But I to please you will indulge your ear,
And tell my favourite season of the year.
Not summer-then I feel the scorching sun;
Nor autumn-then their course diseases run;
And hard I find to bear the winter frore,
The chilling snow I fear, and crystal hoar.
Of all the year the spring delights me most,
Free from the scorching sun, and bitter frost.
All life-containing shapes conceive in spring,
And all sweet things are sweetly blossoming;
And in that season of the year's delight
There is for men an equal day and night.

IDYL VII.

ACHILLES AND DEIDAMIA.

MYRSON.

WILL you, my Lycidas, now sing for me
A soothing sweet Sicilian melody –

A love-song, such as once the Cyclops young
On the sea-shore to Galatea sung?

LYCIDAS.

I'll pipe or sing for you: what shall it be?

MYRSON.

The song of Scyros dearly pleases me,
Sweet love-the pleasant life Pelides led -

His furtive kisses, and the furtive bed.

How he, a boy, put on a virgin's dress,

Assumed a virgin's mien, and seemed no less ;

BB

And how Deïdamia, maiden coy,

Found her girl bedmate was a wicked boy.

LYCIDAS.

The herdsman, Paris, on an evil day,
To Ida bore the lovely Helena.

Enone grieved; and Lacedemon raged,
And all th' Achæans in the feud engaged:
Hellenes, Elians, and Mycenians, came,
And brave Laconians, to retake the Dame.
When Greece her battle led across the deep,
Himself at home no warrior then might keep.
Achilles only went not then, indeed,

Hid with the daughters of king Lycomede.
A seeming virgin with a virgin's bloom,
Instead of arms his white hand plied the loom.

No virgin of them all had airs more fine,

A rosier cheek, or step more feminine :

He veiled his hair; but Mars and fiery Love,

That stings young manhood, all his thoughts did move.

He lingered by Deïdamia's side,

Close as he could, from morn till eventide :

Often he kissed her hand, and often raised

Her broidered work: her work and fingers praised.

Of all the maids his only messmate she;

And he would fain his bedmate have her be.

And thus he sued with furtive meaning deep :

"With one another other sisters sleep;

In station, love, and age, we twain are one,

Why should we, maidens both, each sleep alone? Since we together are all day, I wonder

Why we are made at night to sleep asunder?"

IDYL VIII.

TO THE EVENING STAR.

HESPER! Sweet Aphrodite's golden light!
Hesper bright ornament of swarthy Night,
Inferior to the Moon's clear sheen as far,
As thou outshinest every other star;
Dear Hesper, hail! and give thy light to me,
Leading the festive shepherd company.

For her new course to-day began the moon,
And is already set-O much too soon!

'Tis not for impious theft abroad I stir,
Nor to way-lay the nightly traveller:

I love; and thou, bright star of love! shouldst lend The lover light-his helper and his friend.