The Same. (From Vergil's Tenth Eclogue.)

(As revised by Mr. C.D. Locock.)     Melodious Arethusa, o'er my verse     Shed thou once more the spirit of thy stream:     (Two lines missing.)     Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thou     Glidest beneath the green and purple gleam     Of Syracusan waters, mayest thou flow     Unmingled with the bitter Dorian dew!     Begin, and whilst the goats are browsing now     The soft leaves, in our song let us pursue     The melancholy loves of Gallus. List!     We sing not to the deaf: the wild woods knew     His sufferings, and their echoes answer...     Young Naiades, in what far woodlands wild     Wandered ye, when unworthy love possessed     Our Gallus? Nor where Pindus is up-piled,     Nor where Parnassus' sacred mount, nor where     Aonian Aganippe spreads its...     (Three lines missing.)     The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim,     The pine-encircled mountain, Maenalus,     The cold crags of Lycaeus weep for him.     (Several lines missing.)     'What madness is this, Gallus? thy heart's care,     Lycoris, mid rude camps and Alpine snow,     With willing step pursues another there.'     (Some lines missing.)     And Sylvan, crowned with rustic coronals,     Came shaking in his speed the budding wands     And heavy lilies which he bore: we knew     Pan the Arcadian with....     ...and said,     'Wilt thou not ever cease? Love cares not.     The meadows with fresh streams, the bees with thyme,     The goats with the green leaves of budding spring     Are saturated not - nor Love with tears.'