Tityrus.What could I do? Not be from service free,
Nor find elsewhere the gods that give us aid.
Here, Melibœus, that young man I saw
To whom, year after year, our altars smoke
For twice six days: at once unto my prayer
He made reply: "My children, feed your herds,
And train your bulls, as ye have done of yore."
Melibœus.How blest is thy old age! thou hast the fields
That meet thy wants, albeit the pastures all
Are covered with bare stones, or marsh-grown reeds.
Thy breeding ewes will eat accustomed food
Nor from a neighbour's flock take any ill.
O fortunate old friend! Near well-known streams
And hallowed fountains canst thou woo cool shade
Near boundary hedge, where bees from Hybla, take
Their fill of honeyed willow-blossom, thou
By their sweet murmurous hum wilt oft be lulled
To softest slumber! Here beneath high rocks
The gatherers of leaves, with cheerful songs
Fill the high winds. Meanwhile thy turtle doves
And hoarse wood pigeons from the lofty elms
Make endless moan.
Tityrus.And so shall never fade
His visage from my heart: sooner than that
May the wild stags be pastured on the air
Or the sea waves cast fishes on the shore!
Or exiled Parthians, breaking bounds, shall drink
Of Arar's stream—Germans, of Tigris old.
7
