"Or Mænalus, with mingling nymphs, I'll tread ;
"Or chase the tusky savage, undismay'd:
"Nor storms shall stay me, as with faithful hound
"Arcadia's forest-depths I girdle round.
"Now over rocks, through groves, I seem to go;
"Now twang my shafts from Parthia's horned bow:
"As if such toils the tyrant could remove,
human art could medicine love!
"Ah! nor by wood-nymphs I, nor woodland strain, "Solaced or sooth'd! Farewell, ye woods, again. "Vainly to tame th' obdurate God we try : "Not should our lip drain wintry Hebrus dry,
"Not though our foot 'mid storms trod Thracia's snows, "Not though we fed our flocks where Cancer glows "On Indian sands, and peels the towering grove- 80 "Love conquers all; and we must yield to love."
Enough, ye Muses, has your bard essay'd,
Weaving his rushy basket in the shade.
These numbers you to Gallus will endear;
Gallus for whom, as year succeeds to year,
My love still grows, as in the vernal prime
The alder's shoots with strong luxuriance climb.
Rise we; the juniper's strong shade annoys
The minstrel choir, the ripening grain destroys:
Goats, from your pastures sated homeward hie-
See, where bright Hesper fires the evening sky.