The heights of Mænalus-leave them awhile,
And hasten to thy own Sicilian isle.

The tomb, which e'en the gods admire, leave now

Lycaon's tomb and Helice's tall brow.

Hasten, my king! and take this pipe that clips,
Uttering its honey breath, the player's lips.
For even now, dragged downward, must I go,
By love dragged down to Hades' house below.
Now violets, ye thorns and brambles bear!
Narcissus now on junipers appear!

And on the pine-tree pears! Since Daphnis dies,
To their own use all things be contraries!
The stag trail hounds; in rivalry their song
The mountain owls with nightingales prolong!'

He said and ceased: and Cypris wished, indeed,
To raise him up, but she could not succeed;
His fate-allotted threads of life were spent,

And Daphnis to the doleful river went.

The whirlpool gorged him-by the Nymphs not scorned, Dear to the Muses, and by them adorned.

Cease! cease, ye Muses! the bucolic strain. Give me the cup and goat that I may drain The pure milk from her; and, for duty's sake, A due libation to the Muses make.

All hail, ye Muses! hail, and favour me,

And my hereafter song

shall sweeter be.

GOATHERD.

Honey and honey-combs melt in thy mouth,
And figs from Ægilus! For thou, dear youth,
The musical cicada dost excel.

Behold the cup! How sweetly doth it smell!
'Twill seem to thee as though the lovely Hours
Had newly dipt it in their fountain-showers.
Hither, Cissætha! Milk her;-yearling friskers,
Forbear-behold the ram's huge beard and whiskers!

IDYL II.

PHARMACEUTRIA.

ARGUMENT.

Simætha, a young woman of Syracuse, endeavours to recall, by enchantments, her lover Delphis, who had forsaken her. She performs her magic rites, which are minutely described, by moonlight. When her incantations are finished, being left alone she describes the origin and progress of her passion. She addresses the Moon, as presiding over magical rites; and finally threatens the life of Delphis in the event of his not returning to her.

IDYL II.

PHARMACEUTRIA.

WHERE are the laurels? Where the philtres? Roll
The finest purple wool around the bowl.

Quick! Thestylis, that I with charms may bind
The man I love, but faithless and unkind.
This is the twelfth day he my sight hath fled,
And knows not whether I be quick or dead;
The twelfth day since he crossed my threshold o'er
Nor, cruel! once hath knocked upon my door,
In all that time. His fancy, apt to change,
Cypris and Love have elsewhere made to range.

I'll

go-to see and chide him for my sorrowTo Timagetus' wrestling-school to-morrow, Now will I charm him with the magic rite. Come, forth, thou Moon! with thy propitious light;