Agræo, the diviner by the sieve,

Forewarned me also what I now believe,

(Binding the sheaves, the reapers followed she,)
That I loved wholly one who loved not me.
A white twin-bearing goat, which the brunette,
Old Memnon's child, Erithacis would get
By wheedling from me, I have kept as thine;
But since thou scornest me with airs so fine,
It shall be hers. A throbbing, I declare,
In my right eye-shall I behold my fair?
My ditty, leaning on this pine, I'll chant;
She'll haply look, since she's not adamant.

When in the race, mistrustful of his knees, To win the virgin ran Hippomenes; Three golden apples in his hand he took, And Atalanta could not help but look She saw, and maddened instant at the sight, And rushed into the gulf of love outright. The seer Melampus from Mount Othrys drove The stolen herd to Pylos. Thence did Love His brother Bias crown-for in his arms Alphesibæa's mother lodged her charms.

Did not Adonis, the fair shepherd youth,

So madden Cypris that for very ruth,

E'en when she had received his dying gasp,

She could not bear to loose him from her clasp?
Thrice blest, methinks, was that Endymion,
Now laid asleep; thrice blest Iäsion,

Who in his life did those sweet joys obtain,

Of which ye must not, shall not hear, profane!

How my head aches! my anguish doth not move thee; I'll sing no more, and since in vain I love thee, Here will I lie-me here the wolves shall eat; 'Twill be to thee like melting honey sweet.

IDYL IV.

THE SWAINS.

ARGUMENT.

Corydon tends the herd of one Ægon, who had gone as an athlete to the Olympian games. His companion, Battus, tries to provoke him with coarse jests. Corydon answers him gently. Battus, while driving off the calves, which are eating the olive branches, is wounded near the ankle by a thorn, which Corydon extracts for him.

IDYL IV.

THE SWAINS.

BATTUS AND CORYDON.

BATTUS.

WHOSE are these kine? Philondases, my friend?

CORYDON.

No-Egon's, and he gave them me to tend.

BATTUS.

Do you not milk them privily at eve?

CORYDON.

I could not the old man's quick eyes deceive;
And her own calf he puts to every one.

BATTUS.

But whither has the master cowherd gone?