Eclogue

 1    I|    ditties: I from my sweet fields,~And home’s familiar bounds,
 2    I|    age, you happy man, your fields~Will still be yours, and
 3    I|  soldier will possess these fields~An alien master. Ah! to
 4    1| Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home,~Shoot down the
 5  III|    off~The sluices, for the fields have drunk their fill.~
 6    V|    to the herd, to fruitful fields the corn,~So the one glory
 7    V|     Wherefore the woods and fields, Pan, shepherd-folk,~And
 8    V| when with lustral rites~The fields we hallow. Long as the wild
 9   VI|   too of Proetus filled the fields~With their feigned lowings,
10 VIII|   tomb’s recess,~And to new fields transport the standing corn.~“
11   IX|    former husbandmen!~These fields are mine.” Now, cowed and
12   IX|  heaven, to gladden all the fields with corn,~And to the grape