ECLOGUE X.
GALLUS.
O Arethusa, help me once again
To string some verses for my Gallus' ear,
Fit for Lycoris fair herself to read.
To Gallus mine, who would refuse such songs?
So may the bitter stream that Doris pours
Mingle not with thy wave as thou dost flow
Into the flood that loves fair Sicily!
We may begin to tell of Gallus' loves,
Our flat-nosed she-goats nibbling hard the while
The tender plants. To deaf ears sing we not,
The forest echoes all our tuneful lays.
What glades did ye frequent, ye Naiads young
While Gallus pined in chains of cruel Love?
Ye lingered not upon Parnassus' slopes
Nor yet on Pindas did your steps delay
Whilst e'en the laurels wept, to see him lie
So sad, beneath the cliff, where the cold stones
Of stern Lycæus seemed to share his grief
His sheep surround him, staring at his woe.
Divinest poet, do not scorn thy flock!
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