I gave for answer not so much as one disdainful word,
But, looking ever on the ground, paced onward with my herd.
For sweet the heifer’s music, and sweet the heifer’s breath;
Sweet things to me the youngling calf, sweet things her mother saith;
And sweet is sleep by summer brooks upon the breezy lea:
And acorns they grace well the oak, apples the apple-tree,
Her calves the cow; the herdsman, but for his herd cares he.
So sang the lads; and thereupon out spake the referee:—
Goatherd.
O Daphnis! lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung;