“Get thee to Ida, get thee to Anchises! There are oak trees—here only galingale blows, here sweetly hum the bees about the hives!
Begin, ye Muses dear, begin the pastoral song!
“Thine Adonis, too, is in his bloom, for he heards the sheep and slays the hares, and he chases all the wild beasts. Nay, go and confront Diomedes again, and say, ‘The herdsman Daphnis I conquered, do thou join battle with me.’”
Begin, ye Muses dear, begin the pastoral song!
“Ye wolves, ye jackals, and ye bears in the mountain caves, farewell! The herdsman Daphnis ye never shall see again, no more in the dells, no more in the groves, no more in the woodlands. Farewell Arethusa, ye rivers good-night, that pour down Thymbris your beautiful waters.
Begin, ye Muses dear, begin the pastoral song!
“That Daphnis am I who here do herd the kine, Daphnis who water here the bulls and calves.
“O Pan, Pan! whether thou art on the high hills of Lycæus, or rangest mighty Mænalus, haste hither to the Sicilian isle! Leave the tomb of Helice, leave that high cairn of the son of Lycæon, which seems wondrous fair, even in the eyes of the blessed.
Give o’er, ye Muses, come, give o’er the pastoral song!
“Come hither, my prince, and take this fair pipe, honey-breathed with wax-stopped joints; and well it fits thy lip; for verily I, even I, by Love am now haled to Hades.