6–7
for lack there will not who would laud thy deeds,
and treat of dolorous wars—will rather tune
to the slim oaten reed my silvan lay.
10
I sing but as vouchsafed me; yet even this
if, if but one with ravished eyes should read,
of thee, O Varus, shall our tamarisks
and all the woodland ring; nor can there be
a page more dear to Phoebus, than the page
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where, foremost writ, the name of Varus stands.
daphnis beneath a rustling ilex-tree
had sat him down; Thyrsis and Corydon
had gathered in the flock, Thyrsis the sheep,
and Corydon the she-goats swollen with milk—
both in the flower of age, Arcadians both,
5
ready to sing, and in like strain reply.
Hither had strayed, while from the frost I fend
my tender myrtles, the he-goat himself,
lord of the flock; when Daphnis I espy!
Soon as he saw me, “Hither haste,” he cried,
10
“O Meliboeus! goat and kids are safe;
