8
DAMON
Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring
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your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts:
forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star!
O worthy of thy mate, while all men else
thou scornest, and with loathing dost behold
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my shepherd's pipe, my goats, my shaggy brow,
and untrimmed beard, nor deem'st that any god
for mortal doings hath regard or care.
Once with your mother, in our orchard-garth,
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a little maid I saw you—I your guide—
plucking the dewy apples. My twelfth year
I scarce had entered, and could barely reach
the brittle boughs. I looked, and I was lost;
a sudden frenzy swept my wits away.
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Now know I what Love is: 'mid savage rocks
tmaros or Rhodope brought forth the boy,
or Garamantes in earth's utmost bounds—
no kin of ours, nor of our blood begot.
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Fierce Love it was once steeled a mother's heart
with her own offspring's blood her hands to imbrue:
