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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=479702" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eclogue 5: Menalcas Mopsus</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>Why, Mopsus, being both together met,<br>You skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds,<br>I to sing ditties, do we not sit down<br>Here where the elm-trees and the hazels blend?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS<br>You are the elder, 'tis for me to bide<br>Your choice, Menalcas, whether now we seek<br>Yon shade that quivers to the changeful breeze,<br>Or the cave's shelter. Look you how the cave<br>Is with the wild vine's clusters over-laced!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>None but Amyntas on these hills of ours<br>Can vie with you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What if he also strive<br>To out-sing Phoebus?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do you first begin,<br>Good Mopsus, whether minded to sing aught<br>Of Phyllis and her loves, or Alcon's praise,<br>Or to fling taunts at Codrus. Come, begin,<br>While Tityrus watches o'er the grazing kids.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS<br>Nay, then, I will essay what late I carved<br>On a green beech-tree's rind, playing by turns,<br>And marking down the notes; then afterward<br>Bid you Amyntas match them if he can.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>As limber willow to pale olive yields,<br>As lowly Celtic nard to rose-buds bright,<br>So, to my mind, Amyntas yields to you.<br>But hold awhile, for to the cave we come.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS<br>'For Daphnis cruelly slain wept all the Nymphs-<br>Ye hazels, bear them witness, and ye streams-<br>When she, his mother, clasping in her arms<br>The hapless body of the son she bare,<br>To gods and stars unpitying, poured her plaint.<br>Then, Daphnis, to the cooling streams were none<br>That drove the pastured oxen, then no beast<br>Drank of the river, or would the grass-blade touch.<br>Nay, the wild rocks and woods then voiced the roar<br>Of Afric lions mourning for thy death.<br>Daphnis, 'twas thou bad'st yoke to Bacchus' car<br>Armenian tigresses, lead on the pomp<br>Of revellers, and with tender foliage wreathe<br>The bending spear-wands. As to trees the vine<br>Is crown of glory, as to vines the grape,<br>Bulls to the herd, to fruitful fields the corn,<br>So the one glory of thine own art thou.<br>When the Fates took thee hence, then Pales' self,<br>And even Apollo, left the country lone.<br>Where the plump barley-grain so oft we sowed,<br>There but wild oats and barren darnel spring;<br>For tender violet and narcissus bright<br>Thistle and prickly thorn uprear their heads.<br>Now, O ye shepherds, strew the ground with leaves,<br>And o'er the fountains draw a shady veil-<br>So Daphnis to his memory bids be done-<br>And rear a tomb, and write thereon this verse:<br>'I, Daphnis in the woods, from hence in fame<br>Am to the stars exalted, guardian once<br>Of a fair flock, myself more fair than they.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>So is thy song to me, poet divine,<br>As slumber on the grass to weary limbs,<br>Or to slake thirst from some sweet-bubbling rill<br>In summer's heat. Nor on the reeds alone,<br>But with thy voice art thou, thrice happy boy,<br>Ranked with thy master, second but to him.<br>Yet will I, too, in turn, as best I may,<br>Sing thee a song, and to the stars uplift<br>Thy Daphnis- Daphnis to the stars extol,<br>For me too Daphnis loved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than such a boon<br>What dearer could I deem? the boy himself<br>Was worthy to be sung, and many a time<br>Hath Stimichon to me your singing praised.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>'In dazzling sheen with unaccustomed eyes<br>Daphnis stands rapt before Olympus' gate,<br>And sees beneath his feet the clouds and stars.<br>Wherefore the woods and fields, Pan, shepherd-folk,<br>And Dryad-maidens, thrill with eager joy;<br>Nor wolf with treacherous wile assails the flock,<br>Nor nets the stag: kind Daphnis loveth peace.<br>The unshorn mountains to the stars up-toss<br>Voices of gladness; ay, the very rocks,<br>The very thickets, shout and sing, 'A god,<br>A god is he, Menalcas 'Be thou kind,<br>Propitious to thine own. Lo! altars four,<br>Twain to thee, Daphnis, and to Phoebus twain<br>For sacrifice, we build; and I for thee<br>Two beakers yearly of fresh milk afoam,<br>And of rich olive-oil two bowls, will set;<br>And of the wine-god's bounty above all,<br>If cold, before the hearth, or in the shade<br>At harvest-time, to glad the festal hour,<br>From flasks of Ariusian grape will pour<br>Sweet nectar. Therewithal at my behest<br>Shall Lyctian Aegon and Damoetas sing,<br>And Alphesiboeus emulate in dance<br>The dancing Satyrs. This, thy service due,<br>Shalt thou lack never, both when we pay the Nymphs<br>Our yearly vows, and when with lustral rites<br>The fields we hallow. Long as the wild boar<br>Shall love the mountain-heights, and fish the streams,<br>While bees on thyme and crickets feed on dew,<br>Thy name, thy praise, thine honour, shall endure.<br>Even as to Bacchus and to Ceres, so<br>To thee the swain his yearly vows shall make;<br>And thou thereof, like them, shalt quittance claim.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS<br>How, how repay thee for a song so rare?<br>For not the whispering south-wind on its way<br>So much delights me, nor wave-smitten beach,<br>Nor streams that race adown their bouldered beds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MENALCAS<br>First this frail hemlock-stalk to you I give,<br>Which taught me 'Corydon with love was fired<br>For fair Alexis,' ay, and this beside,<br>'Who owns the flock?- Meliboeus?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MOPSUS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But take you<br>This shepherd's crook, which, howso hard he begged,<br>Antigenes, then worthy to be loved,<br>Prevailed not to obtain- with brass, you see,<br>And equal knots, Menalcas, fashioned fair!</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=479702" data-title="Eclogue 5: Menalcas Mopsus de Publius Vergilius Maro" data-description="MENALCAS
Why, Mopsus, being both together met,
You skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds,
I to sing ditties, do we not sit down
Here where the elm-trees and the hazels blend?

MOPSUS
You are the elder, 'tis for me to bide
Your choice, Menalcas..."></div>
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