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Browsing named entities in P. Vergilius Maro, Eclogues (ed. J. B. Greenough).

Found 60 total hits in 18 results.

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Great Britain (United Kingdom) (search for this): poem 1
ir cooings hoarse the wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight, nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top. TITYRUS Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air, the seas their fish leave naked on the strand, germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds, and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink, than from my heart his face and memory fade. MELIBOEUS But we far hence, to burning Libya some, some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood, cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way, or Britain, from the whole world sundered far. Ah! shall I ever in aftertime behold my native bounds—see many a harvest hence with ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cot where I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair, some brutal soldier will possess these fields an alien master. Ah! to what a pass has civil discord brought our hapless folk! For such as these, then, were our furrows sown! Now, Meliboeus, graft your pears, now set your vines in order! Go, once happy flock, my she-goats, go. Never ag
Rome (Italy) (search for this): poem 1
flock—an ill, I mind me well, which many a time, but for my blinded sense, the thunder-stricken oak foretold, oft too from hollow trunk the raven's ominous cry. But who this god of yours? Come, Tityrus, tell. TITYRUS The city, Meliboeus, they call Rome, I, simpleton, deemed like this town of ours, whereto we shepherds oft are wont to drive the younglings of the flock: so too I knew whelps to resemble dogs, and kids their dams, comparing small with great; but this as far above all other cities rears her head as cypress above pliant osier towers. MELIBOEUS And what so potent cause took you to Rome? TITYRUS Freedom, which, though belated, cast at length her eyes upon the sluggard, when my beard 'gan whiter fall beneath the barber's blade— cast eyes, I say, and, though long tarrying, came, now when, from Galatea's yoke released, I serve but Amaryllis: for I will own, while Galatea reigned over me, I had no hope of freedom, and no thought to save. Though many a victim from my folds went for
Libya (Libya) (search for this): poem 1
tle murmur lull to sleep, while the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse the wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight, nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top. TITYRUS Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air, the seas their fish leave naked on the strand, germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds, and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink, than from my heart his face and memory fade. MELIBOEUS But we far hence, to burning Libya some, some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood, cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way, or Britain, from the whole world sundered far. Ah! shall I ever in aftertime behold my native bounds—see many a harvest hence with ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cot where I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair, some brutal soldier will possess these fields an alien master. Ah! to what a pass has civil discord brought our hapless folk! For such as these, then, were our furrows sown! Now, Mel
Arar (Saudi Arabia) (search for this): poem 1
ere, as of old, your neighbour's bordering hedge, that feasts with willow-flower the Hybla bees, shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep, while the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse the wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight, nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top. TITYRUS Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air, the seas their fish leave naked on the strand, germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds, and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink, than from my heart his face and memory fade. MELIBOEUS But we far hence, to burning Libya some, some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood, cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way, or Britain, from the whole world sundered far. Ah! shall I ever in aftertime behold my native bounds—see many a harvest hence with ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cot where I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair, some brutal soldier will possess these fields an alien master. Ah! t
our neighbour's bordering hedge, that feasts with willow-flower the Hybla bees, shall oft with gentle murmur lull to sleep, while the leaf-dresser beneath some tall rock uplifts his song, nor cease their cooings hoarse the wood-pigeons that are your heart's delight, nor doves their moaning in the elm-tree top. TITYRUS Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air, the seas their fish leave naked on the strand, germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds, and these the Arar, those the Tigris drink, than from my heart his face and memory fade. MELIBOEUS But we far hence, to burning Libya some, some to the Scythian steppes, or thy swift flood, cretan Oaxes, now must wend our way, or Britain, from the whole world sundered far. Ah! shall I ever in aftertime behold my native bounds—see many a harvest hence with ravished eyes the lowly turf-roofed cot where I was king? These fallows, trimmed so fair, some brutal soldier will possess these fields an alien master. Ah! to what a pass has
mphs will haunt Mount Maenalus, or hunt the keen wild boar. No frost so cold but I will hem with hounds thy forest-glades, parthenius. Even now, methinks, I range o'er rocks, through echoing groves, and joy to launch Cydonian arrows from a Parthian bow.— as if my madness could find healing thus, or that god soften at a mortal's grief! Now neither Hamadryads, no, nor songs delight me more: ye woods, away with you! No pangs of ours can change him; not though we in the mid-frost should drink of Hebrus' stream, and in wet winters face Sithonian snows, or, when the bark of the tall elm-tree bole of drought is dying, should, under Cancer's Sign, in Aethiopian deserts drive our flocks. Love conquers all things; yield we too to love!” These songs, Pierian Maids, shall it suffice your poet to have sung, the while he sat, and of slim mallow wove a basket fine: to Gallus ye will magnify their worth, Gallus, for whom my love grows hour by hour, as the green alder shoots in early Spring. Come, let
Parnassus (Greece) (search for this): poem 10
read. Who would not sing for Gallus? So, when thou beneath Sicanian billows glidest on, may Doris blend no bitter wave with thine, begin! The love of Gallus be our theme, and the shrewd pangs he suffered, while, hard by, the flat-nosed she-goats browse the tender brush. We sing not to deaf ears; no word of ours but the woods echo it. What groves or lawns held you, ye Dryad-maidens, when for love— love all unworthy of a loss so dear— Gallus lay dying? for neither did the slopes of Pindus or Parnassus stay you then, no, nor Aonian Aganippe. Him even the laurels and the tamarisks wept; for him, outstretched beneath a lonely rock, wept pine-clad Maenalus, and the flinty crags of cold Lycaeus. The sheep too stood around— of us they feel no shame, poet divine; nor of the flock be thou ashamed: even fair Adonis by the rivers fed his sheep— came shepherd too, and swine-herd footing slow, and, from the winter-acorns dripping-wet Menalcas. All with one accord exclaim: “From whence this love
e—what if swart Amyntas be? Dark is the violet, dark the hyacinth— among the willows, 'neath the limber vine, reclining would my love have lain with me, Phyllis plucked garlands, or Amyntas sung. Here are cool springs, soft mead and grove, Lycoris; here might our lives with time have worn away. But me mad love of the stern war-god holds armed amid weapons and opposing foes. Whilst thou—Ah! might I but believe it not!— alone without me, and from home afar, look'st upon Alpine snows and frozen Rhine. Ah! may the frost not hurt thee, may the sharp and jagged ice not wound thy tender feet! I will depart, re-tune the songs I framed in verse Chalcidian to the oaten reed of the Sicilian swain. Resolved am I in the woods, rather, with wild beasts to couch, and bear my doom, and character my love upon the tender tree-trunks: they will grow, and you, my love, grow with them. And meanwhile I with the Nymphs will haunt Mount Maenalus, or hunt the keen wild boar. No frost so cold but I will hem w
Sicily (Italy) (search for this): poem 4
POLLIO muses of Sicily, essay we now a somewhat loftier task! Not all men love coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods, woods worthy of a Consul let them be. Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung has come and gone, and the majestic roll of circling centuries begins anew: justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign, with a new breed of men sent down from heaven. Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom the iron shall cease, the golden race arise, befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own apollo reigns. And in thy consulate, this glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin, and the months enter on their mighty march. Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain of our old wickedness, once done away, shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear. He shall receive the life of gods, and see heroes with gods commingling, and himself be seen of them, and with his father's worth reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy, first shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth her childish gifts, the gad
Troy (Turkey) (search for this): poem 4
eeds, and inly learn what virtue is, the plain by slow degrees with waving corn-crops shall to golden grow, from the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape, and stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathless yet shall there lurk within of ancient wrong some traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships, gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth. Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be, her hero-freight a second Argo bear; new wars too shall arise, and once again some great Achilles to some Troy be sent. Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man, no more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree bark ply traffic on the sea, but every land shall all things bear alike: the glebe no more shall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook; the sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer, nor wool with varying colours learn to lie; but in the meadows shall the ram himself, now with soft flush of purple, now with tint of yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine. While clothed in natural sca
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