Virgil

'Tis not for us to end such great disputes.

Loose me, lads; enough that you have shown your power.

Daphnis, in radiant beauty, marvels at Heaven's unfamiliar threshold, and beneath his feet beholds the clouds and stars.

Sicilian Muses, let us sing a somewhat loftier strain.

She sighed, she sobbed, and furious with despair,

Accused all the gods, and every star.

My serious business gave way to their playing.

Your lay, heavenly bard, is to me even as sleep on the grass to the weary.

Time robs us of all, even of memory.

To sing thy praise, would heaven my breath prolong,

Infusing spirits worthy such a song.

Nothing is wanting here except a song.

Now a new generation descends from heaven on high.

Here are cold springs, Lycoris, here soft meadows, here woodland; here, with thee, time alone would wear me away.