Pouting and muttering proudly looked askaunt,
Before mine eyes did plume her form and flaunt,
And mocking smiled with lips drawn far apart.
My blood boiled fiercely from my grief of heart,
And red my cheeks from passionate anguish grew,
As vernal roses from the morning dew.

She left me then but angry feelings glow
Within my heart, because she used me so.

Am I not handsome, shepherds? tell me truly; Or has some god transformed my person newly? For as lush ivy clips the stem o' the tree,

The bloom of beauty lately covered me.

My curls, like parsley, round my temples clung;
A shining forehead my dark brows o'erhung;
Mine eyes were bluer than Athene's own;
My mouth than new cheese sweeter; every tone
Sweeter than honeycombs: and sweet I take
My song to be; the sweetest sounds I wake
From all wind instruments, in very deed-
Straight pipe or transverse, flute or vocal reed.
The girls upon the hills me handsome call;
They kiss me lovingly-they love me all.

But ah! my city-madam never kist me;
And for I am a cowherd she dismist me.
That Dionysus in the valleys green
Once tended kine, she never heard, I ween;
Nor knows that Cypris on a cowherd doted,
And on the Phrygian hills herself devoted
To tend his herd; nor how the same Dionis
In thickets kist, in thickets wept Adonis.
Who was Endymion ? him tending kine
Stooped down to kiss Selena the divine,
Who from Olympus to the Latmian grove
Glided to slumber with her mortal love.

Didst thou not, Rhea, for a cowherd weep?

And didst thou not, high Zeus! the heaven sweep,

In form of winged bird, and watch indeed

To carry off the cowherd Ganymede ?

Only Eunica (daintier she must be

Than were Selena, Cypris, Cybele,)

Won't kiss a cowherd. May'st thou ne'er uncover
Thyself, self-worshipt Beauty! to a lover

In town or country; but, vain poppet! ever
Sleep by thyself-despite thy best endeavour.

T

IDYL XXI.

THE FISHERMEN.

ARGUMENT.

This Idyl represents the conversation of two fishermen. The poet makes, by way of preface, some observations on poverty. He describes the fishermen's hut. One of them requests the other to interpret a dream for him. He dreamed that he had caught a golden fish, and that he had vowed he would no longer pursue the business of a fisherman. His golden vision has vanished, but he has a superstitious fear of breaking his oath. His companion exhorts him not to think himself bound by an oath, which was no more real than the golden vision that occasioned it. This is the only piscatory eclogue remaining from antiquity.