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Gratis
Virgil

The Georgics

  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk,
    That browse to-day the green Lycaean heights
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    For seven whole months unceasingly, men say,
    Beneath a skyey crag, by thy lone wave,
    Strymon, he wept, and in the caverns chill
    Unrolled his story, melting tigers' hearts,
    And leading with his lay the oaks along
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    But when thou hast gripped him fast with hand and gyve,
    Then divers forms and bestial semblances
    Shall mock thy grasp; for sudden he will change
    To bristly boar, fell tigress, dragon scaled,
    And tawny-tufted lioness, or send forth
    A crackling sound of fire, and so shake of
    The fetters, or in showery drops anon
    Dissolve and vanish. But the more he shifts
    His endless transformations, thou, my son,
    More straitlier clench the clinging bands, until
    His body's shape return to that thou sawest,
    When with closed eyelids first he sank to sleep."
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer,
    Caerulean Proteus, he who metes the main
    With fish-drawn chariot of two-footed steeds;
    Now visits he his native home once more
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    Alone he wandered, lost Eurydice
    Lamenting, and the gifts of Dis ungiven.
    Scorned by which tribute the Ciconian dames,
    Amid their awful Bacchanalian rites
    And midnight revellings, tore him limb from limb,
    And strewed his fragments over the wide fields.
    Then too, even then, what time the Hebrus stream,
    Oeagrian Hebrus, down mid-current rolled,
    Rent from the marble neck, his drifting head,
    The death-chilled tongue found yet a voice to cry
    'Eurydice! ah! poor Eurydice!'
    With parting breath he called her, and the banks
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    To Orpheus sent his funeral dues, and sought
    The grove once more. But sudden, strange to tell
    A portent they espy: through the oxen's flesh,
    Waxed soft in dissolution, hark! there hum
    Bees from the belly; the rent ribs overboil
    In endless clouds they spread them, till at last
    On yon tree-top together fused they cling,
    And drop their cluster from the bending boughs
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    To Orpheus shalt thou send his funeral dues,
    Poppies of Lethe, and let slay a sheep
    Coal-black, then seek the grove again, and soon
    For pardon found adore Eurydice
    With a slain calf for victim."
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    a nightingale
    Mourns her lost young, which some relentless swain,
    Spying, from the nest has torn unfledged, but she
    Wails the long night, and perched upon a spray
    With sad insistence pipes her dolorous strain,
    Till all the region with her wrongs o'erflows
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    Orpheus! what ruin hath thy frenzy wrought
    On me, alas! and thee? Lo! once again
    The unpitying fates recall me, and dark sleep
    Closes my swimming eyes. And now farewell:
    Girt with enormous night I am borne away,
    Outstretching toward thee, thine, alas! no more,
    These helpless hands.' She spake, and suddenly,
    Like smoke dissolving into empty air
  • Laura Littlehar citeretfor 4 år siden
    And now with homeward footstep he had passed
    All perils scathless, and, at length restored,
    Eurydice to realms of upper air
    Had well-nigh won, behind him following-
    So Proserpine had ruled it- when his heart
    A sudden mad desire surprised and seized-
    Meet fault to be forgiven, might Hell forgive
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