IDYL IV. THE POWER OF LOVE. THE Muses fear not, but with heart-love true, Affect wild Eros, and his steps pursue. And if one sings, with cold and loveless heart, To him in flowing stream they hasten all. IDYL V. LIFE TO BE ENJOYED. IF sweet my songs, or these sufficient be If Saturn's son, and changeful Fate, assigned That one in joys and one in woes be past, Who had his woes first would have joys at last. But since Heaven wills one life to man should fall, And this is very brief-too brief for all We think to do, why should we fret and moil, How brief the life allotted us by Fate! IDYL VI. CLEODAMUS AND MYRSON. CLEODAMUS. WHAT Sweet for you has Summer or the Spring, What joy does Autumn or the Winter bring? Which season do you hail with most delight? Summer whose fulness doth our toils requite? Or the sweet Autumn when but slight distress From hunger falls on mortal wretchedness? Or lazy Winter-since but few are loath To cheer themselves with fire-side ease and sloth? Or the Spring blushing with its bloom of flowers? Tell me your choice, since leisure-time is ours. MYRSON. For man to judge things heavenly is unmeet, Not Summer-then I feel the scorching sun; IDYL VII. ACHILLES AND DEÏDAMIA. MYRSON. WILL you, my Lycidas, now sing for me A love-song, such as once the Cyclops young LYCIDAS. I'll pipe or sing for you. What shall it be? MYRSON. The song of Scyros dearly pleases me, His furtive kisses, and the furtive bed. How he, a boy, put on a virgin's dress, Assumed a virgin's mien, and seemed no less; And how Deïdamia, maiden coy, Found her girl bedmate was a wicked boy. |