TITYRUS.

This peace to a propitious god I owe;
None else, my friend, such blessings could bestow.
Him will I celebrate with rites divine,

And frequent lambs shall stain his sacred shrine.
By him, these feeding herds in safety stray;
By him, in peace I pipe the rural lay.

MELIBUS.

I envy not, but wonder at your fate,
That no alarms invade this blest retreat;
While neighbouring fields the voice of woe resound.
And desolation rages all around.

Worn with fatigue I slowly onward bend,
And scarce my feeble fainting goats attend.

ticularly elms. Beyond all these appear marshy grounds and rocky hills. The ragged and drooping flock of the unfortunate shepherd, particularly the she-goat which he leads along, are no inconsiderable figures in this picture.-The time is the evening of a summer day, a little before sunset. See the Original, v. 1, 5, 9, 52, 54, 57, 59, 81, &c.

This pastoral is said to have been written on the following occasion. Augustus, in order to reward the services of his veterans, by means of whom he had established himself in the Roman empire, distributed among them the lands that lay contiguous to Mantua and Cremona. To make way for these intruders, the rightful owners, of whom Virgil was one, were turned out. But our poet, by the intercession of Mecænas, was reinstated in his possessions. Melibaus here personates one of the unhappy exiles, and Virgil is represented under the character of Tityrus.

My hand this sickly dam can hardly bear,
Whose young new-yean'd (ah once an hopeful
Amid the tangling hazels as they lay,

[pair!)

On the sharp flint were left to pine away.
These ills I had foreseen, but that my mind
To all portents and prodigies was blind.
Oft have the blasted oaks foretold my woe;
And often has the inauspicious crow,
Perch'd on the wither'd holm, with fateful cries,
Scream'd in my ear her dismal prophecies.
But say, O Tityrus, what god bestows
This blissful life of undisturb'd repose?

TITYRUS.

Imperial Rome, while yet to me unknown,
I vainly liken'd to our country-town,
Our little Mantua, at which is sold
The yearly offspring of our fruitful fold.
As in the whelp the father's shape appears,
And as the kid its mother's semblance bears,
Thus greater things my inexperienc'd mind
Rated by others of inferior kind.

But she, midst other cities, rears her head
High as the cypress overtops the reed.

MELIBUS.

And why to visit Rome was you inclin'd?

TITYRUS.

"Twas there I hoped my liberty to find.

And there my liberty I found at last,

Though long with listless indolence opprest;
Yet not till Time had silver'd o'er my hairs,
And I had told a tedious length of years;
Nor till the gentle Amaryllis charm'd,2
And Galatea's love no longer warm'd.
For (to my friend I will confess the whole)
While Galatea captive held my soul,
Languid and lifeless all I dragg'd the chain,
Neglected liberty, neglected gain.
Though from my fold the frequent victim bled,
Though my fat cheese th' ungrateful city fed,
For this I ne'er perceiv'd my wealth increase:
I lavish'd all, her haughty heart to please.

MELIBUS.

Why Amaryllis pin'd, and pass'd away In lonely shades the melancholy day; Why to the gods she breath'd incessant vows; For whom her mellow apples press'd the boughs So late, I wonder'd-Tityrus was gone, And she (ah luckless maid!) was left alone. Your absence every warbling fountain mourn'd, And woods and wilds the wailing strains return'd.

TITYRUS.

What could I do? to break th' enslaving chain All other efforts had (alas!) been vain;

2 The refinements of Taubmannus, De La Cerda, and others, who will have Amaryllis to signify Rome, and Galatea to signify Mantua, have perplexed this passage not a little: if the literal meaning be admitted, the whole becomes obvious and natural.

Nor durst my hopes presume, but there, to find The gods so condescending and so kind. 'Twas there these eyes the heaven-born youth

To whom our altars monthly incense yield: My suit he even prevented, while he spoke, "Manure your ancient farm, and feed your former flock."

MELIBEUS.

Happy old man! then shall your lands remain: Extent sufficient for th' industrious swain, Though bleak and bare yon ridgy rocks arise, And lost in lakes the neighbouring pasture lies. Your herds on wonted grounds shall safely range, And never feel the dire effects of change. No foreign flock shall spread infecting bane To hurt your pregnant dams, thrice happy swain! You by known streams and sacred fountains laid Shall taste the coolness of the fragrant shade. Beneath yon fence, where willow-boughs unite, And to their flowers the swarming bees invite, Oft shall the lulling hum persuade to rest, And balmy slumbers steal into your breast; While warbled from this rock the pruner's lay In deep repose dissolves your soul away; High on yon elm the turtle wails alone,

And your lov'd ringdoves breathe a hoarser moan

8 Augustus Cæsar.

TITYRUS.

The nimble harts shall graze in empty air, And seas retreating leave their fishes bare, The German dwell where rapid Tigris flows, The Parthian, banish'd by invading foes, Shall drink the Gallic Arar, from my breast Ere his majestic image be effac'd.

MELIBUS.

But we must travel o'er a length of lands, O'er Scythian snows, or Afric's burning sands; Some wander where remote Oaxes laves The Cretan meadows with his rapid waves; In Britain some, from every comfort torn, From all the world remov'd, are doom'd to mourn. When long long years have tedious roll'd away, Ah! shall I yet at last, at last, survey My dear paternal lands, and dear abode, Where once I reign'd in walls of humble sod! These lands, these harvests must the soldier share! For rude barbarians lavish we our care! How are our fields become the spoil of wars! How are we ruin'd by intestine jars! Now, Melibus, now ingraff the pear, Now teach the vine its tender sprays to rear !— Go, then, my goats!-go, once an happy store! Once happy!-happy now (alas!) no more! No more shall I, beneath the bowery shade In rural quiet indolently laid,