DAMŒTAS.
The wolf is dreadful to the woolly train,
Fatal to harvests is the crushing rain,
To the green woods the winds destructive prove,
To me the rage of mine offended love.
MENALCAS.
The willow's grateful to the pregnant ewes,
Showers to the corns, to kids the mountain-brows;
More grateful far to me my lovely boy,
In sweet Amyntas centres all my joy.
DAMŒTAS.
Even Pollio deigns to hear my rural lays;
And cheers the bashful Muse with generous praise;
Ye sacred Nine, for your great patron feed
A beauteous heifer of the noblest breed.
MENALCAS.
Pollio, the art of heavenly song adorns;
Then let a bull be bred with butting horns,
And ample front, that bellowing spurns the ground,
Tears up the turf, and throws the sands around.
DAMŒTAS.
Him whom my Pollio loves may nought annoy.
May he like Pollio every wish enjoy.
O may his happy lands with honey flow,
And on his thorns Assyrian roses blow!