I saw her, by Pan, I saw her when she was pelting my flock. Nay, she escaped not me, escaped not my one dear eye,—wherewith I shall see to my life’s end,—let Telemus the soothsayer, that prophesies hateful things, hateful things take home, to keep them for his children! But it is all to torment her, that I, in my turn, give not back her glances, pretending that I have another love. To hear this makes her jealous of me, by Paean, and she wastes with pain, and springs madly from the sea, gazing at my caves and at my herds. And I hiss on my dog to bark at her, for when I loved Galatea he would whine with joy, and lay his muzzle on her lap. Perchance when she marks how I use her she will send me many a messenger, but on her envoys I will shut my door till she promises that herself will make a glorious bridal-bed on this island for me. For in truth, I am not so hideous as they say! But lately I was looking into the sea, when all was calm; beautiful seemed my beard, beautiful my one eye—as I count beauty—and the sea reflected the gleam of my teeth whiter than the Parian stone. Then, all to shun the evil eye, did I spit thrice in my breast; for this spell was taught me by the crone, Cottytaris, that piped of yore to the reapers in Hippocoon’s field. Then Damoetas kissed Daphnis, as he ended his song, and he gave Daphnis a pipe, and Daphnis gave him a beautiful flute. Damoetas fluted, and Daphnis piped, the herdsman,—and anon the calves were dancing in the soft green grass. Neither won the victory, but both were invincible. IDYL VII _The poet making his way through the noonday heat_, _with two friends_, _to a harvest feast_, _meets the goatherd_, _Lycidas_. _To humour the poet Lycidas sings a love song of his own_, _and the other replies with verses about the passion of Aratus_, _the famous writer of didactic verse_. _After a courteous parting from Lycidas_, _the poet and his two friends repair to the orchard_, _where Demeter is being gratified with the first-fruits of harvest and vintaging_. _In this idyl_, _Theocritus_, _speaking of himself by the name of Simichidas_, _alludes to his teachers in poetry_, _and_, _perhaps_, _to some of the literary quarrels of the time_. _The scene is in the isle of Cos_. _G. Hermann fancied that the scene was in Lucania_, _and Mr. W. R. Paton thinks he can identify the places named by the aid of inscriptions_ (Classical Review, ii. 8, 265). _See also Rayet_, Mémoire sur l’île de Cos, p. 18, _Paris_, 1876. * * * * * _The Harvest Feast_.