Then out they called:  the goatherd marked them, and up came he;
    Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would be. 
    To shrill Menalcas’ lot it fell to start the woodland lay: 
    Then Daphnis took it up.  And thus Menalcas led the way.

    MENALCAS. 
    “Rivers and vales, a glorious birth!  Oh if Menalcas e’er
      Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears: 
    Then pasture, nothing loth, his lambs; and let young Daphnis fare
      No worse, should he stray hither with his steers.”

    DAPHNIS. 
    “Pastures and rills, a bounteous race!  If Daphnis sang you e’er
      Such songs as ne’er from nightingale have flowed;
    Then to his herd your fatness lend; and let Menalcas share
      Like boon, should e’er he wend along this road.”

    MENALCAS. 
    “’Tis spring, ’tis greenness everywhere; with milk the udders teem,
      And all things that are young have life anew,
    Where my sweet maiden wanders:  but parched and withered seem,
      When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too.”

    DAPHNIS. 
    “Fat are the sheep, the goats bear twins, the hives are thronged with
        bees,
      Rises the oak beyond his natural growth,
    Where falls my darling’s footstep:  but hungriness shall seize,
      When she departeth, herd and herdsman both.”

    MENALCAS. 
    “Come, ram, with thy blunt-muzzled kids and sleek wives at thy side,
      Where winds the brook by woodlands myriad-deep: 
    There is her haunt.  Go, Stump-horn, tell her how Proteus plied
      (A god) the shepherd’s trade, with seals for sheep.”

    DAPHNIS. 
    “I ask not gold, I ask not the broad lands of a king;
      I ask not to be fleeter than the breeze;
    But ’neath this steep to watch my sheep, feeding as one, and fling
      (Still clasping her) my carol o’er the seas.”

    MENALCAS. 
    “Storms are the fruit-tree’s bane; the brook’s, a summer hot and dry;
      The stag’s a woven net, a gin the dove’s;
    Mankind’s, a soft sweet maiden.  Others have pined ere I: 
      Zeus!  Father! hadst not thou thy lady-loves?”

    Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes rehearst: 
    Then each one gave a closing stave.  Thus sang Menalcas first:—­

    MENALCAS. 
    “O spare, good wolf, my weanlings! their milky mothers spare! 
    Harm not the little lad that hath so many in his care! 
    What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep?  It ill befits a hound,
    Tending a boyish master’s flock, to slumber over-sound. 
    And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your fill: 
    So, when it comes, the after-math shall find you feeding still. 
    So! so! graze on, that ye be full, that not an udder fail: 
    Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill my pail.” 
      Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a nightingale:—­