THEOCRITUS I, 136–152
“And the sweet nightingale be outsung i’ the dale by the scritch—owl from the hill."
Country-song, leave county-song, ye Muses.
Such words spake he, and he stayed him still; and O, the Love-Ladye,
She would fain have raised him where he lay, but that could never be.
For the thread was spun and the days were done and Daphnis gone to the River,[1]
And the Nymphs’ good friend and the Muses’ fere was whelmed i’ the whirl for ever.
Country-song, leave county-song, ye Muses.
There; give me the goat and the tankard, man; and the Muses shall have a libation of her milk. Fare you well, ye Muses, and again fare you well, and I ’ll e’en sing you a sweeter song another day.
GOATHERD
Be your fair mouth filled with honey and the honeycomb, good Thyrsis; be your eating of the sweet figs of Aegilus; for sure your singing’s as delightful as the cricket’s chirping in spring. Here’s the cup (taking it from his wallet). Pray mark how good it smells; you’ll be thinking it hath been washed at the well o’ the Seasons. Hither, Browning; and milk her, you. A truce to your skipping, ye kids yonder, or the buckgoat will be after you.
- ↑ “The River”: Acheron, the river of Death.
