Eclogue 10: Gallus Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHBIJKLMNOPQRN SGTUVCWWTVSXSNSSYNZN SA2SVB2C2OND2E2GD2F2 NG2NNSH2GI2SSSBJ2LVV NSNK2L2ENM2NN2D2HNVG NZ NSGO2P2A2D2SN2VV

This now the very latest of my toilsA
Vouchsafe me Arethusa needs must IB
Sing a brief song to Gallus brief but yetC
Such as Lycoris' self may fitly readD
Who would not sing for Gallus So when thouE
Beneath Sicanian billows glidest onF
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thineG
Begin The love of Gallus be our themeH
And the shrewd pangs he suffered while hard byB
The flat nosed she goats browse the tender brushI
We sing not to deaf ears no word of oursJ
But the woods echo it What groves or lawnsK
Held you ye Dryad maidens when for loveL
Love all unworthy of a loss so dearM
Gallus lay dying for neither did the slopesN
Of Pindus or Parnassus stay you thenO
No nor Aonian Aganippe HimP
Even the laurels and the tamarisks weptQ
For him outstretched beneath a lonely rockR
Wept pine clad Maenalus and the flinty cragsN
Of cold Lycaeus The sheep too stood aroundS
Of us they feel no shame poet divineG
Nor of the flock be thou ashamed even fairT
Adonis by the rivers fed his sheepU
Came shepherd too and swine herd footing slowV
And from the winter acorns dripping wetC
Menalcas All with one accord exclaimW
'From whence this love of thine ' Apollo cameW
'Gallus art mad ' he cried 'thy bosom's careT
Another love is following 'TherewithalV
Silvanus came with rural honours crownedS
The flowering fennels and tall lilies shookX
Before him Yea and our own eyes beheldS
Pan god of Arcady with blood red juiceN
Of the elder berry and with vermilion dyedS
'Wilt ever make an end ' quoth he 'beholdS
Love recks not aught of it his heart no moreY
With tears is sated than with streams the grassN
Bees with the cytisus or goats with leaves 'Z
'Yet will ye sing Arcadians of my woesN
Upon your mountains ' sadly he repliedS
'Arcadians that alone have skill to singA2
O then how softly would my ashes restS
If of my love one day your flutes should tellV
And would that I of your own fellowshipB2
Or dresser of the ripening grape had beenC2
Or guardian of the flock for surely thenO
Let Phyllis or Amyntas or who elseN
Bewitch me what if swart Amyntas beD2
Dark is the violet dark the hyacinthE2
Among the willows 'neath the limber vineG
Reclining would my love have lain with meD2
Phyllis plucked garlands or Amyntas sungF2
Here are cool springs soft mead and grove LycorisN
Here might our lives with time have worn awayG2
But me mad love of the stern war god holdsN
Armed amid weapons and opposing foesN
Whilst thou Ah might I but believe it notS
Alone without me and from home afarH2
Look'st upon Alpine snows and frozen RhineG
Ah may the frost not hurt thee may the sharpI2
And jagged ice not wound thy tender feetS
I will depart re tune the songs I framedS
In verse Chalcidian to the oaten reedS
Of the Sicilian swain Resolved am IB
In the woods rather with wild beasts to couchJ2
And bear my doom and character my loveL
Upon the tender tree trunks they will growV
And you my love grow with them And meanwhileV
I with the Nymphs will haunt Mount MaenalusN
Or hunt the keen wild boar No frost so coldS
But I will hem with hounds thy forest gladesN
Parthenius Even now methinks I rangeK2
O'er rocks through echoing groves and joy to launchL2
Cydonian arrows from a Parthian bowE
As if my madness could find healing thusN
Or that god soften at a mortal's griefM2
Now neither Hamadryads no nor songsN
Delight me more ye woods away with youN2
No pangs of ours can change him not though weD2
In the mid frost should drink of Hebrus' streamH
And in wet winters face Sithonian snowsN
Or when the bark of the tall elm tree boleV
Of drought is dying should under Cancer's SignG
In Aethiopian deserts drive our flocksN
Love conquers all things yield we too to love 'Z
-
These songs Pierian Maids shall it sufficeN
Your poet to have sung the while he satS
And of slim mallow wove a basket fineG
To Gallus ye will magnify their worthO2
Gallus for whom my love grows hour by hourP2
As the green alder shoots in early SpringA2
Come let us rise the shade is wont to beD2
Baneful to singers baneful is the shadeS
Cast by the juniper crops sicken tooN2
In shade Now homeward having fed your fillV
Eve's star is rising go my she goats goV

Publius Vergilius Maro



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