The Fifth Pastoral
MENALCAS, MOPSUS .
MENALCAS .
Since you with skill can touch the tuneful reed,
Since few my verses or my voice exceed;
In this refreshing shade shall we recline,
Where hasles with the lofty elms combine?
MOPSUS
Your riper age a due respect requires,
'Tis mine to yield to what my friend desires;
Whether you choose the zephyr's fanning breeze,
That shakes the wavering shadows of the trees;
Or the deep-shaded grotto's cool retreat: —
And see yon cave screen'd from the scorching heat,
Where the wild vine its curling tendrils weaves,
Whose grapes glow ruddy through the quivering leaves.
MENALCAS.
O F all the swains that to our hills belong,
A MYNTAS only vies with you in song.
MOPSUS.
W HAT , though with me that haughty shepherd vie,
Who proudly dares A POLLO'S self defy?
MENALCAS.
B EGIN ; let A LCON'S praise inspire your strains,
Or C ODRUS ' death, or P HYLLIS ' amorous pains;
Begin, whatever theme your Muse prefer.
To feed the kids be, T ITYRUS , thy care.
MOPSUS.
I RATHER will repeat that mournful song,
Which late I carv'd the verdant beeche along;
(I carv'd, and trill'd by turns the labour'd lay)
And let A MYNTAS march me if he may.
MENALCAS.
As slender willows where the olive grows,
Or sordid shrubs when near the scarlet rose,
Such (if the judgment I have form'd be true)
Such is A MYNTAS when compar'd with you.
MOPSUS.
No more, M ENALCAS ; we delay too long,
The grot's dim shade invites my promis'd song.
When D APHNIS fell by fate's remorseless blow,
The weeping nymphs pour'd wild the plaint of woe;
Witness, O hazle-grove, and winding stream,
For all your echoes caught the mournful theme.
In agony of grief his Mother prest
The clay-cold carcase to her throbbing breast,
Frantic with anguish wail'd his hapless fate,
Rav'd at the stars, and heaven's relentless hate,
'Twas then the swains in deep despair forsook
Their pining flocks, nor led them to the brook;
The pining flocks for him their pastures slight,
Nor grassy plains, nor cooling streams invite.
The doleful tidings reach'd the Libyan shores,
And lions mourn'd in deep repeated roars.
His cruel doom the woodlands wild bewail,
And plaintive hills repeat the melancholy tale.
'Twas he, who first Armenia's tygers broke,
And tam'd their stubborn natures to the yoke;
He first with ivy wrapt the thyrsus round,
And made the hills with B ACCHUS ' rites resound
As vines adorn the trees which they entwine,
As purple clusters beautify the vine,
As bulls the herd, as corns the fertile plains,
The godlike D APHNIS dignified the swains.
When D APHNIS from our eager hopes was torn,
P HOEBUS and P ALES left the plains to mourn.
Now weeds and wretched tares the crop subdue,
Where store of generous wheat but lately grew.
Narcissus' lovely flower no more is seen,
No more the velvet violet decks the green;
Thistles for these the blasted meadow yields,
And thorns and frizled burs deform the fields.
Swains, shade the springs, and let the ground be drest
With verdant leaves; 'twas D APHNIS ' last request.
Erect a tomb in honour to his name
Mark'd with this verse to celebrate his fame,
" The swains with D APHNIS ' name this tomb " adorn,
" Whose high renown above the skies is born;
" Fair was his flock, he fairest on the plain,
" The pride the glory of the sylvan reign."
MENALCAS
S WEETER , O bard divine, thy numbers seem,
Than to the scorched swain the cooling stream,
Or soft on fragrant flowrets to recline,
And the tir'd limbs to balmy sleep resign.
Blest youth! whose voice and pipe demand the praise
Due but to thine, and to thy master's lays.
I in return the darling theme will chuse,
And D APHNIS ' praises shall inspire my Muse;
He in my song shall high as heaven ascend,
High as the heavens, for D APHNIS was my friend.
MOPSUS.
H IS virtues sure our noblest numbers claim;
Nought can delight me more than such a theme,
Which in your song new dignity obtains;
Oft has our S TIMICHON extol'd the strains.
MENALCAS.
N OW D APHNIS shines, among the Gods a God,
Struck with the splendors of his new abode.
Beneath his footstool far remote appear
The clouds slow-sailing, and the starry sphere.
Hence lawns and groves with gladsome raptures ring,
The swains, the nymphs, and P AN in concert sing.
The wolves to murder are no more inclin'd,
No guileful nets ensnare the wandering hind,
Deceit and violence and rapine cease,
For D APHNIS loves the gentle arts of peace.
From savage mountains shouts of transport rise
Born in triumphant echoes to the skies;
The rocks and shrubs emit melodious sounds,
Through nature's vast extent THE G OD THE G OD rebounds.
Be gracious still, still present to our pray'r;
Four altars lo we build with pious care,
Two for th' inspiring God of song divine,
And two, propitious D APHNIS , shall be thine.
Two bowls white-foaming with their milky store,
Of generous oil two brimming goblets more,
Each year we shall present before thy shrine,
And chear the feast with liberal draughts of wine;
Before the fire when winter-storms invade,
In summer's heat beneath the breezy shade.
The hallow'd bowls with wine of Chios crown'd
Shall pour their sparkling nectar to the ground.
D AMOETAS shall with Lyctian Æ GON play,
And celebrate with festive strains the day.
A LPHESIBOEUS to the sprightly song
Shall like the dancing Satyrs trip along.
These rites shall still be paid, so justly due,
Both when the Nymphs receive our annual vow;
And when with solemn songs, and victims crown'd,
Our lands in long procession we surround.
While fishes love the streams and briny deep,
And savage boars the mountain's rocky steep,
While grashoppers their dewy food delights,
While balmy thyme the busy bee invites;
So long shall last thine honours and thy fame,
So long the shepherds shall resound thy name.
Such rites to thee shall husbandmen ordain,
A S C ERES and the God of wine obtain.
Thou to our prayers propitiously inclin'd
Thy grateful suppliants to their vows shalt bind.
MOPSUS.
W HAT boon, dear shepherd, can your song requite?
For nought in nature yields so sweet delight,
Not the soft sighing of the southern gale,
That faintly breathes along the flowery vale;
Nor, when light breezes curl the liquid plain,
To tread the margin of the murmuring main;
Nor melody of streams, that roll away
Through rocky dales, delights me as your lay.
MENALCAS.
No mean reward, my friend, your verses claim;
Take then thisflute that breath'd the plaintive theme
Of C ORYDON ; when proud D AMOETAS try'd
To match my skill, it dash'd his hasty pride.
MOPSUS.
A ND let this sheepcrook by my friend be worn,
Which brazen studs in beamy rows adorn;
This fair A NTIGENES oft beg'd to gain,
But all his beauty, all his prayers were vain.
MENALCAS .
Since you with skill can touch the tuneful reed,
Since few my verses or my voice exceed;
In this refreshing shade shall we recline,
Where hasles with the lofty elms combine?
MOPSUS
Your riper age a due respect requires,
'Tis mine to yield to what my friend desires;
Whether you choose the zephyr's fanning breeze,
That shakes the wavering shadows of the trees;
Or the deep-shaded grotto's cool retreat: —
And see yon cave screen'd from the scorching heat,
Where the wild vine its curling tendrils weaves,
Whose grapes glow ruddy through the quivering leaves.
MENALCAS.
O F all the swains that to our hills belong,
A MYNTAS only vies with you in song.
MOPSUS.
W HAT , though with me that haughty shepherd vie,
Who proudly dares A POLLO'S self defy?
MENALCAS.
B EGIN ; let A LCON'S praise inspire your strains,
Or C ODRUS ' death, or P HYLLIS ' amorous pains;
Begin, whatever theme your Muse prefer.
To feed the kids be, T ITYRUS , thy care.
MOPSUS.
I RATHER will repeat that mournful song,
Which late I carv'd the verdant beeche along;
(I carv'd, and trill'd by turns the labour'd lay)
And let A MYNTAS march me if he may.
MENALCAS.
As slender willows where the olive grows,
Or sordid shrubs when near the scarlet rose,
Such (if the judgment I have form'd be true)
Such is A MYNTAS when compar'd with you.
MOPSUS.
No more, M ENALCAS ; we delay too long,
The grot's dim shade invites my promis'd song.
When D APHNIS fell by fate's remorseless blow,
The weeping nymphs pour'd wild the plaint of woe;
Witness, O hazle-grove, and winding stream,
For all your echoes caught the mournful theme.
In agony of grief his Mother prest
The clay-cold carcase to her throbbing breast,
Frantic with anguish wail'd his hapless fate,
Rav'd at the stars, and heaven's relentless hate,
'Twas then the swains in deep despair forsook
Their pining flocks, nor led them to the brook;
The pining flocks for him their pastures slight,
Nor grassy plains, nor cooling streams invite.
The doleful tidings reach'd the Libyan shores,
And lions mourn'd in deep repeated roars.
His cruel doom the woodlands wild bewail,
And plaintive hills repeat the melancholy tale.
'Twas he, who first Armenia's tygers broke,
And tam'd their stubborn natures to the yoke;
He first with ivy wrapt the thyrsus round,
And made the hills with B ACCHUS ' rites resound
As vines adorn the trees which they entwine,
As purple clusters beautify the vine,
As bulls the herd, as corns the fertile plains,
The godlike D APHNIS dignified the swains.
When D APHNIS from our eager hopes was torn,
P HOEBUS and P ALES left the plains to mourn.
Now weeds and wretched tares the crop subdue,
Where store of generous wheat but lately grew.
Narcissus' lovely flower no more is seen,
No more the velvet violet decks the green;
Thistles for these the blasted meadow yields,
And thorns and frizled burs deform the fields.
Swains, shade the springs, and let the ground be drest
With verdant leaves; 'twas D APHNIS ' last request.
Erect a tomb in honour to his name
Mark'd with this verse to celebrate his fame,
" The swains with D APHNIS ' name this tomb " adorn,
" Whose high renown above the skies is born;
" Fair was his flock, he fairest on the plain,
" The pride the glory of the sylvan reign."
MENALCAS
S WEETER , O bard divine, thy numbers seem,
Than to the scorched swain the cooling stream,
Or soft on fragrant flowrets to recline,
And the tir'd limbs to balmy sleep resign.
Blest youth! whose voice and pipe demand the praise
Due but to thine, and to thy master's lays.
I in return the darling theme will chuse,
And D APHNIS ' praises shall inspire my Muse;
He in my song shall high as heaven ascend,
High as the heavens, for D APHNIS was my friend.
MOPSUS.
H IS virtues sure our noblest numbers claim;
Nought can delight me more than such a theme,
Which in your song new dignity obtains;
Oft has our S TIMICHON extol'd the strains.
MENALCAS.
N OW D APHNIS shines, among the Gods a God,
Struck with the splendors of his new abode.
Beneath his footstool far remote appear
The clouds slow-sailing, and the starry sphere.
Hence lawns and groves with gladsome raptures ring,
The swains, the nymphs, and P AN in concert sing.
The wolves to murder are no more inclin'd,
No guileful nets ensnare the wandering hind,
Deceit and violence and rapine cease,
For D APHNIS loves the gentle arts of peace.
From savage mountains shouts of transport rise
Born in triumphant echoes to the skies;
The rocks and shrubs emit melodious sounds,
Through nature's vast extent THE G OD THE G OD rebounds.
Be gracious still, still present to our pray'r;
Four altars lo we build with pious care,
Two for th' inspiring God of song divine,
And two, propitious D APHNIS , shall be thine.
Two bowls white-foaming with their milky store,
Of generous oil two brimming goblets more,
Each year we shall present before thy shrine,
And chear the feast with liberal draughts of wine;
Before the fire when winter-storms invade,
In summer's heat beneath the breezy shade.
The hallow'd bowls with wine of Chios crown'd
Shall pour their sparkling nectar to the ground.
D AMOETAS shall with Lyctian Æ GON play,
And celebrate with festive strains the day.
A LPHESIBOEUS to the sprightly song
Shall like the dancing Satyrs trip along.
These rites shall still be paid, so justly due,
Both when the Nymphs receive our annual vow;
And when with solemn songs, and victims crown'd,
Our lands in long procession we surround.
While fishes love the streams and briny deep,
And savage boars the mountain's rocky steep,
While grashoppers their dewy food delights,
While balmy thyme the busy bee invites;
So long shall last thine honours and thy fame,
So long the shepherds shall resound thy name.
Such rites to thee shall husbandmen ordain,
A S C ERES and the God of wine obtain.
Thou to our prayers propitiously inclin'd
Thy grateful suppliants to their vows shalt bind.
MOPSUS.
W HAT boon, dear shepherd, can your song requite?
For nought in nature yields so sweet delight,
Not the soft sighing of the southern gale,
That faintly breathes along the flowery vale;
Nor, when light breezes curl the liquid plain,
To tread the margin of the murmuring main;
Nor melody of streams, that roll away
Through rocky dales, delights me as your lay.
MENALCAS.
No mean reward, my friend, your verses claim;
Take then thisflute that breath'd the plaintive theme
Of C ORYDON ; when proud D AMOETAS try'd
To match my skill, it dash'd his hasty pride.
MOPSUS.
A ND let this sheepcrook by my friend be worn,
Which brazen studs in beamy rows adorn;
This fair A NTIGENES oft beg'd to gain,
But all his beauty, all his prayers were vain.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.