Theocritus, Bion and Moschus, Rendered Into English Prose

Front Cover
Macmillan, 1880 - Country life - 200 pages

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page xviii - The track winds down to the clear stream To cross the sparkling shallows; there The cattle love to gather, on their way To the high...
Page 192 - Poison came, Bion, to thy mouth, thou didst know poison. To such lips as thine did it come, and was not sweetened ? What mortal was so cruel that could mix poison for thee, or who could give thee the venom that heard thy voice ? surely he had no music in his soul.
Page 100 - Beneath their heads was a scanty matting, their clothes, their sailor's caps. Here was all their toil, here all their wealth. The threshold had never a door, nor a watch-dog; all things, all, to them seemed superfluity, for Poverty was their sentinel. They had no neighbour by them, but ever against their narrow cabin gently floated up the sea.
Page 73 - Gorgo. Oh, what a thing spirit is ! I have scarcely got to you alive, Praxinoe! What a huge crowd, what hosts of four-in-hands ! Everywhere cavalry boots, everywhere men in uniform ! And the road is endless: yes, you really live too far away ! Praxinoe.
Page 186 - Europa, riding on the back of the divine bull, with one hand clasped the beast's great horn, and with the other caught up the purple fold of her garment, lest it might trail and be wet in the hoar sea's infinite spray. And her deep robe was swelled out by the winds, like the sail of a ship, and lightly still did waft the maiden onward.
Page 164 - She hath lost her lovely lord, with him she hath lost her sacred beauty. Fair was the form of Cypris, while Adonis was living, but her beauty has died with Adonis ! Woe, woe for Cypris, the mountains all are saying, and the oak-trees answer, Woe for Adonis.
Page 12 - Bethink thee of my love, and whence it came, my Lady Moon ! Even as I looked I loved, loved madly, and all my heart was wounded, woe is me! and my beauty began to wane. No more heed took I of that show, and how I came home I know not; but some parching fever utterly overthrew me, and I lay abed ten days and ten nights.
Page xviii - End here; Etna beyond, in the broad glare Of the hot noon, without a shade, Slope behind slope, up to the peak, lies bare; The peak, round which the white clouds play.
Page 72 - This famous idyl should rather, perhaps, be called a mimus. // describes the visit paid by two Syracusan women residing in Alexandria, to the festival of the resurrection of Adonis. The festival is given by Arsinoe, wife and sister of Ptolemy Philadelphus, and the poem cannot have been written earlier than his marriage, in 266 BC [ ? ] Nothing can be more gay and natural than the chatter of the women, which has changed no more in two thousand years than the song of birds.
Page 40 - And he shall sing how, once upon a time, the great chest prisoned the living goatherd, by his lord's infatuate and evil will, and how the blunt-faced bees, as they came up from the meadow to the fragrant cedar chest, fed him with food of tender flowers, because the Muse still dropped sweet nectar on his lips.

Bibliographic information