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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=479701" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eclogue 4: Pollio</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">POLLIO</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Muses of Sicily, essay we now<br>A somewhat loftier task! Not all men love<br>Coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,<br>Woods worthy of a Consul let them be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung<br>Has come and gone, and the majestic roll<br>Of circling centuries begins anew:<br>Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,<br>With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.<br>Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom<br>The iron shall cease, the golden race arise,<br>Befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own<br>Apollo reigns. And in thy consulate,<br>This glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,<br>And the months enter on their mighty march.<br>Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain<br>Of our old wickedness, once done away,<br>Shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.<br>He shall receive the life of gods, and see<br>Heroes with gods commingling, and himself<br>Be seen of them, and with his father's worth<br>Reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy,<br>First shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth<br>Her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray<br>With foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,<br>And laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves,<br>Untended, will the she-goats then bring home<br>Their udders swollen with milk, while flocks afield<br>Shall of the monstrous lion have no fear.<br>Thy very cradle shall pour forth for thee<br>Caressing flowers. The serpent too shall die,<br>Die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far<br>And wide Assyrian spices spring. But soon<br>As thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,<br>And of thy father's deeds, and inly learn<br>What virtue is, the plain by slow degrees<br>With waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,<br>From the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,<br>And stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathless<br>Yet shall there lurk within of ancient wrong<br>Some traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships,<br>Gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth.<br>Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be,<br>Her hero-freight a second Argo bear;<br>New wars too shall arise, and once again<br>Some great Achilles to some Troy be sent.<br>Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man,<br>No more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree bark<br>Ply traffic on the sea, but every land<br>Shall all things bear alike: the glebe no more<br>Shall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook;<br>The sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer,<br>Nor wool with varying colours learn to lie;<br>But in the meadows shall the ram himself,<br>Now with soft flush of purple, now with tint<br>Of yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine.<br>While clothed in natural scarlet graze the lambs.<br>'Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,'<br>Sang to their spindles the consenting Fates<br>By Destiny's unalterable decree.<br>Assume thy greatness, for the time draws nigh,<br>Dear child of gods, great progeny of Jove!<br>See how it totters- the world's orbed might,<br>Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound,<br>All, see, enraptured of the coming time!<br>Ah! might such length of days to me be given,<br>And breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds,<br>Nor Thracian Orpheus should out-sing me then,<br>Nor Linus, though his mother this, and that<br>His sire should aid- Orpheus Calliope,<br>And Linus fair Apollo. Nay, though Pan,<br>With Arcady for judge, my claim contest,<br>With Arcady for judge great Pan himself<br>Should own him foiled, and from the field retire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Begin to greet thy mother with a smile,<br>O baby-boy! ten months of weariness<br>For thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin!<br>For him, on whom his parents have not smiled,<br>Gods deem not worthy of their board or bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Publius+Vergilius+Maro">Publius Vergilius Maro</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=479701" data-title="Eclogue 4: Pollio de Publius Vergilius Maro" data-description="POLLIO

Muses of Sicily, essay we now
A somewhat loftier task! Not all men love
Coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,
Woods worthy of a Consul let them be.

Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of cir..."></div>
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