MENALCAS.
Who hates not foolish Bavius, let him love
Thee, Mævius, and thy tasteless rhymes approve!
Nor needs it thy admirer's reason shock
To milk the he-goats, and the foxes yoke.
DAMŒTAS.
Ye boys, on garlands who employ your care,
And pull the creeping strawberries, beware,
Fly for your lives, and leave that fatal place,
A deadly snake lies lurking in the grass.
MENALCAS.
Forbear, my flocks, and warily proceed,
Nor on that faithless bank securely tread;
The heedless ram late plung'd amid the pool,
And in the sun now dries his reeking wool.
DAMŒTAS.
Ho, Tityrus! lead back the browsing flock,
And let them feed at distance from the brook;
At bathing-time I to the shade will bring
My goats, and wash them in the cooling spring.
MENALCAS.
Haste, from the sultry lawn the flocks remove
To the cool shelter of the shady grove;
When burning noon the curdling udder dries,
Th' ungrateful teats in vain the shepherd plies.