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Arethusa), was undertaken A. U.C.717, at the request of Gallus, whose hapless love it records: thus extending the period occupied in writing the Eclogues over seven years, from A. U. C. 710 to 717. The order of them appears to have been (different from their usual location) Alexis, Palæmon, Daphnis, Tityrus, Maris, Silenus, Pollio, Pharmaceutria, Melibæus, and Gallus.

This closing effort, Arethusa, aid;
A few brief strains be to my Gallus paid :
What bard to Gallus can a lay refuse?
And may Lycoris' eye that lay peruse.
So, as thou glidest beneath Sicilia's brine,

5 Her wave no bitter sea-nymph blend with thine!

Begin: record we Gallus, love's sad prey; Our goats, meanwhile, will browse the tenderispray. Nor sing we to the deaf; the woods reply, And bear the strains of sadness to the sky, 10

Nymphs, o'er what lawns, what forests did ye

rove, When Gallus faded in disastrous love? For then nor Pindus nor the Phocian mount Detain'd your steps, nor Aganippe's fount. For him the bay, for him the tamarisk pined; 15 For him, beneath their craggy feet reclined, Even Mænalus the dews of sorrow shed, And cold Lycæus on his craggy bed.

3 So Pope, in his “ Windsor Forest ;"

What muse for Granville can refuse to sing ? The same poet has also in his second Pastoral happily imitated vv. 9, 10.

Lycoris is supposed to have been Cytheris, an actress of those times.

The old mythology states that Alpheus, a river of Peloponnesus, fell in love with the nymph Arethusa ; who, flying from his pursuit, was metamorphosed by Diana into a fountain, and made her escape under the sea to Ortygia, an island near Sicily.-See Æneid ix.

11 Imitated from Theocritus, and by Pope, as likewise by Milton in his “Lycidas,"__"Where were ye, nymphs,” &c


The sheep stand round, nor slight their master's pain; -Nor thou, bright bard, the humble flock dis

dain: In beauty's prime beside the lucid flood, Well pleased, Adonis fed his fleecy brood. The shepherd came; and, with the herdsnien last, Menalcas dripping from the snow-soak'd mast. All seek thy passion's source. Apollo came; 25 And, " Whence this phrensy, Ga is? She, thy

flame Lycoris, for another swain,” he cries, “Braves barbarous camps and winter's dreary skies." With woodland wreath came old Sylvanus crown'd, Fennel and largest lilies nodding round.

30 Pan, too, we saw : th' Arcadian god appear'd With vermil die and elder-berries smeard; “And yet this grief?” he asks. 66 In vain it flows: No glut of tears insatiate Cupid knows. Sooner shall herbage moisture cease to love, 35 The bee his trefoil, goats the budding groye.” 2" But you, Arcadians, deign,” sad Gallus cried, "To sing my sorrows on each mountain's side : You, only, of the poet's art possest; And softly, sweetly, will my relics rest,

40 If by your simple reeds my suffering be express'd.

“Ah! had I, one of you, your flocks or fed, Or pluck'd the grape with luscious ripeness red ! Then, whomsoe'er had woo'd my amorous strainOr Phyllis, or Amyntas--we had lain

45 In willowy bower o’erhung with flaunting vine ; And he would sing, or she the chaplet twine. Nor had I cared that dusky he to view : Dusky the hyacinth's, the violet's hue. Here cooling springs, Lycoris, meadows gay 50 With flowers, and winding glades invite to stray; Here could I, blest with thee, wile life's fleet hours


30, 32 On the “ fennel” and “elder," see Martyn in loc.

“Me reckless love in iron fields detains,
Where all the fury of the battle reigns :
Thou tread'st—and is it true? perfidious fair, 55
No Gallus at thy side to shield or share-
Dauntless tread'st Alpine sñows, and ice-bound

Ah! may no ice wound those soft feet of thine,
Nor arrowy sleet that tender person pierce!
For me, adapting my Chalcidian verse

To pastoral pipe, I'll sylvan strains rehearse.
Yes, 'tis resolved : ’mid wildest lairs I'll go,
And there in solitude endure my wo;
Carve on the tender rind my tale of love,
And mark it growing with the growing grove. 65
Or Mænalus, with mingling nymphs I'll tread;
Or chase the tusky savage, undismay'd ;
Nor storms shall stay me, as with faithful hound
Arcadia's forest-depths I girdle round.
Now over rocks, through groves, I seem to go; 70
Now twang my shafts from Parthia's horned bow :
As if such toils the tyrant could remove,
Or any human art could medicine love!

“Ah! nor by wood-nymphs I, nor woodland strain, Solaced or soothed! Farewell, ye woods again. 75 Vainly to tame the obdurate god we try : Not should our lip drain wintry Hebrus dry, Not though our foot 'mid storms trod Thracia's

snows, Not though we fed our flocks where Cancer glows On Indian sands, and peels the towering grove- 80 Love conquers and we must yield to love."


Enough, ye Muses, has your bard essay'd, Weaving his rushy basket in the shade. These numbers you to Gallus will endear; Gallus, for whom, as year succeeds to year,


60 Gallus is said to have translated the works of Euphorion, a native of Chalcis in Eubea, into Latin.

My love still grows, as in the vernal prime
The alder's shoots with strong luxuriance climb.

Rise we; shades, e'en of juniper, annoy
The minstrel choir, the ripening grain destroy:
Goats, from your pastures sated,

homeward hie 90 See, where bright Hesper fires the evening sky!

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