Menalcas

Do you first begin,Good Mopsus, whether minded to sing aughtOf Phyllis and her loves, or Alcon's praise,Or to fling taunts at Codrus. Come, begin,While Tityrus watches o'er the grazing kids.

Nay, then, I will essay what late I carvedOn a green beech-tree's rind, playing by turns,And marking down the notes; then afterwardBid you Amyntas match them if he can.

As limber willow to pale olive yields,As lowly Celtic nard to rose-buds bright,So, to my mind, Amyntas yields to you.But hold awhile, for to the cave we come.

"For Daphnis cruelly slain wept all the Nymphs-Ye hazels, bear them witness, and ye streams-When she, his mother, clasping in her armsThe hapless body of the son she bare,To gods and stars unpitying, poured her plaint.Then, Daphnis, to the cooling streams were noneThat drove the pastured oxen, then no beastDrank of the river, or would the grass-blade touch.Nay, the wild rocks and woods then voiced the roarOf Afric lions mourning for thy death.Daphnis, 'twas thou bad'st yoke to Bacchus' carArmenian tigresses, lead on the pompOf revellers, and with tender foliage wreatheThe bending spear-wands. As to trees the vineIs crown of glory, as to vines the grape,Bulls to the herd, to fruitful fields the corn,So the one glory of thine own art thou.When the Fates took thee hence, then Pales' self,And even Apollo, left the country lone.Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed,There but wild oats and barren darnel spring;For tender violet and narcissus brightThistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads.Now, O ye shepherds, strew the ground with leaves,And o'er the fountains draw a shady veil-So Daphnis to his memory bids be done-And rear a tomb, and write thereon this verse:'I, Daphnis in the woods, from hence in fameAm to the stars exalted, guardian onceOf a fair flock, myself more fair than they.'"

So is thy song to me, poet divine,As slumber on the grass to weary limbs,Or to slake thirst from some sweet-bubbling rillIn summer's heat. Nor on the reeds alone,But with thy voice art thou, thrice happy boy,Ranked with thy master, second but to him.Yet will I, too, in turn, as best I may,Sing thee a song, and to the stars upliftThy Daphnis- Daphnis to the stars extol,For me too Daphnis loved.