by the peasants of Greece and Italy. Thus in Syracuse and the other
towns of the coast, Theocritus would have always before his eyes the
spectacle of refined and luxurious manners, and always in his ears
the babble of the Dorian women, while he had only to pass the gates,
and wander through the fens of Lysimeleia, by the brackish mere, or
ride into the hills, to find himself in the golden world of pastoral.
Thinking of his early years, and of the education that nature gives
the poet, we can imagine him, like Callicles in Mr. Arnold's poem,
singing at the banquet of a merchant or a general -


'With his head full of wine, and his hair crown'd,
Touching his harp as the whim came on him,
And praised and spoil'd by master and by guests,
Almost as much as the new dancing girl.'


We can recover the world that met his eyes and inspired his poems,
though the dates of the composition of these poems are unknown. We
can follow him, in fancy, as he breaks from the revellers and wanders
out into the night. Wherever he turned his feet, he could find such
scenes as he has painted in the idyls. If the moon rode high in
heaven, as he passed through the outlying gardens he might catch a
glimpse of some deserted girl shredding the magical herbs into the
burning brazier, and sending upward to the 'lady Selene' the song
which was to charm her lover home. The magical image melted in the
burning, the herbs smouldered, the tale of love was told, and slowly
the singer 'drew the quiet night into her blood.' Her lay ended with
a passage of softened melancholy -