Thrushes clear piping, wood-pigeons cooing, arousing

Loudly the nightingale, loudly the sylvan echoes;

Waters transpicuous flowed under, flowed to the list’ning

Ear with a soft murmur, softly soporiferous;

Nor, with ebon locks too, there wanted, circling, attentive

Unto the sweet fluting, girls, of a swarthy shepherd;

Over a sunny level their flocks are lazily feeding,

They of Amor musing rest in a leafy cavern.

1861

ALCAICS.