Eclogue X Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A BCDEFGHICJKLMNOPQRSO THUVWDXXUWTYTOTTZO OTA2TWB2C2POD2E2HD2F 2OG2OOTH2HI2TTTCJ2MW WOTOK2L2FOM2ON2D2IOW HO OTHO2P2A2D2TN2WW

GALLUSA
-
This now the very latest of my toilsB
Vouchsafe me Arethusa needs must IC
Sing a brief song to Gallus brief but yetD
Such as Lycoris' self may fitly readE
Who would not sing for Gallus So when thouF
Beneath Sicanian billows glidest onG
May Doris blend no bitter wave with thineH
Begin The love of Gallus be our themeI
And the shrewd pangs he suffered while hard byC
The flat nosed she goats browse the tender brushJ
We sing not to deaf ears no word of oursK
But the woods echo it What groves or lawnsL
Held you ye Dryad maidens when for loveM
Love all unworthy of a loss so dearN
Gallus lay dying for neither did the slopesO
Of Pindus or Parnassus stay you thenP
No nor Aonian Aganippe HimQ
Even the laurels and the tamarisks weptR
For him outstretched beneath a lonely rockS
Wept pine clad Maenalus and the flinty cragsO
Of cold Lycaeus The sheep too stood aroundT
Of us they feel no shame poet divineH
Nor of the flock be thou ashamed even fairU
Adonis by the rivers fed his sheepV
Came shepherd too and swine herd footing slowW
And from the winter acorns dripping wetD
Menalcas All with one accord exclaimX
'From whence this love of thine ' Apollo cameX
'Gallus art mad ' he cried 'thy bosom's careU
Another love is following 'TherewithalW
Silvanus came with rural honours crownedT
The flowering fennels and tall lilies shookY
Before him Yea and our own eyes beheldT
Pan god of Arcady with blood red juiceO
Of the elder berry and with vermilion dyedT
'Wilt ever make an end ' quoth he 'beholdT
Love recks not aught of it his heart no moreZ
With tears is sated than with streams the grassO
Bees with the cytisus or goats with leaves '-
'Yet will ye sing Arcadians of my woesO
Upon your mountains ' sadly he repliedT
'Arcadians that alone have skill to singA2
O then how softly would my ashes restT
If of my love one day your flutes should tellW
And would that I of your own fellowshipB2
Or dresser of the ripening grape had beenC2
Or guardian of the flock for surely thenP
Let Phyllis or Amyntas or who elseO
Bewitch me what if swart Amyntas beD2
Dark is the violet dark the hyacinthE2
Among the willows 'neath the limber vineH
Reclining would my love have lain with meD2
Phyllis plucked garlands or Amyntas sungF2
Here are cool springs soft mead and grove LycorisO
Here might our lives with time have worn awayG2
But me mad love of the stern war god holdsO
Armed amid weapons and opposing foesO
Whilst thou Ah might I but believe it notT
Alone without me and from home afarH2
Look'st upon Alpine snows and frozen RhineH
Ah may the frost not hurt thee may the sharpI2
And jagged ice not wound thy tender feetT
I will depart re tune the songs I framedT
In verse Chalcidian to the oaten reedT
Of the Sicilian swain Resolved am IC
In the woods rather with wild beasts to couchJ2
And bear my doom and character my loveM
Upon the tender tree trunks they will growW
And you my love grow with them And meanwhileW
I with the Nymphs will haunt Mount MaenalusO
Or hunt the keen wild boar No frost so coldT
But I will hem with hounds thy forest gladesO
Parthenius Even now methinks I rangeK2
O'er rocks through echoing groves and joy to launchL2
Cydonian arrows from a Parthian bowF
As if my madness could find healing thusO
Or that god soften at a mortal's griefM2
Now neither Hamadryads no nor songsO
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' streamI
And in wet winters face Sithonian snowsO
Or when the bark of the tall elm tree boleW
Of drought is dying should under Cancer's SignH
In Aethiopian deserts drive our flocksO
Love conquers all things yield we too to love '-
These songs Pierian Maids shall it sufficeO
Your poet to have sung the while he satT
And of slim mallow wove a basket fineH
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 shadeT
Cast by the juniper crops sicken tooN2
In shade Now homeward having fed your fillW
Eve's star is rising go my she goats goW

Virgil



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