Classic Poem

Egloga secunda.

[The Second Eclogue.]

Dametas

My beasts, go feed upon the plain,
and let your herdman lie.
Thou seest her mind, and fear'st thou now,
Dametas, for to die?
Why stayest thou thus? why dost thou stay?
thy life too long doth last.
Account this flood thy fatal grave
sith time of hope is past.
What mean'st thou thus to linger on?
thy life would fain depart:
Alas, the wound doth fester still
of cursed Cupid's dart.
No salve but this can help thy sore,
nothing can move her mind;
She hath decreed, that thou shalt die,
no help there is to find.
Now sith there is no other help,
nor ought but this to try,
Thou seest her mind: why fear'st thou then,
Dametas, for to die?
Long hast thou served, and served true,
but all, alas, in vain,
For she thy service nought esteems
but deals thee grief for gain.
For thy goodwill, (a gay reward)
disdain, for love she gives.
Thou lovest her while thy life doth last,
she hates thee while she lives.
Thou flam'st whenas thou seest her face
with heat of high desire,
She flames again, but how? alas,
with deep disdainful ire.
The greatest pleasure is to thee
to see her void of pain;
The greatest grief to her again
to see thy health remain.
Thou covet'st ever her to find,
she seeks from thee to fly;
Thou seest her mind: why fear'st thou then,
Dametas, for to die?
Dost thou account it best to keep
thy life in sorrows still?
Or think'st thou best it now to live,
contrary to her will?
Think'st thou thy life for to retain
when she is not content?
Canst thou addict thyself to live
and she to murder bent?
Dost thou intend again to sue
for mercy at her hands?
As soon thou may'st go plough the rocks
and reap upon the sands.
Draw near, O mighty herd of beasts,
sith no man else is by,
Your herdman long that hath you kept,
Dametas now must die.
Resolve your brutish eyes to tears
and all together cry,
Bewail the woeful end of love:
Dametas now must die.
My pleasant songs now shall you hear
no more on mountains high.
I leave you all, I must be gone.
Dametas now must die.
To Tityrus I you resign,
in pasture good to lie,
For Tityrus shall keep you, though
Dametas now must die.
O cursed cause that hath me slain
my troth, alas, to try:
O shepherds all, be witnesses,
Dametas here doth die.
Finis Eglogae secundae.