Muses' parting gift,' + And leftward sloped toward Pyxa. We the while, + Bent us to Phrasydeme's, Eucritus and I, + And baby-faced Amyntas: there we lay + Half-buried in a couch of fragrant reed + And fresh-cut vineleaves, who so glad as we? + A wealth of elm and poplar shook o'erhead; + Hard by, a sacred spring flowed gurgling on + From the Nymphs' grot, and in the sombre boughs + The sweet cicada chirped laboriously. + Hid in the thick thorn-bushes far away + The treefrog's note was heard; the crested lark + Sang with the goldfinch; turtles made their moan, + And o'er the fountain hung the gilded bee. + All of rich summer smacked, of autumn all: + Pears at our feet, and apples at our side + Rolled in luxuriance; branches on the ground + Sprawled, overweighed with damsons; while we brushed + From the cask's head the crust of four long years. + Say, ye who dwell upon Parnassian peaks, + Nymphs of Castalia, did old Chiron e'er + Set before Heracles a cup so brave + In Pholus' cavern--did as nectarous draughts + Cause that Anapian shepherd, in whose hand + Rocks were as pebbles, Polypheme the strong, + Featly to foot it o'er the cottage lawns:-- + As, ladies, ye bid flow that day for us + All by Demeter's shrine at harvest-home? + Beside whose cornstacks may I oft again + Plant my broad fan: while she stands by and smiles, + Poppies and cornsheaves on each laden arm. + + + + +IDYLL VIII. + + +The Triumph of Daphnis. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A GOATHERD_. + + Daphnis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as legend tells, + Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the fells. + Both chins were gilt with coming beards: both lads could sing and play: + Menalcas glanced at Daphnis, and thus was heard to say:-- + "Art thou for singing, Daphnis, lord of the lowing kine? + I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than thine." + Then in his turn spake Daphnis, and thus he made reply: + "O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and high; + But come what will, Menalcas, thou ne'er wilt sing as I." + + MENALCAS. + This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with me? + + DAPHNIS. + This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with thee. + + MENALCAS. + But what, for champions such as we, would, seem a fitting prize? + + DAPHNIS. + I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother's self in size. + + MENALCAS. + A lamb I'll venture never: for aye at close of day + Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are they. + + DAPHNIS. + Then what shall be the victor's fee? What wager wilt thou lay? + + MENALCAS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths I made, full fair to view; + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + I'll risk it: risk my father's own is more than I dare do. + + DAPHNIS. + A pipe discoursing through nine mouths, and fair, hath Daphnis too: + The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. + But yesterday I made it: this finger feels the pain + Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in twain. + But who shall be our umpire? who listen to our strain? + + MENALCAS. + Suppose we hail yon goatherd; him at whose horned herd now + The dog is barking--yonder dog with white upon his brow. + + Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, and up came he; + Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would be. + To shrill Menalcas' lot it fell to start the woodland lay: + Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the way. + + MENALCAS. + "Rivers and vales, a glorious birth! Oh if Menalcas e'er + Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears: + Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young Daphnis fare + No worse, should he stray hither with his steers." + + DAPHNIS. + "Pastures and rills, a bounteous race! If Daphnis sang you e'er + Such songs as ne'er from nightingale have flowed; + Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas share + Like boon, should e'er he wend along this road." + + MENALCAS. + "'Tis spring, 'tis greenness everywhere; with milk the udders teem, + And all things that are young have life anew, + Where my sweet maiden wanders: but parched and withered seem, + When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too." + + DAPHNIS. + "Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are thronged with + bees, + Rises the oak beyond his natural growth, + Where falls my darling's footstep: but hungriness shall seize, + When she departeth, herd and herdsman both." + + MENALCAS. + "Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at thy side, + Where winds the brook by woodlands myriad-deep: + There is _her_ haunt. Go, Stump-horn, tell her how Proteus plied + (A god) the shepherd's trade, with seals for sheep." + + DAPHNIS. + "I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king; + I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze; + But 'neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, and fling + (Still clasping _her_) my carol o'er the seas." + + MENALCAS. + "Storms are the fruit-tree's bane; the brook's, a summer hot and dry; + The stag's a woven net, a gin the dove's; + Mankind's, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere I: + Zeus! Father! hadst not thou thy lady-loves?" + + + Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes rehearst: + Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas first:-- + + MENALCAS. + "O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers spare! + Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care! + What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep? It ill befits a hound, + Tending a boyish master's flock, to slumber over-sound. + And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your fill: + So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding still. + So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder fail: + Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill my pail." + Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a nightingale:-- + + DAPHNIS. + "Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow + Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, "How fair art thou!" + I vow that not one bitter word in answer did I say, + But, looking ever on the ground, went silently my way. + The heifer's voice, the heifer's breath, are passing sweet to me; + And sweet is sleep by summer-brooks upon the breezy lea: + As acorns are the green oak's pride, apples the apple-bough's; + So the cow glorieth in her calf, the cowherd in his cows." + Thus the two lads; then spoke the third, sitting his goats among: + + GOATHERD. + "O Daphnis, lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung; + Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue. + Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And should there be some notes + That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my goats, + I'll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath none: + Day after day she'll fill the can, until the milk o'errun." + + Then how the one lad laughed and leaped and clapped his hands for + glee! + A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as merrily. + And how the other inly burned, struck down by his disgrace! + A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a face. + + Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the country side: + And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his bride. + + + + +IDYLL IX. + + +Pastorals. + +_DAPHNIS. MENALCAS. A SHEPHERD._ + + + SHEPHERD. + A song from Daphnis! Open he the lay, + He open: and Menalcas follow next: + While the calves suck, and with the barren kine + The young bulls graze, or roam knee-deep in leaves, + And ne'er play truant. But a song from thee, + Daphnis--anon Menalcas will reply. + + DAPHNIS. + Sweet is the chorus of the calves and kine, + And sweet the herdsman's pipe. But none may vie + With Daphnis; and a rush-strown bed is mine + Near a cool rill, where carpeted I lie + On fair white goatskins. From a hill-top high + The westwind swept me down the herd entire, + Cropping the strawberries: whence it comes that I + No more heed summer, with his breath of fire, + Than lovers heed the words of mother and of sire. + + Thus Daphnis: and Menalcas answered thus:-- + + MENALCAS. + O AEtna, mother mine! A grotto fair, + Scooped in the rocks, have I: and there I keep + All that in dreams men picture! Treasured there + Are multitudes of she-goats and of sheep, + Swathed in whose wool from top to toe I sleep. + The fire that boils my pot, with oak or beech + Is piled--dry beech-logs when the snow lies deep; + And storm and sunshine, I disdain them each + As toothless sires a nut, when broth is in their reach. + + I clapped applause, and straight produced my gifts: + A staff for Daphnis--'twas the handiwork + Of nature, in my father's acres grown: + Yet might a turner find no fault therewith. + I gave his mate a goodly spiral-shell: + We stalked its inmate on the Icarian rocks + And ate him, parted fivefold among five. + He blew forthwith the trumpet on his shell. + Tell, woodland Muse--and then farewell--what song + I, the chance-comer, sang before those twain. + + SHEPHERD. + Ne'er let a falsehood scarify my tongue! + Crickets with crickets, ants with ants agree, + And hawks with hawks: and music sweetly sung, + Beyond all else, is grateful unto me. + Filled aye with music may my dwelling be! + Not slumber, not the bursting forth of Spring + So charms me, nor the flowers that tempt the bee, + As those sweet Sisters. He, on whom they fling + One gracious glance, is proof to Circe's blandishing. + + + + +IDYLL X. + + +The Two Workmen. + +_MILO. BATTUS._ + + What now, poor o'erworked drudge, is on thy mind? + No more in even swathe thou layest the corn: + Thy fellow-reapers leave thee far behind, + As flocks a ewe that's footsore from a thorn. + By noon and midday what will be thy plight + If now, so soon, thy sickle fails to bite? + + + BATTUS. + Hewn from hard rocks, untired at set of sun, + Milo, didst ne'er regret some absent one? + + MILO. + Not I. What time have workers for regret? + + BATTUS. + Hath love ne'er kept thee from thy slumbers yet? + + MILO. + Nay, heaven forbid! If once the cat taste cream! + + BATTUS. + Milo, these ten days love hath been my dream. + + MILO. + You drain your wine, while vinegar's scarce with me. + + BATTUS. + --Hence since last spring untrimmed my borders be. + + MILO. + And what lass flouts thee? + + BATTUS. + She whom we heard play + Amongst Hippocooen's reapers yesterday. + + MILO. + Your sins have found you out--you're e'en served right: + You'll clasp a corn-crake in your arms all night. + + BATTUS. + You laugh: but headstrong Love is blind no less + Than Plutus: talking big is foolishness. + + MILO. + I talk not big. But lay the corn-ears low + And trill the while some love-song--easier so + Will seem your toil: you used to sing, I know. + + BATTUS. + Maids of Pieria, of my slim lass sing! + One touch of yours ennobles everything. + + [_Sings_] + Fairy Bombyca! thee do men report + Lean, dusk, a gipsy: I alone nut-brown. + Violets and pencilled hyacinths are swart, + Yet first of flowers they're chosen for a crown. + As goats pursue the clover, wolves the goat, + And cranes the ploughman, upon thee I dote. + + Had I but Croesus' wealth, we twain should stand + Gold-sculptured in Love's temple; thou, thy lyre + (Ay or a rose or apple) in thy hand, + I in my brave new shoon and dance-attire. + Fairy Bombyca! twinkling dice thy feet, + Poppies thy lips, thy ways none knows how sweet! + + MILO. + Who dreamed what subtle strains our bumpkin wrought? + How shone the artist in each measured verse! + Fie on the beard that I have grown for naught! + Mark, lad, these lines by glorious Lytierse. + + [_Sings_] + O rich in fruit and cornblade: be this field + Tilled well, Demeter, and fair fruitage yield! + + Bind the sheaves, reapers: lest one, passing, say-- + 'A fig for these, they're never worth their pay.' + + Let the mown swathes look northward, ye who mow, + Or westward--for the ears grow fattest so. + + Avoid a noontide nap, ye threshing men: + The chaff flies thickest from the corn-ears then. + + Wake when the lark wakes; when he slumbers, close + Your work, ye reapers: and at noontide doze. + + Boys, the frogs' life for me! They need not him + Who fills the flagon, for in drink they swim. + + Better boil herbs, thou toiler after gain, + Than, splitting cummin, split thy hand in twain. + + Strains such as these, I trow, befit them well + Who toil and moil when noon is at its height: + Thy meagre love-tale, bumpkin, though shouldst tell + Thy grandam as she wakes up ere 'tis light. + + + + +IDYLL XI. + + +The Giant's Wooing + + + Methinks all nature hath no cure for Love, + Plaster or unguent, Nicias, saving one; + And this is light and pleasant to a man, + Yet hard withal to compass--minstrelsy. + As well thou wottest, being thyself a leech, + And a prime favourite of those Sisters nine. + 'Twas thus our Giant lived a life of ease, + Old Polyphemus, when, the down scarce seen + On lip and chin, he wooed his ocean nymph: + No curlypated rose-and-apple wooer, + But a fell madman, blind to all but love. + Oft from the green grass foldward fared his sheep + Unbid: while he upon the windy beach, + Singing his Galatea, sat and pined + From dawn to dusk, an ulcer at his heart: + Great Aphrodite's shaft had fixed it there. + Yet found he that one cure: he sate him down + On the tall cliff, and seaward looked, and sang:-- + + "White Galatea, why disdain thy love? + White as a pressed cheese, delicate as the lamb, + Wild as the heifer, soft as summer grapes! + If sweet sleep chain me, here thou walk'st at large; + If sweet sleep loose me, straightway thou art gone, + Scared like a sheep that sees the grey wolf near. + I loved thee, maiden, when thou cam'st long since, + To pluck the hyacinth-blossom on the fell, + Thou and my mother, piloted by me. + I saw thee, see thee still, from that day forth + For ever; but 'tis naught, ay naught, to thee. + I know, sweet maiden, why thou art so coy: + Shaggy and huge, a single eyebrow spans + From ear to ear my forehead, whence one eye + Gleams, and an o'erbroad nostril tops my lip. + Yet I, this monster, feed a thousand sheep + That yield me sweetest draughts at milking-tide: + In summer, autumn, or midwinter, still + Fails not my cheese; my milkpail aye o'erflows. + Then I can pipe as ne'er did Giant yet, + Singing our loves--ours, honey, thine and mine-- + At dead of night: and hinds I rear eleven + (Each with her fawn) and bearcubs four, for thee. + Oh come to me--thou shalt not rue the day-- + And let the mad seas beat against the shore! + 'Twere sweet to haunt my cave the livelong night: + Laurel, and cypress tall, and ivy dun, + And vines of sumptuous fruitage, all are there: + And a cold spring that pine-clad AEtna flings + Down from, the white snow's midst, a draught for gods! + Who would not change for this the ocean-waves? + + "But thou mislik'st my hair? Well, oaken logs + Are here, and embers yet aglow with fire. + Burn (if thou wilt) my heart out, and mine eye, + Mine only eye wherein is my delight. + Oh why was I not born a finny thing, + To float unto thy side and kiss thy hand, + Denied thy lips--and bring thee lilies white + And crimson-petalled poppies' dainty bloom! + Nay--summer hath his flowers and autumn his; + I could not bring all these the selfsame day. + Lo, should some mariner hither oar his road, + Sweet, he shall teach me straightway how to swim, + That haply I may learn what bliss ye find + In your sea-homes. O Galatea, come + Forth from yon waves, and coming forth forget + (As I do, sitting here) to get thee home: + And feed my flocks and milk them, nothing loth, + And pour the rennet in to fix my cheese! + + "The blame's my mother's; she is false to me; + Spake thee ne'er yet one sweet word for my sake, + Though day by day she sees me pine and pine. + I'll feign strange throbbings in my head and feet + To anguish her--as I am anguished now." + + O Cyclops, Cyclops, where are flown thy wits? + Go plait rush-baskets, lop the olive-boughs + To feed thy lambkins--'twere the shrewder part. + Chase not the recreant, milk the willing ewe: + The world hath Galateas fairer yet. + + "--Many a fair damsel bids me sport with her + The livelong night, and smiles if I give ear. + On land at least I still am somebody." + + Thus did the Giant feed his love on song, + And gained more ease than may be bought with gold. + + + + +IDYLL XII. + +The Comrades + + Thou art come, lad, come! Scarce thrice hath dusk to day + Given place--but lovers in an hour grow gray. + As spring's more sweet than winter, grapes than thorns, + The ewe's fleece richer than her latest-born's; + As young girls' charms the thrice-wed wife's outshine, + As fawns are lither than the ungainly kine, + Or as the nightingale's clear notes outvie + The mingled music of all birds that fly; + So at thy coming passing glad was I. + I ran to greet thee e'en as pilgrims run + To beechen shadows from the scorching sun: + Oh if on us accordant Loves would breathe, + And our two names to future years bequeath! + + 'These twain'--let men say--'lived in olden days. + This was a _yokel_ (in their country-phrase), + That was his _mate_ (so talked these simple folk): + And lovingly they bore a mutual yoke. + The hearts of men were made of sterling gold, + When troth met troth, in those brave days of old,' + + O Zeus, O gods who age not nor decay! + Let e'en two hundred ages roll away, + But at the last these tidings let me learn, + Borne o'er the fatal pool whence none return:-- + "By every tongue thy constancy is sung, + Thine and thy favourite's--chiefly by the young." + But lo, the future is in heaven's high hand: + Meanwhile thy graces all my praise demand, + Not false lip-praise, not idly bubbling froth-- + For though thy wrath be kindled, e'en thy wrath + Hath no sting in it: doubly I am caressed, + And go my way repaid with interest. + + Oarsmen of Megara, ruled by Nisus erst! + Yours be all bliss, because ye honoured first + That true child-lover, Attic Diocles. + Around his gravestone with the first spring-breeze + Flock the bairns all, to win the kissing-prize: + And whoso sweetliest lip to lip applies + Goes crown-clad home to its mother. Blest is he + Who in such strife is named the referee: + To brightfaced Ganymede full oft he'll cry + To lend his lip the potencies that lie + Within that stone with which the usurers + Detect base metal, and which never errs. + + + + +IDYLL XIII. + + +Hylas. + + Not for us only, Nicias, (vain the dream,) + Sprung from what god soe'er, was Eros born: + Not to us only grace doth graceful seem, + Frail things who wot not of the coming morn. + No--for Amphitryon's iron-hearted son, + Who braved the lion, was the slave of one:-- + + A fair curled creature, Hylas was his name. + He taught him, as a father might his child, + All songs whereby himself had risen to fame; + Nor ever from his side would be beguiled + When noon was high, nor when white steeds convey + Back to heaven's gates the chariot of the day, + + Nor when the hen's shrill brood becomes aware + Of bed-time, as the mother's flapping wings + Shadow the dust-browned beam. 'Twas all his care + To shape unto his own imaginings + And to the harness train his favourite youth, + Till he became a man in very truth. + + Meanwhile, when kingly Jason steered in quest + Of the Gold Fleece, and chieftains at his side + Chosen from all cities, proffering each her best, + To rich Iolchos came that warrior tried, + And joined him unto trim-built Argo's crew; + And with Alcmena's son came Hylas too. + + Through the great gulf shot Argo like a bird-- + And by-and-bye reached Phasis, ne'er o'erta'en + By those in-rushing rocks, that have not stirred + Since then, but bask, twin monsters, on the main. + But now, when waned the spring, and lambs were fed + In far-off fields, and Pleiads gleamed overhead, + + That cream and flower of knighthood looked to sail. + They came, within broad Argo safely stowed, + (When for three days had blown the southern gale) + To Hellespont, and in Propontis rode + At anchor, where Cianian oxen now + Broaden the furrows with the busy plough. + + They leapt ashore, and, keeping rank, prepared + Their evening meal: a grassy meadow spread + Before their eyes, and many a warrior shared + (Thanks to its verdurous stores) one lowly bed. + And while they cut tall marigolds from their stem + And sworded bulrush, Hylas slipt from them. + + Water the fair lad wont to seek and bring + To Heracles and stalwart Telamon, + (The comrades aye partook each other's fare,) + Bearing a brazen pitcher. And anon, + Where the ground dipt, a fountain he espied, + And rushes growing green about its side. + + There rose the sea-blue swallow-wort, and there + The pale-hued maidenhair, with parsley green + And vagrant marsh-flowers; and a revel rare + In the pool's midst the water-nymphs were seen + To hold, those maidens of unslumbrous eyes + Whom the belated peasant sees and flies. + + And fast did Malis and Eunica cling, + And young Nychea with her April face, + To the lad's hand, as stooping o'er the spring + He dipt his pitcher. For the young Greek's grace + Made their soft senses reel; and down he fell, + All of a sudden, into that black well. + + So drops a red star suddenly from sky + To sea--and quoth some sailor to his mate: + "Up with the tackle, boy! the breeze is high." + Him the nymphs pillowed, all disconsolate, + On their sweet laps, and with soft words beguiled; + But Heracles was troubled for the child. + + Forth went he; Scythian-wise his bow he bore + And the great club that never quits his side; + And thrice called 'Hylas'--ne'er came lustier roar + From that deep chest. Thrice Hylas heard and tried + To answer, but in tones you scarce might hear; + The water made them distant though so near. + + And as a lion, when he hears the bleat + Of fawns among the mountains far away, + A murderous lion, and with hurrying feet + Bounds from his lair to his predestined prey: + So plunged the strong man in the untrodden brake-- + (Lovers are maniacs)--for his darling's sake. + + He scoured far fields--what hill or oaken glen + Remembers not that pilgrimage of pain? + His troth to Jason was forgotten then. + Long time the good ship tarried for those twain + With hoisted sails; night came and still they cleared + The hatches, but no Heracles appeared. + + On he was wandering, reckless where he trod, + So mad a passion on his vitals preyed: + While Hylas had become a blessed god. + But the crew cursed the runaway who had stayed + Sixty good oars, and left him there to reach + Afoot bleak Phasis and the Colchian beach. + + + + +IDYLL XIV. + + +The Love of AEschines. + +_THYONICHUS. AESCHINES._ + + AESCHINES. + Hail, sir Thyonichus. + + THYONICHUS. + AEschines, to you. + + AESCHINES. + I have missed thee. + + THYONICHUS. + Missed me! Why what ails him now? + + AESCHINES. + My friend, I am ill at ease. + + THYONICHUS. + Then this explains + Thy leanness, and thy prodigal moustache + And dried-up curls. Thy counterpart I saw, + A wan Pythagorean, yesterday. + He said he came from Athens: shoes he had none: + He pined, I'll warrant,--for a quartern loaf. + + AESCHINES. + Sir, you will joke--But I've been outraged, sore, + And by Cynisca. I shall go stark mad + Ere you suspect--a hair would turn the scale. + + THYONICHUS. + Such thou wert always, AEschines my friend. + In lazy mood or trenchant, at thy whim + The world must wag. But what's thy grievance now? + + AESCHINES. + That Argive, Apis the Thessalian Knight, + Myself, and gallant Cleonicus, supped + Within my grounds. Two pullets I had slain, + And a prime pig: and broached my Biblian wine; + 'Twas four years old, but fragrant as when new. + Truffles were served to us: and the drink was good. + Well, we got on, and each must drain a cup + To whom he fancied; only each must name. + We named, and took our liquor as ordained; + But she sate silent--this before my face. + Fancy my feelings! "Wilt not speak? Hast seen + A wolf?" some wag said. "Shrewdly guessed," quoth she, + And blushed--her blushes might have fired a torch. + A wolf _had_ charmed her: Wolf her neighbour's son, + Goodly and tall, and fair in divers eyes: + For his illustrious sake it was she pined. + This had been breathed, just idly, in my ear: + Shame on my beard, I ne'er pursued the hint. + Well, when we four were deep amid our cups, + The Knight must sing 'The Wolf' (a local song) + Right through for mischief. All at once she wept + Hot tears as girls of six years old might weep, + Clinging and clamouring round their mother's lap. + And I, (you know my humour, friend of mine,) + Drove at his face, one, two! She gathered up + Her robes and vanished straightway through the door. + "And so I fail to please, false lady mine? + Another lies more welcome in thy lap? + Go warm that other's heart: he'll say thy tears + Are liquid pearls." And as a swallow flies + Forth in a hurry, here or there to find + A mouthful for her brood among the eaves: + From her soft sofa passing-swift she fled + Through folding-doors and hall, with random feet: + _'The stag had gained his heath':_ you know the rest. + Three weeks, a month, nine days and ten to that, + To-day's the eleventh: and 'tis just two months + All but two days, since she and I were two. + Hence is my beard of more than Thracian growth. + Now Wolf is all to her: Wolf enters in + At midnight; I am a cypher in her eyes; + The poor Megarian, nowhere in the race. + All would go right, if I could once _unlove_: + But now, you wot, the rat hath tasted tar. + And what may cure a swain at his wit's end + I know not: Simus, (true,) a mate of mine, + Loved Epichalcus' daughter, and took ship + And came home cured. I too will sail the seas. + Worse men, it may be better, are afloat, + I shall still prove an average man-at-arms. + + THYONICHUS. + Now may thy love run smoothly, AEschines! + But should'st thou really mean a voyage out, + The freeman's best paymaster's Ptolemy. + + AESCHINES. + What is he else? + + THYONICHUS. + A gentleman: a man + Of wit and taste; the top of company; + Loyal to ladies; one whose eye is keen + For friends, and keener still for enemies. + Large in his bounties, he, in kingly sort, + Denies a boon to none: but, AEschines, + One should not ask too often. This premised, + If thou wilt clasp the military cloak + O'er thy right shoulder, and with legs astride + Await the onward rush of shielded men: + Hie thee to Egypt. Age overtakes us all; + Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin, + Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time. + Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere. + + + + +IDYLL XV. + + +The Festival of Adonis. + +_GORGO. PRAXINOAe._ + + GORGO. + Praxinoae in? + + PRAXINOAe. + Yes, Gorgo dear! At last! + That you're here now's a marvel! See to a chair, + A cushion, Eunoae! + + GORGO. + I lack naught. + + PRAXINOAe. + Sit down. + + GORGO. + Oh, what a thing is spirit! Here I am, + Praxinoae, safe at last from all that crowd + And all those chariots--every street a mass + Of boots and uniforms! And the road, my dear, + Seemed endless--you live now so far away! + + PRAXINOAe. + This land's-end den--I cannot call it house-- + My madcap hired to keep us twain apart + And stir up strife. 'Twas like him, odious pest! + + GORGO. + Nay call not, dear, your lord, your Deinon, names + To the babe's face. Look how it stares at you! + There, baby dear, she never meant Papa! + It understands, by'r lady! Dear Papa! + + PRAXINOAe. + Well, yesterday (that means what day you like) + 'Papa' had rouge and hair-powder to buy; + He brought back salt! this oaf of six-foot-one! + + GORGO. + Just such another is that pickpocket + My Diocleides. He bought t'other day + Six fleeces at seven drachms, his last exploit. + What were they? scraps of worn-out pedlar's-bags, + Sheer trash.--But put your cloak and mantle on; + And we'll to Ptolemy's, the sumptuous king, + To see the _Adonis_. As I hear, the queen + Provides us something gorgeous. + + PRAXINOAe. + Ay, the grand + Can do things grandly. + + GORGO. + When you've seen yourself, + What tales you'll have to tell to those who've not. + 'Twere time we started! + + PRAXINOAe. + All time's holiday + With idlers! Eunoae, pampered minx, the jug! + Set it down here--you cats would sleep all day + On cushions--Stir yourself, fetch water, quick! + Water's our first want. How she holds the jug! + Now, pour--not, cormorant, in that wasteful way-- + You've drenched my dress, bad luck t'you! There, enough: + I have made such toilet as my fates allowed. + Now for the key o' the plate-chest. Bring it, quick! + + GORGO. + My dear, that full pelisse becomes you well. + What did it stand you in, straight off the loom? + + PRAXINOAe. + Don't ask me, Gorgo: two good pounds and more. + Then I gave all my mind to trimming it. + + GORGO. + Well, 'tis a great success. + + PRAXINOAe. + I think it is. + My mantle, Eunoae, and my parasol! + Arrange me nicely. Babe, you'll bide at home! + Horses would bite you--Boo!--Yes, cry your fill, + But we won't have you maimed. Now let's be off. + You, Phrygia, take and nurse the tiny thing: + Call the dog in: make fast the outer door! + + [_Exeunt_. + + Gods! what a crowd! How, when shall we get past + This nuisance, these unending ant-like swarms? + Yet, Ptolemy, we owe thee thanks for much + Since heaven received thy sire! No miscreant now + Creeps Thug-like up, to maul the passer-by. + What games men played erewhile--men shaped in crime, + Birds of a feather, rascals every one! + --We're done for, Gorgo darling--here they are, + The Royal horse! Sweet sir, don't trample me! + That bay--the savage!--reared up straight on end! + Fly, Eunoae, can't you? Doggedly she stands. + He'll be his rider's death!--How glad I am + My babe's at home. + + GORGO. + Praxinoae, never mind! + See, we're before them now, and they're in line. + + PRAXINOAe. + There, I'm myself. But from a child I feared + Horses, and slimy snakes. But haste we on: + A surging multitude is close behind. + + GORGO [_to Old Lady_]. + From the palace, mother? + + OLD LADY. + Ay, child. + + GORGO. + Is it fair + Of access? + + OLD LADY. + Trying brought the Greeks to Troy. + Young ladies, they must try who would succeed. + + GORGO. + The crone hath said her oracle and gone. + Women know all--how Adam married Eve. + --Praxinoae, look what crowds are round the door! + + PRAXINOAe. + Fearful! Your hand, please, Gorgo. Eunoae, you + Hold Eutychis--hold tight or you'll be lost. + We'll enter in a body--hold us fast! + Oh dear, my muslin dress is torn in two, + Gorgo, already! Pray, good gentleman, + (And happiness be yours) respect my robe! + + STRANGER. + I could not if I would--nathless I will. + + PRAXINOAe. + They come in hundreds, and they push like swine. + + STRANGER. + Lady, take courage: it is all well now. + + PRAXINOAe. + And now and ever be it well with thee, + Sweet man, for shielding us! An honest soul + And kindly. Oh! they're smothering Eunoae: + Push, coward! That's right! 'All in,' the bridegroom said + And locked the door upon himself and bride. + + GORGO. + Praxinoae, look! Note well this broidery first. + How exquisitely fine--too good for earth! + Empress Athene, what strange sempstress wrought + Such work? What painter painted, realized + Such pictures? Just like life they stand or move, + Facts and not fancies! What a thing is man! + How bright, how lifelike on his silvern couch + Lies, with youth's bloom scarce shadowing his cheek, + That dear Adonis, lovely e'en in death! + + A STRANGER. + Bad luck t'you, cease your senseless pigeon's prate! + Their brogue is killing--every word a drawl! + + GORGO. + Where did he spring from? Is our prattle aught + To you, Sir? Order your own slaves about: + You're ordering Syracusan ladies now! + + Corinthians bred (to tell you one fact more) + As was Bellerophon: islanders in speech, + For Dorians may talk Doric, I presume? + + PRAXINOAe. + Persephone! none lords it over me, + Save one! No scullion's-wage for us from _you_! + + GORGO. + Hush, dear. The Argive's daughter's going to sing + _The Adonis_: that accomplished vocalist + Who has no rival in "_The Sailor's Grave_." + Observe her attitudinizing now. + + _Song_. + Queen, who lov'st Golgi and the Sicel hill + And Ida; Aphrodite radiant-eyed; + The stealthy-footed Hours from Acheron's rill + Brought once again Adonis to thy side + How changed in twelve short months! They travel slow, + Those precious Hours: we hail their advent still, + For blessings do they bring to all below. + O Sea-born! thou didst erst, or legend lies, + Shed on a woman's soul thy grace benign, + And Berenice's dust immortalize. + O called by many names, at many a shrine! + For thy sweet sake doth Berenice's child + (Herself a second Helen) deck with all + That's fair, Adonis. On his right are piled + Ripe apples fallen from the oak-tree tall; + And silver caskets at his left support + Toy-gardens, Syrian scents enshrined in gold + And alabaster, cakes of every sort + That in their ovens the pastrywomen mould, + When with white meal they mix all flowers that bloom, + Oil-cakes and honey-cakes. There stand portrayed + Each bird, each butterfly; and in the gloom + Of foliage climbing high, and downward weighed + By graceful blossoms, do the young Loves play + Like nightingales, and perch on every tree, + And flit, to try their wings, from spray to spray. + Then see the gold, the ebony! Only see + The ivory-carven eagles, bearing up + To Zeus the boy who fills his royal cup! + Soft as a dream, such tapestry gleams o'erhead + As the Milesian's self would gaze on, charmed. + But sweet Adonis hath his own sweet bed: + Next Aphrodite sleeps the roseate-armed, + A bridegroom of eighteen or nineteen years. + Kiss the smooth boyish lip--there's no sting there! + The bride hath found her own: all bliss be hers! + And him at dewy dawn we'll troop to bear + Down where the breakers hiss against the shore: + There, with dishevelled dress and unbound hair, + Bare-bosomed all, our descant wild we'll pour: + + "Thou haunt'st, Adonis, earth and heaven in turn, + Alone of heroes. Agamemnon ne'er + Could compass this, nor Aias stout and stern: + Not Hector, eldest-born of her who bare + Ten sons, not Patrocles, nor safe-returned + From Ilion Pyrrhus, such distinction earned: + Nor, elder yet, the Lapithae, the sons + Of Pelops and Deucalion; or the crown + Of Greece, Pelasgians. Gracious may'st thou be, + Adonis, now: pour new-year's blessings down! + Right welcome dost thou come, Adonis dear: + Come when thou wilt, thou'lt find a welcome here." + + GORGO. + 'Tis fine, Praxinoae! How I envy her + Her learning, and still more her luscious voice! + We must go home: my husband's supperless: + And, in that state, the man's just vinegar. + Don't cross his path when hungry! So farewell, + Adonis, and be housed 'mid welfare aye! + + + + +IDYLL XVI. + + +The Value of Song. + + What fires the Muse's, what the minstrel's lays? + Hers some immortal's, ours some hero's praise, + Heaven is her theme, as heavenly was her birth: + We, of earth earthy, sing the sons of earth. + Yet who, of all that see the gray morn rise, + Lifts not his latch and hails with eager eyes + My Songs, yet sends them guerdonless away? + Barefoot and angry homeward journey they, + Taunt him who sent them on that idle quest, + Then crouch them deep within their empty chest, + (When wageless they return, their dismal bed) + And hide on their chill knees once more their patient head. + Where are those good old times? Who thanks us, who, + For our good word? Men list not now to do + Great deeds and worthy of the minstrel's verse: + Vassals of gain, their hand is on their purse, + Their eyes on lucre: ne'er a rusty nail + They'll give in kindness; this being aye their tale:-- + + "Kin before kith; to prosper is my prayer; + Poets, we know, are heaven's peculiar care. + We've Homer; and what other's worth a thought? + I call him chief of bards who costs me naught." + + Yet what if all your chests with gold are lined? + Is this enjoying wealth? Oh fools and blind! + Part on your heart's desire, on minstrels spend + Part; and your kindred and your kind befriend: + And daily to the gods bid altar-fires ascend. + Nor be ye churlish hosts, but glad the heart + Of guests with wine, when they must needs depart: + And reverence most the priests of sacred song: + So, when hell hides you, shall your names live long; + Not doomed to wail on Acheron's sunless sands, + Like some poor hind, the inward of whose hands + The spade hath gnarled and knotted, born to groan, + Poor sire's poor offspring, hapless Penury's own! + + Their monthly dole erewhile unnumbered thralls + Sought in Antiochus', in Aleuas' halls; + On to the Scopadae's byres in endless line + The calves ran lowing with the horned kine; + And, marshalled by the good Creondae's swains + Myriads of choice sheep basked on Cranron's plains. + Yet had their joyaunce ended, on the day + When their sweet spirit dispossessed its clay, + To hated Acheron's ample barge resigned. + Nameless, their stored-up luxury left behind, + With the lorn dead through ages had they lain, + Had not a minstrel bade them live again:-- + Had not in woven words the Ceian sire + Holding sweet converse with his full-toned lyre + Made even their swift steeds for aye renowned, + When from the sacred lists they came home crowned. + Forgot were Lycia's chiefs, and Hector's hair + Of gold, and Cycnus femininely fair; + But that bards bring old battles back to mind. + Odysseus--he who roamed amongst mankind + A hundred years and more, reached utmost hell + Alive, and 'scaped the giant's hideous cell-- + Had lived and died: Eumaeus and his swine; + Philoetius, busy with his herded kine; + And great Laertes' self, had passed away, + Were not their names preserved in Homer's lay. + Through song alone may man true glory taste; + The dead man's riches his survivors waste. + + But count the waves, with yon gray wind-swept main + Borne shoreward: from a red brick wash his stain + In some pool's violet depths: 'twill task thee yet + To reach the heart on baleful avarice set. + To such I say 'Fare well': let theirs be store + Of wealth; but let them always crave for more: + Horses and mules inferior things _I_ find + To the esteem and love of all mankind. + + But to what mortal's roof may I repair, + I and my Muse, and find a welcome there? + I and my Muse: for minstrels fare but ill, + Reft of those maids, who know the mightiest's will. + The cycle of the years, it flags not yet; + In many a chariot many a steed shall sweat: + And one, to manhood grown, my lays shall claim, + Whose deeds shall rival great Achilles' fame, + Who from stout Aias might have won the prize + On Simois' plain, where Phrygian Ilus lies. + Now, in their sunset home on Libya's heel, + Phoenicia's sons unwonted chillness feel: + Now, with his targe of willow at his breast, + The Syracusan bears his spear in rest, + Amongst these Hiero arms him for the war, + Eager to fight as warriors fought of yore; + The plumes float darkling o'er his helmed brow. + O Zeus, the sire most glorious; and O thou, + Empress Athene; and thou, damsel fair, + Who with thy mother wast decreed to bear + Rule o'er rich Corinth, o'er that city of pride + Beside whose walls Anapus' waters glide:-- + May ill winds waft across the Southern sea + (Of late a legion, now but two or three,) + Far from our isle, our foes; the doom to tell, + To wife and child, of those they loved so well; + While the old race enjoy once more the lands + Spoiled and insulted erst by alien hands! + + And fair and fruitful may their cornlands be! + Their flocks in thousands bleat upon the lea, + Fat and full-fed; their kine, as home they wind, + The lagging traveller of his rest remind! + With might and main their fallows let them till: + Till comes the seedtime, and cicalas trill + (Hid from the toilers of the hot midday + In the thick leafage) on the topmost spray! + O'er shield and spear their webs let spiders spin, + And none so much as name the battle-din! + Then Hiero's lofty deeds may minstrels bear + Beyond the Scythian ocean-main, and where + Within those ample walls, with asphalt made + Time-proof, Semiramis her empire swayed. + I am but a single voice: but many a bard + Beside me do those heavenly maids regard: + May those all love to sing, 'mid earth's acclaim, + Of Sicel Arethuse, and Hiero's fame. + + O Graces, royal nurselings, who hold dear + The Minyae's city, once the Theban's fear: + Unbidden I tarry, whither bidden I fare + My Muse my comrade. And be ye too there, + Sisters divine! Were ye and song forgot, + What grace had earth? With you be aye my lot! + + + + +IDYLL XVII. + + +The Praise of Ptolemy. + + With Zeus begin, sweet sisters, end with Zeus, + When ye would sing the sovereign of the skies: + But first among mankind rank Ptolemy; + First, last, and midmost; being past compare. + Those mighty ones of old, half men half gods, + Wrought deeds that shine in many a subtle strain; + I, no unpractised minstrel, sing but him; + Divinest ears disdain not minstrelsy. + But as a woodman sees green Ida rise + Pine above pine, and ponders which to fell + First of those myriads; even so I pause + Where to begin the chapter of his praise: + For thousand and ten thousand are the gifts + Wherewith high heaven hath graced the kingliest king. + + Was not he born to compass noblest ends, + Lagus' own son, so soon as he matured + Schemes such as ne'er had dawned on meaner minds? + Zeus doth esteem him as the blessed gods; + In the sire's courts his golden mansion stands. + And near him Alexander sits and smiles, + The turbaned Persian's dread; and, fronting both, + Rises the stedfast adamantine seat + Erst fashioned for the bull-slayer Heracles. + Who there holds revels with his heavenly mates, + And sees, with joy exceeding, children rise + On children; for that Zeus exempts from age + And death their frames who sprang from Heracles: + And Ptolemy, like Alexander, claims + From him; his gallant son their common sire. + And when, the banquet o'er, the Strong Man wends, + Cloyed with rich nectar, home unto his wife, + This kinsman hath in charge his cherished shafts + And bow; and that his gnarled and knotted club; + And both to white-limbed Hebe's bower of bliss + Convoy the bearded warrior and his arms. + + Then how among wise ladies--blest the pair + That reared her!--peerless Berenice shone! + Dione's sacred child, the Cyprian queen, + O'er that sweet bosom passed her taper hands: + And hence, 'tis said, no man loved woman e'er + As Ptolemy loved her. She o'er-repaid + His love; so, nothing doubting, he could leave + His substance in his loyal children's care, + And rest with her, fond husband with fond wife. + She that loves not bears sons, but all unlike + Their father: for her heart was otherwhere. + + O Aphrodite, matchless e'en in heaven + For beauty, thou didst love her; wouldst not let + Thy Berenice cross the wailful waves: + But thy hand snatched her--to the blue lake bound + Else, and the dead's grim ferryman--and enshrined + With thee, to share thy honours. There she sits, + To mortals ever kind, and passion soft + Inspires, and makes the lover's burden light. + The dark-browed Argive, linked with Tydeus, bare + Diomed the slayer, famed in Calydon: + And deep-veiled Thetis unto Peleus gave + The javelineer Achilles. Thou wast born + Of Berenice, Ptolemy by name + And by descent, a warrior's warrior child. + Cos from its mother's arms her babe received, + Its destined nursery, on its natal day: + 'Twas there Antigone's daughter in her pangs + Cried to the goddess that could bid them cease: + Who soon was at her side, and lo! her limbs + Forgat their anguish, and a child was born + Fair, its sire's self. Cos saw, and shouted loud; + Handled the babe all tenderly, and spake: + + "Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus doth + His azure-sphered Delos: grace the hill + Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores, + As king Apollo his Rhenaea's isle." + + So spake the isle. An eagle high overhead + Poised in the clouds screamed thrice, the prophet-bird + Of Zeus, and sent by him. For awful kings + All are his care, those chiefliest on whose birth + He smiled: exceeding glory waits on them: + Theirs is the sovereignty of land and sea. + But if a myriad realms spread far and wide + O'er earth, if myriad nations till the soil + To which heaven's rain gives increase: yet what land + Is green as low-lying Egypt, when the Nile + Wells forth and piecemeal breaks the sodden glebe? + Where are like cities, peopled by like men? + Lo he hath seen three hundred towns arise, + Three thousand, yea three myriad; and o'er all + He rules, the prince of heroes, Ptolemy. + Claims half Phoenicia, and half Araby, + Syria and Libya, and the AEthiops murk; + Sways the Pamphylian and Cilician braves, + The Lycian and the Carian trained to war, + And all the isles: for never fleet like his + Rode upon ocean: land and sea alike + And sounding rivers hail king Ptolemy. + Many are his horsemen, many his targeteers, + Whose burdened breast is bright with clashing steel: + Light are all royal treasuries, weighed with his. + For wealth from all climes travels day by day + To his rich realm, a hive of prosperous peace. + No foeman's tramp scares monster-peopled Nile, + Waking to war her far-off villages: + No armed robber from his war-ship leaps + To spoil the herds of Egypt. Such a prince + Sits throned in her broad plains, in whose right arm + Quivers the spear, the bright-haired Ptolemy. + Like a true king, he guards with might and main + The wealth his sires' arm won him and his own. + Nor strown all idly o'er his sumptuous halls + Lie piles that seem the work of labouring ants. + The holy homes of gods are rich therewith; + Theirs are the firstfruits, earnest aye of more. + And freely mighty kings thereof partake, + Freely great cities, freely honoured friends. + None entered e'er the sacred lists of song, + Whose lips could breathe sweet music, but he gained + Fair guerdon at the hand of Ptolemy. + And Ptolemy do music's votaries hymn + For his good gifts--hath man a fairer lot + Than to have earned much fame among mankind? + The Atridae's name abides, while all the wealth + Won from the sack of Priam's stately home + A mist closed o'er it, to be seen no more. + Ptolemy, he only, treads a path whose dust + Burns with the footprints of his ancestors, + And overlays those footprints with his own. + He raised rich shrines to mother and to sire, + There reared their forms in ivory and gold, + Passing in beauty, to befriend mankind. + Thighs of fat oxen oftentimes he burns + On crimsoning altars, as the months roll on, + Ay he and his staunch wife. No fairer bride + E'er clasped her lord in royal palaces: + And her heart's love her brother-husband won. + In such blest union joined the immortal pair + Whom queenly Rhea bore, and heaven obeys: + One couch the maiden of the rainbow decks + With myrrh-dipt hands for Hera and for Zeus. + + Now farewell, prince! I rank thee aye with gods: + And read this lesson to the afterdays, + Mayhap they'll prize it: 'Honour is of Zeus.' + + + + +IDYLL XVIII. + + +The Bridal of Helen. + + Whilom, in Lacedaemon, + Tript many a maiden fair + To gold-tressed Menelaus' halls, + With hyacinths in her hair: + Twelve to the Painted Chamber, + The queenliest in the land, + The clustered loveliness of Greece, + Came dancing hand in hand. + For Helen, Tyndarus' daughter, + Had just been wooed and won, + Helen the darling of the world, + By Atreus' younger son: + With woven steps they beat the floor + In unison, and sang + Their bridal-hymn of triumph + Till all the palace rang. + + "Slumberest so soon, sweet bridegroom? + Art thou o'erfond of sleep? + Or hast thou leadenweighted limbs? + Or hadst thou drunk too deep + When thou didst fling thee to thy lair? + Betimes thou should'st have sped, + If sleep were all thy purpose, + Unto thy bachelor's bed: + And left her in her mother's arms + To nestle, and to play + A girl among her girlish mates + Till deep into the day:-- + For not alone for this night, + Nor for the next alone, + But through the days and through the years + Thou hast her for thine own. + + "Nay! heaven, O happy bridegroom, + Smiled as thou enteredst in + To Sparta, like thy brother kings, + And told thee thou should'st win! + What hero son-in-law of Zeus + Hath e'er aspired to be? + Yet lo! one coverlet enfolds + The child of Zeus, and thee. + Ne'er did a thing so lovely + Roam the Achaian lea. + + "And who shall match her offspring, + If babes are like their mother? + For we were playmates once, and ran + And raced with one another + (All varnished, warrior fashion) + Along Eurotas' tide, + Thrice eighty gentle maidens, + Each in her girlhood's pride: + Yet none of all seemed faultless, + If placed by Helen's side. + + "As peers the nascent Morning + Over thy shades, O Night, + When Winter disenchains the land, + And Spring goes forth in white: + So Helen shone above us, + All loveliness and light. + + "As climbs aloft some cypress, + Garden or glade to grace; + As the Thessalian courser lends + A lustre to the race: + So bright o'er Lacedaemon + Shone Helen's rosebud face. + + "And who into the basket e'er + The yarn so deftly drew, + Or through the mazes of the web + So well the shuttle threw, + And severed from the framework + As closelywov'n a warp:-- + And who could wake with masterhand + Such music from the harp, + To broadlimbed Pallas tuning + And Artemis her lay-- + As Helen, Helen in whose eyes + The Loves for ever play? + + "O bright, O beautiful, for thee + Are matron-cares begun. + We to green paths and blossomed meads + With dawn of morn must run, + And cull a breathing chaplet; + And still our dream shall be, + Helen, of thee, as weanling lambs + Yearn in the pasture for the dams + That nursed their infancy. + + "For thee the lowly lotus-bed + We'll spoil, and plait a crown + To hang upon the shadowy plane; + For thee will we drop down + ('Neath that same shadowy platan) + Oil from our silver urn; + And carven on the bark shall be + This sentence, 'HALLOW HELEN'S TREE'; + In Dorian letters, legibly + For all men to discern. + + "Now farewell, bride, and bridegroom + Blest in thy new-found sire! + May Leto, mother of the brave, + Bring babes at your desire, + And holy Cypris either's breast + With mutual transport fire: + And Zeus the son of Cronos + Grant blessings without end, + From princely sire to princely son + For ever to descend. + + "Sleep on, and love and longing + Breathe in each other's breast; + But fail not when the morn returns + To rouse you from your rest: + With dawn shall we be stirring, + When, lifting high his fair + And feathered neck, the earliest bird + To clarion to the dawn is heard. + O god of brides and bridals, + Sing 'Happy, happy pair!'" + + + + +IDYLL XIX. + + +Love Stealing Honey. + + Once thievish Love the honeyed hives would rob, + When a bee stung him: soon he felt a throb + Through all his finger-tips, and, wild with pain, + Blew on his hands and stamped and jumped in vain. + To Aphrodite then he told his woe: + 'How can a thing so tiny hurt one so?' + She smiled and said; 'Why thou'rt a tiny thing, + As is the bee; yet sorely thou canst sting.' + + + + +IDYLL XX. + + +Town and Country + + Once I would kiss Eunice. "Back," quoth she, + And screamed and stormed; "a sorry clown kiss me? + Your country compliments, I like not such; + No lips but gentles' would I deign to touch. + Ne'er dream of kissing me: alike I shun + Your face, your language, and your tigerish fun. + How winning are your tones, how fine your air! + Your beard how silken and how sweet your hair! + Pah! you've a sick man's lips, a blackamoor's hand: + Your breath's defilement. Leave me, I command." + + Thrice spat she on her robe, and, muttering low, + Scanned me, with half-shut eyes, from top to toe: + Brought all her woman's witcheries into play, + Still smiling in a set sarcastic way, + Till my blood boiled, my visage crimson grew + With indignation, as a rose with dew: + And so she left me, inly to repine + That such as she could flout such charms as mine. + + O shepherds, tell me true! Am I not fair? + Am I transformed? For lately I did wear + Grace as a garment; and my cheeks, o'er them + Ran the rich growth like ivy round the stem. + Like fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed; + O'er my dark eyebrows, white my forehead gleamed: + My eyes were of Athene's radiant blue, + My mouth was milk, its accents honeydew. + Then I could sing--my tones were soft indeed!-- + To pipe or flute or flageolet or reed: + And me did every maid that roams the fell + Kiss and call fair: not so this city belle. + She scorns the herdsman; knows not how divine + Bacchus ranged once the valleys with his kine; + How Cypris, maddened for a herdsman's sake, + Deigned upon Phrygia's mountains to partake + His cares: and wooed, and wept, Adonis in the brake. + What was Endymion, sweet Selene's love? + A herdsman's lad. Yet came she from above, + Down to green Latmos, by his side to sleep. + And did not Rhea for a herdsman weep? + Didst not thou, Zeus, become a wandering bird, + To win the love of one who drove a herd? + Selene, Cybele, Cypris, all loved swains: + Eunice, loftier-bred, their kiss disdains. + Henceforth, by hill or hall, thy love disown, + Cypris, and sleep the livelong night alone. + + + + +IDYLL XXI. + + +The Fishermen. + +_ASPHALION, A COMRADE._ + + Want quickens wit: Want's pupils needs must work, + O Diophantus: for the child of toil + Is grudged his very sleep by carking cares: + Or, if he taste the blessedness of night, + Thought for the morrow soon warns slumber off. + + Two ancient fishers once lay side by side + On piled-up sea-wrack in their wattled hut, + Its leafy wall their curtain. Near them lay + The weapons of their trade, basket and rod, + Hooks, weed-encumbered nets, and cords and oars, + And, propped on rollers, an infirm old boat. + Their pillow was a scanty mat, eked out + With caps and garments: such the ways and means, + Such the whole treasury of the fishermen. + They knew no luxuries: owned nor door nor dog; + Their craft their all, their mistress Poverty: + Their only neighbour Ocean, who for aye + Bound their lorn hut came floating lazily. + + Ere the moon's chariot was in mid-career, + The fishers girt them for their customed toil, + And banished slumber from unwilling eyes, + And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:-- + + ASPHALION. + "They say that soon flit summer-nights away, + Because all lingering is the summer day: + Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I + Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky. + How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?" + + HIS COMRADE. + "Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so. + 'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong, + But care maims slumber, and the nights seem long." + + ASPHALION. + "Didst thou e'er study dreams? For visions fair + I saw last night; and fairly thou should'st share + The wealth I dream of, as the fish I catch. + Now, for sheer sense, I reckon few thy match; + And, for a vision, he whose motherwit + Is his sole tutor best interprets it. + And now we've time the matter to discuss: + For who could labour, lying here (like us) + Pillowed on leaves and neighboured by the deep, + Or sleeping amid thorns no easy sleep? + In rich men's halls the lamps are burning yet; + But fish come alway to the rich man's net." + + COMRADE. + "To me the vision of the night relate; + Speak, and reveal the riddle to thy mate." + + ASPHALION. + "Last evening, as I plied my watery trade, + (Not on an o'erfull stomach--we had made + Betimes a meagre meal, as you can vouch,) + I fell asleep; and lo! I seemed to crouch + Among the boulders, and for fish to wait, + Still dangling, rod in hand, my vagrant bait. + A fat fellow caught it: (e'en in sleep I'm bound + To dream of fishing, as of crusts the hound:) + Fast clung he to the hooks; his blood outwelled; + Bent with his struggling was the rod I held: + I tugged and tugged: my efforts made me ache: + 'How, with a line thus slight, this monster take?' + Then gently, just to warn him he was caught, + I twitched him once; then slacked and then made taut + My line, for now he offered not to ran; + A glance soon showed me all my task was done. + 'Twas a gold fish, pure metal every inch + That I had captured. I began to flinch: + 'What if this beauty be the sea-king's joy, + Or azure Amphitrite's treasured toy!' + With care I disengaged him--not to rip + With hasty hook the gilding from his lip: + And with a tow-line landed him, and swore + Never to set my foot on ocean more, + But with my gold live royally ashore. + So I awoke: and, comrade, lend me now + Thy wits, for I am troubled for my vow." + + COMRADE. + "Ne'er quake: you're pledged to nothing, for no prize + You gained or gazed on. Dreams are nought but lies. + Yet may this dream bear fruit; if, wide-awake + And not in dreams, you'll fish the neighbouring lake. + Fish that are meat you'll there mayhap behold, + Not die of famine, amid dreams of gold." + + + + +IDYLL XXII. + + +The Sons of Leda + + The pair I sing, that AEgis-armed Zeus + Gave unto Leda; Castor and the dread + Of bruisers Polydeuces, whensoe'er + His harnessed hands were lifted for the fray. + Twice and again I sing the manly sons + Of Leda, those Twin Brethren, Sparta's own: + Who shield the soldier on the deadly scarp, + The horse wild-plunging o'er the crimson field, + The ship that, disregarding in her pride + Star-set and star-rise, meets disastrous gales:-- + Such gales as pile the billows mountain-high, + E'en at their own wild will, round stem or stern: + Dash o'er the hold, the timbers rive in twain, + Till mast and tackle dangle in mid-air + Shivered like toys, and, as the night wears on, + The rain of heaven falls fast, and, lashed by wind + And iron hail, broad ocean rings again. + Then can they draw from out the nether abyss + Both craft and crew, each deeming he must die: + Lo the winds cease, and o'er the burnished deep + Comes stillness; this way flee the clouds and that; + And shine out clear the Great Bear and the Less, + And, 'twixt the Asses dimly seen, the Crib + Foretells fair voyage to the mariner. + O saviours, O companions of mankind, + Matchless on horse or harp, in lists or lay; + Which of ye twain demands my earliest song? + Of both I sing; of Polydeuces first. + + Argo, escaped the two inrushing rocks, + And snow-clad Pontus with his baleful jaws, + Came to Bebrycia with her heaven-sprung freight; + There by one ladder disembarked a host + Of Heroes from the decks of Jason's ship. + On the low beach, to leeward of the cliff, + They leapt, and piled their beds, and lit their fires: + Castor meanwhile, the bridler of the steed, + And Polydeuces of the nut-brown face, + Had wandered from their mates; and, wildered both, + Searched through the boskage of the hill, and found + Hard by a slab of rock a bubbling spring + Brimful of purest water. In the depths + Below, like crystal or like silver gleamed + The pebbles: high above it pine and plane + And poplar rose, and cypress tipt with green; + With all rich flowers that throng the mead, when wanes + The Spring, sweet workshops of the furry bee. + There sat and sunned him one of giant bulk + And grisly mien: hard knocks had stov'n his ears: + Broad were his shoulders, vast his orbed chest; + Like a wrought statue rose his iron frame: + And nigh the shoulder on each brawny arm + Stood out the muscles, huge as rolling stones + Caught by some rain-swoln river and shapen smooth + By its wild eddyings: and o'er nape and spine + Hung, balanced by the claws, a lion's skin. + Him Leda's conquering son accosted first:-- + + POLYDEUCES. + Luck to thee, friend unknown! Who own this shore? + + AMYCUS. + Luck, quotha, to see men ne'er seen before! + + POLYDEUCES. + Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we. + + AMYCUS. + Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee. + + POLYDEUCES. + What art thou? brutish churl, or o'erproud king? + + AMYCUS. + E'en what thou see'st: and I am not trespassing. + + POLYDEUCES. + Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go. + + AMYCUS. + I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow. + + POLYDEUCES. + Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip? + + AMYCUS. + Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip. + + POLYDEUCES. + Can silver move thee? or if not, what can? + + AMYCUS. + Stand up and fight me singly, man with man. + + POLYDEUCES. + With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye? + + AMYCUS. + Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try. + + POLYDEUCES. + This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand? + + AMYCUS. + I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand. + + POLYDEUCES. + Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign? + + AMYCUS. + Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine. + + POLYDEUCES. + By crimson-crested cocks such games are won. + + AMYCUS. + Lions or cocks, we'll play this game or none. + + He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew + His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine + Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long, + Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too, + The peerless in the lists, went forth and called + From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all. + + Then either warrior armed with coils of hide + His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands, + And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring. + First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch + The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil, + O Polydeuces, valour by address; + And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote. + He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war; + Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed, + Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still, + And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows. + Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered + Their champion: fearing lest in that scant space + This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down. + But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus + Scored him with swift exchange of left and right, + And checked the onrush of the sea-god's child + Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds, + He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood. + Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw + The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars, + And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes. + Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there + A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all, + Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose, + And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man + Measured his length supine amid the fern. + Keen was the fighting when he rose again, + Deadly the blows their sturdy gauntlets dealt. + But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest + And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe + Made his whole face one mass of hideous wounds. + While the one sweated all his bulk away, + And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now, + The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought + In semblance and in size. But in what wise + The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed, + Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold + A secret not mine own; at thy behest + Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt. + + Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed, + Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge + Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved + From his right hip his ponderous other-arm. + And hit and harmed had been Amyclae's king; + But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist + The foe's left temple--fast the life-blood streamed + From the grim rift--and on his shoulder fell. + While with his left he reached the mouth, and made + The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye + His plashing blows, made havoc of his face + And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad + He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed + The strife, for he was even at death's door. + No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands, + O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath, + Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths, + Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more. + + Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I thee, + Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rushing horse + And shaking javelin, corsleted in brass. + + + PART II. + + The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away, + Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit + Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus, + Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords. + And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained, + All leapt from out their cars, and front to front + Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed shields. + First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm: + + "Whence, sirs, this lust for strife? Why, sword in hand, + Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives? + To us Leucippus these his daughters gave, + Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath. + Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed + And kine and asses and whatever is his, + Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes. + How often spake I thus before your face, + Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase: + 'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men + Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere. + Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds + Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad, + And Argos and Messene and the towns + To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach. + There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid + Second to none in godliness or wit: + Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will, + For all men court the kinship of the brave; + And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood + Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war. + Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pass; + Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.' + So I ran on; but o'er the shifting seas + The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace + With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice. + Yet listen to me now if ne'er before: + Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side. + But if ye lust for war, if strife must break + Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud, + Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands + And his cousin Idas from the abhorred fray: + While I and Castor, the two younger-born, + Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires + Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead + Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates, + To the bride-chamber passing, not the grave, + And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were + At cost so small to lay so huge a strife." + + He spoke--his words heaven gave not to the winds. + They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled + Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring, + And at his shield's rim shook his stalwart spear. + And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance; + High waved the plume on either warrior's helm. + First each at other thrust with busy spear + Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed: + But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker shields + Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain. + Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new modes + Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none. + Oft Castor on broad shield and plumed helm + Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his shield, + Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon, + As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee, + Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off + His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword. + And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb + He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw + The battle of the brethren. But the child + Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave + Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke + His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell, + And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep. + Nor did their mother see her elder son + Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home. + For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb + A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man + Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid, + And struck the marble fabric from his grasp, + And with red lightning burned his frame to dust. + So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke + The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire. + Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye + The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well + The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs + That trod Troy down for Menelaeus' sake? + The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds + Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state, + And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks, + And of Achilles towering in the strife. + Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song + The Muse accords me, even all my store! + The gods' most precious gift is minstrelsy. + + + + +IDYLL XXIII. + + +Love Avenged + + A lad deep-dipt in passion pined for one + Whose mood was froward as her face was fair. + Lovers she loathed, for tenderness she had none: + Ne'er knew what Love was like, nor how he bare + A bow, and arrows to make young maids smart: + Proof to all speech, all access, seemed her heart. + + So he found naught his furnace to allay; + No quiver of lips, no lighting of kind eyes, + Nor rose-flushed cheek; no talk, no lover's play + Was deigned him: but as forest-beasts are shy + Of hound and hunter, with this wight dealt she; + Fierce was her lip, her eyes gleamed ominously. + + Her tyrant's-heart was imaged in her face, + That flushed, then altering put on blank disdain. + Yet, even then, her anger had its grace, + And made her lover fall in love again. + At last, unable to endure his flame, + To the fell threshold all in tears he came: + + Kissed it, and lifted up his voice and said: + "O heart of stone, O curst and cruel maid + Unworthy of all love, by lions bred, + See, my last offering at thy feet is laid, + The halter that shall hang me! So no more + For my sake, lady, need thy heart be sore. + + Whither thou doom'st me, thither must I fare. + There is a path, that whoso treads hath ease + (Men say) from love; Forgetfulness is there. + But if I drain that chalice to the lees, + I may not quench the love I have for you; + Now at your gates I cast my long adieu. + + Your future I foresee. The rose is gay, + And passing-sweet the violet of the spring: + Yet time despoils them, and they soon decay. + The lily droops and dies, that lustrous thing; + The solid-seeming snowdrift melts full fast; + And maiden's bloom is rare, but may not last. + + The time shall come, when you shall feel as I; + And, with seared heart, weep many a bitter tear. + But, maiden, grant one farewell courtesy. + When you come forth, and see me hanging here, + E'en at your door, forget not my hard case; + But pause and weep me for a moment's space. + + And drop one tear, and cut me down, and spread + O'er me some garment, for a funeral pall, + That wrapped thy limbs: and kiss me--let the dead + Be privileged thus highly--last of all. + You need not fear me: not if your disdain + Changed into fondness could I live again. + + And scoop a grave, to hide my loves and me: + And thrice, at parting, say, 'My friend's no more:' + Add if you list, 'a faithful friend was he;' + And write this epitaph, scratched upon your door: + _Stranger, Love slew him. Pass not by, until + Thou hast paused and said, 'His mistress used him ill_.'" + + This said, he grasped a stone: that ghastly stone + At the mid threshold 'neath the wall he laid, + And o'er the beam the light cord soon was thrown, + And his neck noosed. In air the body swayed, + Its footstool spurned away. Forth came once more + The maid, and saw him hanging at her door. + + No struggle of heart it cost her, ne'er a tear + She wept o'er that young life, nor shunned to soil, + By contact with the corpse, her woman's-gear. + But on she went to watch the athletes' toil, + Then made for her loved haunt, the riverside: + And there she met the god she had defied. + + For on a marble pedestal Eros stood + Fronting the pool: the statue leaped, and smote + And slew that miscreant. All the stream ran blood; + And to the top a girl's cry seemed to float. + Rejoice, O lovers, since the scorner fell; + And, maids, be kind; for Love deals justice well. + + + + +IDYLL XXIV. + + +The Infant Heracles. + + Alcmena once had washed and given the breast + To Heracles, a babe of ten months old, + And Iphicles his junior by a night; + And cradled both within a brazen shield, + A gorgeous trophy, which Amphitryon erst + Had stript from Pterelaeus fall'n in fight. + She stroked their baby brows, and thus she said: + + "Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep, + Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life: + Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!" + + She spake and rocked the shield; and in his arms + Sleep took them. But at midnight, when the Bear + Wheels to his setting, in Orion's front + Whose shoulder then beams broadest; Hera sent, + Mistress of wiles, two huge and hideous things, + Snakes with their scales of azure all on end, + To the broad portal of the chamber-door, + All to devour the infant Heracles. + They, all their length uncoiled upon the floor, + Writhed on to their blood-feast; a baleful light + Gleamed in their eyes, rank venom they spat forth. + But when with lambent tongues they neared the cot, + Alcmena's babes (for Zeus was watching all) + Woke, and throughout the chamber there was light. + Then Iphicles--so soon as he descried + The fell brutes peering o'er the hollow shield, + And saw their merciless fangs--cried lustily, + And kicked away his coverlet of down, + Fain to escape. But Heracles, he clung + Round them with warlike hands, in iron grasp + Prisoning the two: his clutch upon their throat, + The deadly snake's laboratory, where + He brews such poisons as e'en heaven abhors. + They twined and twisted round the babe that, born + After long travail, ne'er had shed a tear + E'en in his nursery; soon to quit their hold, + For powerless seemed their spines. Alcmena heard, + While her lord slept, the crying, and awoke. + + "Amphitryon, up: chill fears take hold on me. + Up: stay not to put sandals on thy feet. + Hear'st thou our child, our younger, how he cries? + Seest thou yon walls illumed at dead of night, + But not by morn's pure beam? I know, I know, + Sweet lord, that some strange thing is happening here." + + She spake; and he, upleaping at her call, + Made swiftly for the sword of quaint device + That aye hung dangling o'er his cedarn couch: + And he was reaching at his span-new belt, + The scabbard (one huge piece of lotus-wood) + Poised on his arm; when suddenly the night + Spread out her hands, and all was dark again. + Then cried he to his slaves, whose sleep was deep: + "Quick, slaves of mine; fetch fire from yonder hearth: + And force with all your strength the doorbolts back! + Up, loyal-hearted slaves: the master calls." + + Forth came at once the slaves with lighted lamps. + The house was all astir with hurrying feet. + But when they saw the suckling Heracles + With the two brutes grasped firm in his soft hands, + They shouted with one voice. But he must show + The reptiles to Amphitryon; held aloft + His hands in childish glee, and laughed and laid + At his sire's feet the monsters still in death. + + Then did Alcmena to her bosom take + The terror-blanched and passionate Iphicles: + Cradling the other in a lambswool quilt, + Her lord once more bethought him of his rest. + + Now cocks had thrice sung out that night was e'er. + Then went Alcmena forth and told the thing + To Teiresias the seer, whose words were truth, + And bade him rede her what the end should be:-- + 'And if the gods bode mischief, hide it not, + Pitying, from me: man shall not thus avoid + The doom that Fate upon her distaff spins. + Son of Eueres, thou hast ears to hear.' + + Thus spake the queen, and thus he made reply: + "Mother of monarchs, Perseus' child, take heart; + And look but on the fairer side of things. + For by the precious light that long ago + Left tenantless these eyes, I swear that oft + Achaia's maidens, as when eve is high + They mould the silken yarn upon their lap, + Shall tell Alcmena's story: blest art thou + Of women. Such a man in this thy son + Shall one day scale the star-encumbered heaven: + His amplitude of chest bespeaks him lord + Of all the forest beasts and all mankind. + Twelve tasks accomplished he must dwell with Zeus; + His flesh given over to Trachinian fires; + And son-in-law be hailed of those same gods + Who sent yon skulking brutes to slay thy babe. + Lo! the day cometh when the fawn shall couch + In the wolfs lair, nor fear the spiky teeth + That would not harm him. But, O lady, keep + Yon smouldering fire alive; prepare you piles + Of fuel, bramble-sprays or fern or furze + Or pear-boughs dried with swinging in the wind: + And let the kindled wild-wood burn those snakes + At midnight, when they looked to slay thy babe. + And let at dawn some handmaid gather up + The ashes of the fire, and diligently + Convey and cast each remnant o'er the stream + Faced by clov'n rocks, our boundary: then return + Nor look behind. And purify your home + First with sheer sulphur, rain upon it then, + (Chaplets of olive wound about your heads,) + Innocuous water, and the customed salt. + Lastly, to Zeus almighty slay a boar: + So shall ye vanquish all your enemies." + + Spake Teiresias, and wheeling (though his years + Weighed on him sorely) gained his ivory car. + And Heracles as some young orchard-tree + Grew up, Amphitryon his reputed sire. + Old Linus taught him letters, Phoebus' child, + A dauntless toiler by the midnight lamp. + Each fall whereby the sons of Argos fell, + The flingers by cross-buttock, each his man + By feats of wrestling: all that boxers e'er, + Grim in their gauntlets, have devised, or they + Who wage mixed warfare and, adepts in art, + Upon the foe fall headlong: all such lore + Phocian Harpalicus gave him, Hermes' son: + Whom no man might behold while yet far off + And wait his armed onset undismayed: + A brow so truculent roofed so stern a face. + To launch, and steer in safety round the goal, + Chariot and steed, and damage ne'er a wheel, + This the lad learned of fond Amphitryon's self. + Many a fair prize from listed warriors he + Had won on Argive racegrounds; yet the car + Whereon he sat came still unshattered home, + What gaps were in his harness time had made. + Then with couched lance to reach the foe, his targe + Covering his rear, and bide the biting sword; + Or, on the warpath, place his ambuscade, + Marshal his lines and rally his cavaliers; + This knightly Castor learned him, erst exiled + From Argos, when her realms with all their wealth + Of vineyards fell to Tydeus, who received + Her and her chariots at Adrastus' hand. + Amongst the Heroes none was Castor's match + Till age had dimmed the glory of his youth. + + Such tutors this fond mother gave her son. + The stripling's bed was at his father's side, + One after his own heart, a lion's skin. + His dinner, roast meat, with a loaf that filled + A Dorian basket, you might soothly say + Had satisfied a delver; and to close + The day he took, sans fire, a scanty meal. + A simple frock went halfway down his leg: + + * * * * * + + + + +IDYLL XXV. + + +Heracles the Lion Slayer. + + * * * * * + + To whom thus spake the herdsman of the herd, + Pausing a moment from his handiwork: + "Friend, I will solve thy questions, for I fear + The angry looks of Hermes of the roads. + No dweller in the skies is wroth as he, + With him who saith the asking traveller nay. + + "The flocks Augeas owns, our gracious lord, + One pasture pastures not, nor one fence bounds. + They wander, look you, some by Elissus' banks + Or god-beloved Alpheus' sacred stream, + Some by Buprasion, where the grape abounds, + Some here: their folds stand separate. But before + His herds, though they be myriad, yonder glades + That belt the broad lake round lie fresh and fair + For ever: for the low-lying meadows take + The dew, and teem with herbage honeysweet, + To lend new vigour to the horned kine. + Here on thy right their stalls thou canst descry + By the flowing river, for all eyes to see: + Here, where the platans blossom all the year, + And glimmers green the olive that enshrines + Rural Apollo, most august of gods. + Hard by, fair mansions have been reared for us + His herdsmen; us who guard with might and main + His riches that are more than tongue may tell: + Casting our seed o'er fallows thrice upturn'd + Or four times by the share; the bounds whereof + Well do the delvers know, whose busy feet + Troop to his wine-vats in fair summer-time. + Yea, all these acres wise Augeas owns, + These corn-clad uplands and these orchards green, + Far as yon ledges whence the cataracts leap. + Here do we haunt, here toil, as is the wont + Of labourers in the fields, the livelong day. + But prythee tell me thou--so shalt thou best + Serve thine own interests--wherefore art thou here? + Seeking Augeas, or mayhap some slave + That serves him? I can tell thee and I will + All thou would'st know: for of no churlish blood + Thou earnest, nor wert nurtured as a churl: + That read I in thy stateliness of form; + The sons of heaven move thus among mankind." + + Then answered him the warrior son of Zeus. + "Yea, veteran, I would see the Epean King + Augeas; surely for this end I came. + If he bides there amongst his citizens, + Ruling the folk, determining the laws, + Look, father; bid some serf to be my guide, + Some honoured master-worker in the fields, + Who to shrewd questions shrewdly can reply. + Are not we made dependent each on each?" + + To him the good old swain made answer thus: + "Stranger, some god hath timed thy visit here, + And given thee straightway all thy heart's desire. + Hither Augeas, offspring of the Sun, + Came, with young Phyleus splendid in his strength, + But yesterday from the city, to review + (Not in one day) his multitudinous wealth, + Methinks e'en princes say within themselves, + 'The safeguard of the flock's the master's eye.' + But haste, we'll seek him: to my own fold I + Will pilot thee; there haply find the King." + + He said and went in front: but pondered much + (As he surveyed the lion-skin and the club, + Itself an armful) whence this stranger came; + And fain had asked. But fear recalled the words + That trembled on his lip, the fear to say + Aught that his fiery friend might take amiss. + For who can fathom all his fellow's mind? + + The dogs perceived their coming, yet far off: + They scented flesh, they heard the thud of feet: + And with wild gallop, baying furiously, + Ran at Amphitryon's son: but feebly whined + And fawned upon the old man at his side. + Then Heracles, just lifting from the ground + A pebble, scared them home, and with hard words + Cursed the whole pack; and having stopped their din + (Inly rejoiced, nathless, to see them guard + So well an absent master's house) he spake: + + "Lo! what a friend the royal gods have given + Man in the dog! A trusty servant he! + Had he withal an understanding heart, + To teach him when to rage and when forbear, + What brute could claim like praise? But, lacking wit, + 'Tis but a passionate random-raving thing." + + He spake: the dogs ran scurrying to their lairs. + And now the sun wheeled round his westering car + And led still evening on: from every field + Came thronging the fat flocks to bield and byre. + Then in their thousands, drove on drove, the kine + Came into view; as rainclouds, onward driven + By stress of gales, the west or mighty north, + Come up o'er all the heaven; and none may count + And naught may stay them as they sweep through air; + Such multitudes the storm's strength drives ahead, + Such multitudes climb surging in the rear-- + So in swift sequence drove succeeded drove, + And all the champaign, all the highways swarmed + With tramping oxen; all the sumptuous leas + Rang with their lowing. Soon enough the stalls + Were populous with the laggard-footed kine, + Soon did the sheep lie folded in their folds. + Then of that legion none stood idle, none + Gaped listless at the herd, with naught to do: + But one drew near and milked them, binding clogs + Of wood with leathern thongs around their feet: + One brought, all hungering for the milk they loved, + The longing young ones to the longing dams. + One held the pail, one pressed the dainty cheese, + Or drove the bulls home, sundered from the kine. + Pacing from stall to stall, Augeas saw + What revenue his herdsman brought him in. + With him his son surveyed the royal wealth, + And, strong of limb and purpose, Heracles. + Then, though the heart within him was as steel, + Framed to withstand all shocks, Amphitryon's son + Gazed in amazement on those thronging kine; + For none had deemed or dreamed that one, or ten, + Whose wealth was more than regal, owned those tribes: + Such huge largess the Sun had given his child, + First of mankind for multitude of flocks. + The Sun himself gave increase day by day + To his child's herds: whatever diseases spoil + The farmer, came not there; his kine increased + In multitude and value year by year: + None cast her young, or bare unfruitful males. + Three hundred bulls, white-pasterned, crumple-horned, + Ranged amid these, and eke two hundred roans, + Sires of a race to be: and twelve besides + Herded amongst them, sacred to the Sun. + Their skin was white as swansdown, and they moved + Like kings amid the beasts of laggard foot. + Scorning the herd in uttermost disdain + They cropped the green grass in untrodden fields: + And when from the dense jungle to the plain + Leapt a wild beast, in quest of vagrant cows; + Scenting him first, the twelve went forth to war. + Stern was their bellowing, in their eye sat death, + Foremost of all for mettle and for might + And pride of heart loomed Phaeton: him the swains + Regarded as a star; so bright he shone + Among the herd, the cynosure of eyes. + He, soon as he descried the sun-dried skin + Of the grim lion, made at Heracles + (Whose eye was on him)--fain to make his crest + And sturdy brow acquainted with his flanks. + Straight the prince grasped him with no tender grasp + By the left horn, and bowed that giant bulk + To earth, neck foremost: then, by pressure brought + To bear upon his shoulder, forced him back. + The web of muscles that enwraps the nerves + Stood out from the brute's fore-arm plain to see. + Marvelled the King, and Phyleus his brave son, + At the strange prowess of Amphitryon's child. + + Then townwards, leaving straight that rich champaign, + Stout Heracles his comrade, Phyleus fared; + And soon as they had gained the paven road, + Making their way hotfooted o'er a path + (Not o'er-conspicuous in the dim green wood) + That left the farm and threaded through the vines, + Out-spake unto the child of Zeus most high, + Who followed in his steps, Augeas' son, + O'er his right shoulder glancing pleasantly. + + "O stranger, as some old familiar tale + I seem to cast thy history in my mind. + For there came one to Argos, young and tall, + By birth a Greek from Helice-on-seas, + Who told this tale before a multitude: + How that an Argive in his presence slew + A fearful lion-beast, the dread and death + Of herdsmen; which inhabited a den + Or cavern by the grove of Nemean Zeus. + He may have come from sacred Argos' self, + Or Tiryns, or Mycenae: what know I? + But thus he told his tale, and said the slayer + Was (if my memory serves me) Perseus' son. + Methinks no islander had dared that deed + Save thee: the lion's skin that wraps thy ribs + Argues full well some gallant feat of arms. + But tell me, warrior, first--that I may know + If my prophetic soul speak truth or not-- + Art thou the man of whom that stranger Greek + Spoke in my hearing? Have I guessed aright? + How slew you single-handed that fell beast? + How came it among rivered Nemea's glens? + For none such monster could the eagerest eye + Find in all Greece: Greece harbours bear and boar, + And deadly wolf: but not this larger game. + 'Twas this that made his listeners marvel then: + They deemed he told them travellers' tales, to win + By random words applause from standers-by." + + Then Phyleus from the mid-road edged away, + That both might walk abreast, and he might catch + More at his ease what fell from Heracles: + Who journeying now alongside thus began:-- + + "On the prior matter, O Augeas' child, + Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright. + But all that monster's history, how it fell, + Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear, + Save only whence it came: for none of all + The Argive host could read that riddle right. + Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows + Resenting, had upon Phoroneus' realm + Let loose this very scourge of humankind. + On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood + The brute ran riot: notably it cost + Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold. + And here Eurystheus bade me try my first + Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing. + So with my buxom bow and quiver lined + With arrows I set forth: my left hand held + My club, a beetling olive's stalwart trunk + And shapely, still environed in its bark: + This hand had torn from holiest Helicon + The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots. + And finding soon the lion's whereabouts, + I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped + The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death. + And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing, + In hopes to view him ere he spied out me. + But midday came, and nowhere could I see + One footprint of the beast or hear his roar: + And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask, + Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea; + For wan dismay kept each man in his hut. + Still on I footed, searching through and through + The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw + The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength. + Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked + At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane, + Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip + With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips. + I, crouched among the shadows of the trees + On the green hill-top, waited his approach, + And as he came I aimed at his left flank. + The barbed shaft sped idly, nor could pierce + The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass. + He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head, + And ran his eyes o'er all the vicinage, + And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat. + Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft, + Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain. + In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs + Are seated: still the arrow sank not in, + But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet. + Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined, + To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast + Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides + With his huge tail, and opened war at once. + Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end + With rage: his spine moved sinuous as a bow, + Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin. + And e'en as, when a chariot-builder bends + With practised skill his shafts of splintered fig, + Hot from the fire, to be his axle-wheels; + Flies the tough-rinded sapling from the hands + That shape it, at a bound recoiling far: + So from far-off the dread beast, all of a heap, + Sprang on me, hungering for my life-blood. I + Thrust with one hand my arrows in his face + And my doffed doublet, while the other raised + My seasoned cudgel o'er his crest, and drave + Full at his temples, breaking clean in twain + On the fourfooted warrior's airy scalp + My club; and ere he reached me, down he fell. + Headlong he fell, and poised on tremulous feet + Stood, his head wagging, and his eyes grown dim; + For the shrewd stroke had shattered brain and bone. + I, marking him beside himself with pain. + Fell, ere recovering he should breathe again, + At vantage on his solid sinewy neck, + My bow and woven quiver thrown aside. + With iron clasp I gripped him from the rear + (His talons else had torn me) and, my foot + Set on him, forced to earth by dint of heel + His hinder parts, my flanks entrenched the while + Behind his fore-arm; till his thews were stretched + And strained, and on his haunches stark he stood + And lifeless; hell received his monstrous ghost. + Then with myself I counselled how to strip + From off the dead beast's limbs his shaggy hide, + A task full onerous, since I found it proof + Against all blows of steel or stone or wood. + Some god at last inspired me with the thought, + With his own claws to rend the lion's skin. + With these I flayed him soon, and sheathed and armed + My limbs against the shocks of murderous war. + Thus, sir, the Nemean lion met his end, + Erewhile the constant curse of beast and man." + + + + +IDYLL XXVI. + + +The Bacchanals. + + Agave of the vermeil-tinted cheek + And Ino and Autonoae marshalled erst + Three bands of revellers under one hill-peak. + They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage first, + Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel; + And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden fell: + + To Semele three, to Dionysus nine. + Next, from a vase drew offerings subtly wrought, + And prayed and placed them on each fresh green shrine; + So by the god, who loved such tribute, taught. + Perched on the sheer cliff, Pentheus could espy + All, in a mastick hoar ensconced that grew thereby. + + Autonoae marked him, and with, frightful cries + Flew to make havoc of those mysteries weird + That must not be profaned by vulgar eyes. + Her frenzy frenzied all. Then Pentheus feared + And fled: and in his wake those damsels three, + Each with her trailing robe up-gathered to the knee. + + "What will ye, dames," quoth Pentheus. "Thou shalt guess + At what we mean, untold," Autonoae said. + Agave moaned--so moans a lioness + Over her young one--as she clutched his head: + While Ino on the carcass fairly laid + Her heel, and wrenched away shoulder and shoulder-blade. + + Autonoae's turn came next: and what remained + Of flesh their damsels did among them share, + And back to Thebes they came all carnage-stained, + And planted not a king but aching there. + Warned by this tale, let no man dare defy + Great Bacchus; lest a death more awful he should die, + + And when he counts nine years or scarcely ten, + Rush to his ruin. May I pass my days + Uprightly, and be loved of upright men! + And take this motto, all who covet praise: + ('Twas AEgis-bearing Zeus that spake it first:) + 'The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.' + + Now bless ye Bacchus, whom on mountain snows, + Prisoned in his thigh till then, the Almighty laid. + And bless ye fairfaced Semele, and those + Her sisters, hymned of many a hero-maid, + Who wrought, by Bacchus fired, a deed which none + May gainsay--who shall blame that which a god hath done? + + + + +IDYLL XXVII. + + +A Countryman's Wooing. + +_DAPHNIS. A MAIDEN_. + + THE MAIDEN. + How fell sage Helen? through a swain like thee. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay the true Helen's just now kissing me. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, ne'er boast: 'what's idler than a kiss?' + + DAPHNIS. + Yet in such pleasant idling there is bliss. + + THE MAIDEN. + I'll wash my mouth: where go thy kisses then? + + DAPHNIS. + Wash, and return it--to be kissed again. + + THE MAIDEN. + Go kiss your oxen, and not unwed maids. + + DAPHNIS. + Ne'er boast; for beauty is a dream that fades. + + THE MAIDEN. + Past grapes are grapes: dead roses keep their smell. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon olives: I have a tale to tell. + + THE MAIDEN. + Not I: you fooled me with smooth words before. + + DAPHNIS. + Come to yon elms, and hear me pipe once more. + + THE MAIDEN. + Pipe to yourself: your piping makes me cry. + + DAPHNIS. + A maid, and flout the Paphian? Fie, oh fie! + + THE MAIDEN. + She's naught to me, if Artemis' favour last. + + DAPHNIS. + Hush, ere she smite you and entrap you fast. + + THE MAIDEN. + And let her smite me, trap me as she will! + + DAPHNIS. + Your Artemis shall be your saviour still? + + THE MAIDEN. + Unhand me! What, again? I'll tear your lip. + + DAPHNIS. + Can you, could damsel e'er, give Love the slip? + + THE MAIDEN. + You are his bondslave, but not I by Pan! + + DAPHNIS. + I doubt he'll give thee to a worser man. + + THE MAIDEN. + Many have wooed me, but I fancied none. + + DAPHNIS. + Till among many came the destined _one_. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wedlock is woe. Dear lad, what can I do? + + DAPHNIS. + Woe it is not, but joy and dancing too. + + THE MAIDEN. + Wives dread their husbands: so I've heard it said. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay, they rule o'er them. What does woman dread? + + THE MAIDEN. + Then children--Eileithya's dart is keen. + + DAPHNIS. + But the deliverer, Artemis, is your queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + And bearing children all our grace destroys. + + DAPHNIS. + Bear them and shine more lustrous in your boys. + + THE MAIDEN. + Should I say yea, what dower awaits me then? + + DAPHNIS. + Thine are my cattle, thine this glade and glen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Swear not to wed, then leave me in my woe? + + DAPHNIS. + Not I by Pan, though thou should'st bid me go. + + THE MAIDEN. + And shall a cot be mine, with farm and fold! + + DAPHNIS. + Thy cot's half-built, fair wethers range this wold. + + THE MAIDEN. + What, what to my old father must I say? + + DAPHNIS. + Soon as he hears my name he'll not say nay. + + THE MAIDEN. + Speak it: by e'en a name we're oft beguiled. + + DAPHNIS. + I'm Daphnis, Lycid's and Nomaea's child. + + THE MAIDEN. + Well-born indeed: and not less so am I. + + DAPHNIS. + I know--Menalcas' daughter may look high. + + THE MAIDEN. + That grove, where stands your sheepfold, shew me please. + + DAPHNIS. + Nay look, how green, how tall my cypress-trees. + + THE MAIDEN. + Graze, goats: I go to learn the herdsman's trade. + + DAPHNIS. + Feed, bulls: I shew my copses to my maid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Satyr, what mean you? You presume o'ermuch. + + DAPHNIS. + This waist is round, and pleasant to the touch. + + THE MAIDEN. + By Pan, I'm like to swoon! Unhand me pray! + + DAPHNIS. + Why be so timorous? Pretty coward, stay. + + THE MAIDEN. + This bank is wet: you've soiled my pretty gown. + + DAPHNIS. + See, a soft fleece to guard it I put down. + + THE MAIDEN. + And you've purloined my sash. What can this mean? + + DAPHNIS. + This sash I'll offer to the Paphian queen. + + THE MAIDEN. + Stay, miscreant--some one comes--I heard a noise. + + DAPHNIS. + 'Tis but the green trees whispering of our joys. + + THE MAIDEN. + You've torn my plaidie, and I am half unclad. + + DAPHNIS. + Anon I'll give thee a yet ampler plaid. + + THE MAIDEN. + Generous just now, you'll one day grudge me bread. + + DAPHNIS. + Ah! for thy sake my life-blood I could shed. + + THE MAIDEN. + Artemis, forgive! Thy eremite breaks her vow. + + DAPHNIS. + Love, and Love's mother, claim a calf and cow. + + THE MAIDEN. + A woman I depart, my girlhood o'er. + + DAPHNIS. + Be wife, be mother; but a girl no more. + + Thus interchanging whispered talk the pair, + Their faces all aglow, long lingered there. + At length the hour arrived when they must part. + With downcast eyes, but sunshine in her heart, + She went to tend her flock; while Daphnis ran + Back to his herded bulls, a happy man. + + + + +IDYLL XXVIII. + + +The Distaff. + + Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's gift + To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household thrift, + Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a plain + Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphrodite's hallowed fane. + Thither ask I Zeus to waft me, fain to see my old friend's face, + Nicias, o'er whose birth presided every passion-breathing Grace; + Fain to meet his answering welcome; and anon deposit thee + In his lady's hands, thou marvel of laborious ivory. + Many a manly robe ye'll fashion, much translucent maiden's gear; + Nay, should e'er the fleecy mothers twice within the selfsame year + Yield their wool in yonder pasture, Theugenis of the dainty feet + Would perform the double labour: matron's cares to her are sweet. + To an idler or a trifler I had verily been loth + To resign thee, O my distaff, for the same land bred us both: + In the land Corinthian Archias built aforetime, thou hadst birth, + In our island's core and marrow, whence have sprung the kings of earth: + To the home I now transfer thee of a man who knows full well + Every craft whereby men's bodies dire diseases may repel: + There to live in sweet Miletus. Lady of the Distaff she + Shall be named, and oft reminded of her poet-friend by thee: + Men shall look on thee and murmur to each other, 'Lo! how small + Was the gift, and yet how precious! Friendship's gifts are priceless + all.' + + + + +IDYLL XXIX. + + +Loves. + + 'Sincerity comes with the wine-cup,' my dear: + Then now o'er our wine-cups let us be sincere. + My soul's treasured secret to you I'll impart; + It is this; that I never won fairly your heart. + One half of my life, I am conscious, has flown; + The residue lives on your image alone. + You are kind, and I dream I'm in paradise then; + You are angry, and lo! all is darkness again. + It is right to torment one who loves you? Obey + Your elder; 'twere best; and you'll thank me one day. + Settle down in one nest on one tree (taking care + That no cruel reptile can clamber up there); + As it is with your lovers you're fairly perplext; + One day you choose one bough, another the next. + Whoe'er at all struck by your graces appears, + Is more to you straight than the comrade of years; + While he's like the friend of a day put aside; + For the breath of your nostrils, I think, is your pride. + Form a friendship, for life, with some likely young lad; + So doing, in honour your name shall be had. + Nor would Love use you hardly; though lightly can he + Bind strong men in chains, and has wrought upon me + Till the steel is as wax--but I'm longing to press + That exquisite mouth with a clinging caress. + + No? Reflect that you're older each year than the last; + That we all must grow gray, and the wrinkles come fast. + Reflect, ere you spurn me, that youth at his sides + Wears wings; and once gone, all pursuit he derides: + Nor are men over keen to catch charms as they fly. + Think of this and be gentle, be loving as I: + When your years are maturer, we two shall be then + The pair in the Iliad over again. + But if you consign all my words to the wind + And say, 'Why annoy me? you're not to my mind,' + I--who lately in quest of the Gold Fruit had sped + For your sake, or of Cerberus guard of the dead-- + Though you called me, would ne'er stir a foot from my door, + For my love and my sorrow thenceforth will be o'er. + + + + +IDYLL XXX. + + +The Death of Adonis. + + Cythera saw Adonis + And knew that he was dead; + She marked the brow, all grisly now, + The cheek no longer red; + And "Bring the boar before me" + Unto her Loves she said. + + Forthwith her winged attendants + Ranged all the woodland o'er, + And found and bound in fetters + Threefold the grisly boar: + One dragged him at a rope's end + E'en as a vanquished foe; + One went behind and drave him + And smote him with his bow: + On paced the creature feebly; + He feared Cythera so. + + To him said Aphrodite: + "So, worst of beasts, 'twas you + Who rent that thigh asunder, + Who him that loved me slew?" + And thus the beast made answer: + "Cythera, hear me swear + By thee, by him that loved thee, + And by these bonds I wear, + And them before whose hounds I ran-- + I meant no mischief to the man + Who seemed to thee so fair. + + "As on a carven statue + Men gaze, I gazed on him; + I seemed on fire with mad desire + To kiss that offered limb: + My ruin, Aphrodite, + Thus followed from my whim. + + "Now therefore take and punish + And fairly cut away + These all unruly tusks of mine; + For to what end serve they? + And if thine indignation + Be not content with this, + Cut off the mouth that ventured + To offer him a kiss"-- + + But Aphrodite pitied + And bade them loose his chain. + The boar from that day forward + Still followed in her train; + Nor ever to the wildwood + Attempted to return, + But in the focus of Desire + Preferred to burn and burn. + + + + +IDYLL XXXI. + + +Loves. + + Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills! + Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom fills. + Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest swain + Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in vain. + Yet doth now this thing of evil my longsuffering heart beguile, + Though the utmost she vouchsafes me is the shadow of a smile: + And I soon shall know no respite, have no solace e'en in sleep. + Yesterday I watched her pass me, and from down-dropt eyelids peep + At the face she dared not gaze on--every moment blushing more-- + And my love took hold upon me as it never took before. + Home I went a wounded creature, with a gnawing at my heart; + And unto the soul within me did my bitterness impart. + + "Soul, why deal with me in this wise? Shall thy folly know no bound? + Canst thou look upon these temples, with their locks of silver crowned, + And still deem thee young and shapely? Nay, my soul, let us be sage; + Act as they that have already sipped the wisdom-cup of age. + Men have loved and have forgotten. Happiest of all is he + To the lover's woes a stranger, from the lover's fetters free: + Lightly his existence passes, as a wild-deer fleeting fast: + Tamed, it may be, he shall voyage in a maiden's wake at last: + Still to-day 'tis his to revel with his mates in boyhood's flowers. + As to thee, thy brain and marrow passion evermore devours, + Prey to memories that haunt thee e'en in visions of the night; + And a year shall scarcely pluck thee from thy miserable plight." + + Such and divers such reproaches did I heap upon my soul. + And my soul in turn made answer:--"Whoso deems he can control + Wily love, the same shall lightly gaze upon the stars of heaven + And declare by what their number overpasses seven times seven. + Will I, nill I, I may never from my neck his yoke unloose. + So, my friend, a god hath willed it: he whose plots could outwit Zeus, + And the queen whose home is Cyprus. I, a leaflet of to-day, + I whose breath is in my nostrils, am I wrong to own his sway?" + + + + +FRAGMENT PROM THE "BERENICE." + + Ye that would fain net fish and wealth withal, + For bare existence harrowing yonder mere, + To this our Lady slay at even-fall + That holy fish, which, since it hath no peer + For gloss and sheen, the dwellers about here + Have named the Silver Fish. This done, let down + Your nets, and draw them up, and never fear + To find them empty * * * * + + + +EPIGRAMS AND EPITAPHS. + + + I. + + Yours be yon dew-steep'd roses, yours be yon + Thick-clustering ivy, maids of Helicon: + Thine, Pythian Paean, that dark-foliaged bay; + With such thy Delphian crags thy front array. + This horn'd and shaggy ram shall stain thy shrine, + Who crops e'en now the feathering turpentine. + + + II. + + To Pan doth white-limbed Daphnis offer here + (He once piped sweetly on his herdsman's flute) + His reeds of many a stop, his barbed spear, + And scrip, wherein he held his hoards of fruit. + + + III. + + Daphnis, thou slumberest on the leaf-strown lea, + Thy frame at rest, thy springes newly spread + O'er the fell-side. But two are hunting thee: + Pan, and Priapus with his fair young head + Hung with wan ivy. See! they come, they leap + Into thy lair--fly, fly,--shake off the coil of sleep! + + + IV. + + For yon oaken avenue, swain, you must steer, + Where a statue of figwood, you'll see, has been set: + It has never been barked, has three legs and no ear; + But I think there is life in the patriarch yet. + He is handsomely shrined within fair chapel-walls; + Where, fringed with sweet cypress and myrtle and bay, + A stream ever-fresh from the rock's hollow falls, + And the ringleted vine her ripe store doth display: + And the blackbirds, those shrill-piping songsters of spring, + Wake the echoes with wild inarticulate song: + And the notes of the nightingale plaintively ring, + As she pours from her dun throat her lay sweet and strong. + Sitting there, to Priapus, the gracious one, pray + That the lore he has taught me I soon may unlearn: + Say I'll give him a kid, and in case he says nay + To this offer, three victims to him will I burn; + A kid, a fleeced ram, and a lamb sleek and fat; + He will listen, mayhap, to my prayers upon that. + + + V. + + Prythee, sing something sweet to me--you that can play + First and second at once. Then I too will essay + To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute + Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute. + In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep, + And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep. + + + VI. + + Poor Thyrsis! What boots it to weep out thine eyes? + Thy kid was a fair one, I own: + But the wolf with his cruel claw made her his prize, + And to darkness her spirit hath flown. + Do the dogs cry? What boots it? In spite of their cries + There is left of her never a bone. + + + VII. + + For a Statue of AEsculapius. + + Far as Miletus travelled Paean's son; + There to be guest of Nicias, guest of one + Who heals all sickness; and who still reveres + Him, for his sake this cedarn image rears. + The sculptor's hand right well did Nicias fill; + And here the sculptor lavished all his skill. + + + VIII. + + Ortho's Epitaph. + + Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge: + Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night. + I did so and died. My possessions were large; + Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me quite. + + + IX. + + Epitaph of Cleonicus. + + Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea + Out of season: our tenure of life is but frail. + Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he + From the valleys of Syria, with many a bale: + With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem + When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with them. + + + X. + + For a Statue of the Muses. + + To you this marble statue, maids divine, + Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine. + Your votary all admit him: by this skill + He gat him fame: and you he honours still. + + + XI. + + Epitaph of Eusthenes. + + Here the shrewd physiognomist Eusthenes lies, + Who could tell all your thoughts by a glance at your eyes. + A stranger, with strangers his honoured bones rest; + They valued sweet song, and he gave them his best. + All the honours of death doth the poet possess: + If a small one, they mourned for him nevertheless. + + + XII. + + For a Tripod Erected by Damoteles to Bacchus. + + The precentor Damoteles, Bacchus, exalts + Your tripod, and, sweetest of deities, you. + He was champion of men, if his boyhood had faults; + And he ever loved honour and seemliness too. + + + XIII. + + For a Statue of Anacreon. + + This statue, stranger, scan with earnest gaze; + And, home returning, say "I have beheld + Anacreon, in Teos; him whose lays + Were all unmatched among our sires of eld." + Say further: "Youth and beauty pleased him best;" + And all the man will fairly stand exprest. + + + XIV. + + Epitaph of Eurymedon. + + Thou hast gone to the grave, and abandoned thy son + Yet a babe, thy own manhood but scarcely begun. + Thou art throned among gods: and thy country will take + Thy child to her heart, for his brave father's sake. + + + XV. + + Another. + + Prove, traveller, now, that you honour the brave + Above the poltroon, when he's laid in the grave, + By murmuring 'Peace to Eurymedon dead.' + The turf should lie light on so sacred a head. + + + XVI. + + For a Statue of the Heavenly Aphrodite. + + Aphrodite stands here; she of heavenly birth; + Not that base one who's wooed by the children of earth. + 'Tis a goddess; bow down. And one blemishless all, + Chrysogone, placed her in Amphicles' hall: + Chrysogone's heart, as her children, was his, + And each year they knew better what happiness is. + For, Queen, at life's outset they made thee their friend; + Religion is policy too in the end. + + + XVII. + + To Epicharmus. + + Read these lines to Epicharmus. They are Dorian, as was he + The sire of Comedy. + Of his proper self bereaved, Bacchus, unto thee we rear + His brazen image here; + We in Syracuse who sojourn, elsewhere born. Thus much we can + Do for our countryman, + Mindful of the debt we owe him. For, possessing ample store + Of legendary lore, + Many a wholesome word, to pilot youths and maids thro' life, he spake: + We honour him for their sake. + + + XVIII. + + Epitaph of Cleita, Nurse of Medeius. + + The babe Medeius to his Thracian nurse + This stone--inscribed _To Cleita_--reared in the midhighway. + Her modest virtues oft shall men rehearse; + Who doubts it? is not 'Cleita's worth' a proverb to this day? + + + XIX. + + To Archilochus. + + Pause, and scan well Archilochus, the bard of elder days, + By east and west + Alike's confest + The mighty lyrist's praise. + Delian Apollo loved him well, and well the sister-choir: + His songs were fraught + With subtle thought, + And matchless was his lyre. + + + XX. + + Under a Statue of Peisander, + WHO WROTE THE LABOURS OF HERACLES. + + He whom ye gaze on was the first + That in quaint song the deeds rehearsed + Of him whose arm was swift to smite, + Who dared the lion to the fight: + That tale, so strange, so manifold, + Peisander of Cameirus told. + For this good work, thou may'st be sure, + His country placed him here, + In solid brass that shall endure + Through many a month and year. + + + XXI. + + Epitaph of Hipponax. + + Behold Hipponax' burialplace, + A true bard's grave. + Approach it not, if you're a base + And base-born knave. + But if your sires were honest men + And unblamed you, + Sit down thereon serenely then, + And eke sleep too. + + * * * * * + + Tuneful Hipponax rests him here. + Let no base rascal venture near. + Ye who rank high in birth and mind + Sit down--and sleep, if so inclined. + + + XXII. + + On his own Book. + + Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong + To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song. + I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair, + And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Theocritus, by Theocritus + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEOCRITUS *** + +***** This file should be named 11533.txt or 11533.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/5/3/11533/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Garrett Alley and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. For example: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/11533.zip b/old/11533.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..05cb94b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11533.zip |