| Theocritus, Idylls (English) (XML Header) [genre: poetry] [word count] [lemma count] [Theoc. Id.]. | ||
| <<Theoc. Id. 1.1 | Theoc. Id. 1.71 (Greek) | >>Theoc. Id. 1.146 |
1.45 And but a little removed from master Weather-beat there’s a vineyard well laden with clusters red to the ripening, and a little lad seated watching upon a hedge. And on either side of him two foxes; this ranges to and fro along the rows and pilfers all such grapes as be ready for eating, while that setteth all his cunning at the lad’s wallet, and vows he will not let him be till he have set him breaking his fast note with but poor victuals to his drink. note And all the time the urchin’s got star-flower-stalks a-platting to a reed for to make him a pretty gin for locusts, and cares never so much, not he, for his wallet or his vines as he takes pleasure in his platting. And for an end, mark you, spread all about he cup goes the lissom bear’s-foot, a sight worth the seeing with its writhen leaves; ‘tis a marvellous work, ‘twill amaze your heart.
1.57 Now for that cup a ferryman of Calymnus note had a goat and a gallant great cheese-loaf of me, and never yet hath it touched my lip; it still lies unhandselled by. Yet right welcome to it art thou, if like a good fellow thou’lt sing me that pleasing and delightful song. Nay, not so; I am in right earnest. To’t, good friend; sure thou wilt not be hoarding that song against thuo be’st come where all’s forgot?
Where were ye, Nymphs, when Daphnis pined? ye Nymphs, O where were ye?
Was it Peneius’ note pretty vale, or Pindus’ note glens? ‘twas never
Anápus’ note flood nor Etna’s pike nor Acis’ note holy river.
The lion from the greenward wept when Daphnis was no more.
Many the claves and many the kine that made their moan for him.
“Who is’t that fretteth thee, my son? whom lovest thou so well?”
All fain to hear what ail’d him; Priápus came and cried
“Why peak and pine, unhappy wight, when thou mightest bed a bride?
“For there’s nor wood nor water but hath seen her footsteps flee –
“Neatherd, forsooth? ‘tis goatherd now, or ‘faith, ‘tis like to be;
“When goatherd in the rutting-time the skipping kids doth scan,
“His eye grows soft, his eye grows sad, because he’s born a man; –
“Your eye grows soft, your eye grows sad, because you share it not.”
But never a word said the poor neathérd, for a bitter love bare he;
And he bare it well, as I shall tell, to the end that was to be.
For thou she fain would foster wrath, she could not choose but smile –
And cried “Ah, braggart Daphnis, that wouldst throw Love so featly!
“Thou’rt thrown, methinks, thyself of Love’s so grievous guile.”
“Cypris hated of all flesh! think’st all my sun be set?
“I tell thee even ‘mong the dead Daphnis shall work thee ill: –
“Begone to hind Anchises; sure bedstraw there doth thrive
“And fine oak-trees and pretty bees all humming at the hive.
“And shoots the hare and a-hunting goes of all the beasts there be.
“’I slew the neatherd Daphis; fight me thou to-day.’
“Your neatherd fere, your Daphnis dear, ye’ll never see agen,
“By glen no more, by glade no more. And ‘tis o farewell to thee
“Sweet Arethuse, note and all pretty watérs down Thymbris vale that flee.
THYRSIS (sings)
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses.
1.65 ‘Tis Thyrsis sings, of Etna, and a rare sweet voice hath he.Where were ye, Nymphs, when Daphnis pined? ye Nymphs, O where were ye?
Was it Peneius’ note pretty vale, or Pindus’ note glens? ‘twas never
Anápus’ note flood nor Etna’s pike nor Acis’ note holy river.
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses.
1.71 When Daphnis died the foxes wailed and the wolves they wailed full sore,The lion from the greenward wept when Daphnis was no more.
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses.
1.74 O many the lusty steers at his feet, and may the heifers slim,Many the claves and many the kine that made their moan for him.
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses.
1.77 Came Hermes first, from the hills away, and said “O Daphnis tell,“Who is’t that fretteth thee, my son? whom lovest thou so well?”
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses.
1.80 The neatherds came, the shepherds came, and the goatherds him beside,All fain to hear what ail’d him; Priápus came and cried
“Why peak and pine, unhappy wight, when thou mightest bed a bride?
“For there’s nor wood nor water but hath seen her footsteps flee –
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses –
1.85 “In search o’ thee. O a fool-in-love and a feeble is here, perdye!“Neatherd, forsooth? ‘tis goatherd now, or ‘faith, ‘tis like to be;
“When goatherd in the rutting-time the skipping kids doth scan,
“His eye grows soft, his eye grows sad, because he’s born a man; –
Country-song, sing country-song, sweet Muses –
1.90 “So you, when ye see the lasses laughing in gay riot,“Your eye grows soft, your eye grows sad, because you share it not.”
But never a word said the poor neathérd, for a bitter love bare he;
And he bare it well, as I shall tell, to the end that was to be.
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.95 But and the Cyprian came him to, and smiled on him full sweetly –For thou she fain would foster wrath, she could not choose but smile –
And cried “Ah, braggart Daphnis, that wouldst throw Love so featly!
“Thou’rt thrown, methinks, thyself of Love’s so grievous guile.”
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.100 Then out he spake; “O Cypris cruel, Cypris vengeful yet,“Cypris hated of all flesh! think’st all my sun be set?
“I tell thee even ‘mong the dead Daphnis shall work thee ill: –
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.104 “Men talk of Cypris and the hind; begone to Ida hill,“Begone to hind Anchises; sure bedstraw there doth thrive
“And fine oak-trees and pretty bees all humming at the hive.
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.109 “Adonis too is ripe to woo, for a ‘tends his sheep o’ the lea“And shoots the hare and a-hunting goes of all the beasts there be.
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.112 And then I’ld have thee take thy stand by Diomed, and say“’I slew the neatherd Daphis; fight me thou to-day.’
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
1.115 “But ‘tis wolf farewell and fox farewell and bear o’ the mountain den,“Your neatherd fere, your Daphnis dear, ye’ll never see agen,
“By glen no more, by glade no more. And ‘tis o farewell to thee
“Sweet Arethuse, note and all pretty watérs down Thymbris vale that flee.
Country-song, more country-song, ye Muses.
| Theocritus, Idylls (English) (XML Header) [genre: poetry] [word count] [lemma count] [Theoc. Id.]. | ||
| <<Theoc. Id. 1.1 | Theoc. Id. 1.71 (Greek) | >>Theoc. Id. 1.146 |
