My right eyelid throbs, is it a sign that I am to see her? Here will
I lean me against this pine tree, and sing, and then perchance she
will regard me, for she is not all of adamant.

Lo, Hippomenes when he was eager to marry the famous maiden, took
apples in his hand, and so accomplished his course; and Atalanta saw,
and madly longed, and leaped into the deep waters of desire.
Melampus too, the soothsayer, brought the herd of oxen from Othrys to
Pylos, and thus in the arms of Bias was laid the lovely mother of
wise Alphesiboea.

And was it not thus that Adonis, as he pastured his sheep upon the
hills, led beautiful Cytherea to such heights of frenzy, that not
even in his death doth she unclasp him from her bosom? Blessed,
methinks is the lot of him that sleeps, and tosses not, nor turns,
even Endymion; and, dearest maiden, blessed I call Iason, whom such
things befell, as ye that be profane shall never come to know.

My head aches, but thou carest not. I will sing no more, but dead
will I lie where I fall, and here may the wolves devour me.

Sweet as honey in the mouth may my death be to thee.



IDYL IV