"Nor can, as once, sweet songs my heart refresh,
"Nor shady forests please. We cannot hope
"To change Love by our toil—not though we drink
"From icy Hebrus, or endure hard days
"Thro' drenching winters or Sithonian snows,
"Nor yet, if when the scorching sun has dried
"The bark on the tall elms, we drive our sheep
"On Æthiopian plains—our toil is vain.
"Love conquers all things—let us yield to love."
Pierian goddesses, this shall suffice,
Your poet sate, and wove the while he sang
A basket of the slender mallow-shoots.
You will prize Gallus all the more for this—
Gallus, my love for whom grows day by day,
As the green sprouts of Alders in the spring!
Now let us rise; for singers it is ill
To linger in the shade—to the young corn
The junipers' deep shadow worketh harm;
The evening star shines forth—now go, my goats,
Ye may return, full fed, towards your home.
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