night: so may love hold him, nor may I care to heal.
Draw from the city, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
This dress he wore of old the traitor left me, dear pledges of himself: which now I even in the doorway, O earth, commit to thee: for these pledges Daphnis is the debt.
Draw from the city, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
These herbs, and these poisons gathered in Pontus, Moeris himself gave me; in Pontus they grow thickest. By their might I have often seen Moeris become a wolf and plunge into the forest, often seen him call up souls from their deep graves, and transplant the harvests to where they were not sown.
Draw from the city, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
Fetch ashes, Amaryllis, out of doors, and fling them across thy head into the running brook: and look not back. With these I will assail Daphnis: nothing cares he for gods, nothing for songs.
Draw from the city, my songs, draw Daphnis home.
See! the embers on the altar have caught with a flickering flame, themselves, of their own accord, while I delay to fetch them. Be it for good! something there is for sure; and Hylax barks in the doorway. May we believe? or do lovers fashion dreams of their own?
