Meliboeus Corydon Thyrsis

Daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-treeHad sat him down; Thyrsis and CorydonHad gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,And Corydon the she-goats swollen with milk-Both in the flower of age, Arcadians both,Ready to sing, and in like strain reply.Hither had strayed, while from the frost I fendMy tender myrtles, the he-goat himself,Lord of the flock; when Daphnis I espy!Soon as he saw me, "Hither haste," he cried,"O Meliboeus! goat and kids are safe;And, if you have an idle hour to spare,Rest here beneath the shade. Hither the steersWill through the meadows, of their own free will,Untended come to drink. Here Mincius hathWith tender rushes rimmed his verdant banks,And from yon sacred oak with busy humThe bees are swarming." What was I to do?No Phyllis or Alcippe left at homeHad I, to shelter my new-weaned lambs,And no slight matter was a singing-bout'Twixt Corydon and Thyrsis. Howsoe'er,I let my business wait upon their sport.So they began to sing, voice answering voiceIn strains alternate- for alternate strainsThe Muses then were minded to recall-First Corydon, then Thyrsis in reply.

"Libethrian Nymphs, who are my heart's delight,Grant me, as doth my Codrus, so to sing-Next to Apollo he- or if to thisWe may not all attain, my tuneful pipeHere on this sacred pine shall silent hang."

"Arcadian shepherds, wreathe with ivy-sprayYour budding poet, so that Codrus burstWith envy: if he praise beyond my due,Then bind my brow with foxglove, lest his tongueWith evil omen blight the coming bard."

"This bristling boar's head, Delian Maid, to thee,With branching antlers of a sprightly stag,Young Micon offers: if his luck but hold,Full-length in polished marble, ankle-boundWith purple buskin, shall thy statue stand."

"A bowl of milk, Priapus, and these cakes,Yearly, it is enough for thee to claim;Thou art the guardian of a poor man's plot.Wrought for a while in marble, if the flockAt lambing time be filled,stand there in gold."

"Daughter of Nereus, Galatea mine,Sweeter than Hybla-thyme, more white than swans,Fairer than ivy pale, soon as the steersShall from their pasture to the stalls repair,If aught for Corydon thou carest, come."

"Now may I seem more bitter to your tasteThan herb Sardinian, rougher than the broom,More worthless than strewn sea-weed, if to-dayHath not a year out-lasted! Fie for shame!Go home, my cattle, from your grazing go!"

"Ye mossy springs, and grass more soft than sleep,And arbute green with thin shade sheltering you,Ward off the solstice from my flock, for nowComes on the burning summer, now the budsUpon the limber vine-shoot 'gin to swell."

"Here is a hearth, and resinous logs, here fireUnstinted, and doors black with ceaseless smoke.Here heed we Boreas' icy breath as muchAs the wolf heeds the number of the flock,Or furious rivers their restraining banks."

"The junipers and prickly chestnuts stand,And 'neath each tree lie strewn their several fruits,Now the whole world is smiling, but if fairAlexis from these hill-slopes should away,Even the rivers you would ; see run dry."

"The field is parched, the grass-blades thirst to deathIn the faint air; Liber hath grudged the hillsHis vine's o'er-shadowing: should my Phyllis come,Green will be all the grove, and JupiterDescend in floods of fertilizing rain."

"The poplar doth Alcides hold most dear,The vine Iacchus, Phoebus his own bays,And Venus fair the myrtle: therewithalPhyllis doth hazels love, and while she loves,Myrtle nor bay the hazel shall out-vie."

"Ash in the forest is most beautiful,Pine in the garden, poplar by the stream,Fir on the mountain-height; but if more oftThou'ldst come to me, fair Lycidas, to theeBoth forest-ash, and garden-pine should bow."

These I remember, and how Thyrsis stroveFor victory in vain. From that time forthIs Corydon still Corydon with us.