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Appendix Vergiliana

Lydia

Invideo vobis, agri formosaque prata, hoc formosa magis, mea quod formosa puella in vobis tacite nostrum suspirat amorem; vos nunc illa videt, vobis mea Lydia ludit, 5vos nunc alloquitur, vos nunc arridet ocellis, et mea submissa meditatur carmina voce, cantat et interea, mihi quae cantabat in aurem. Invideo vobis, agri, discetis amare. o fortunati nimium multumque beati, 10in quibus illa pedis nivei vestigia ponet aut roseis viridem digitis decerpserit uvam (dulci namque tumet nondum vitecula Baccho) aut inter varios, Veneris stipendia, flores membra reclinarit teneramque illiserit herbam 15et secreta meos furtim narrabit amores. gaudebunt silvae, gaudebunt mollia prata et gelidi fontes, aviumque silentia fient, tardabunt rivi labentes (sistite, lymphae), dum mea iucundas exponat cura querelas. 20Invideo vobis, agri: mea gaudia habetis, et vobis nunc est mihi quae fuit ante voluptas. at male tabescunt morientia membra dolore,

  • 3in vobis Heinsius: est vobis Ω
  • 18sistite ς: currite Ω
  • 21mihi Heinsius: mea Ω
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Lydia

Lydia

I envy you, ye fields and lovely meadows, for this more lovely that in you my lovely girl sighs silently for my love. It is you she now sees, in you my Lydia plays, it is you she now addresses, on you she now turns her smiling eyes, hums my songs with voice subdued, and meanwhile sings those strains she used to sing into my ear.

I envy you, ye fields; you will learn to love. O too, too happy fields, yea, often blest, in which she will print the steps of her snowy feet, or with rosy fingers will pluck the green grape (for the little vine swells not yet with nectarous juice), or amid the coloured flowers, tribute to Venus, she will lay down her limbs and crush the tender grass, and all alone will stealthily recount the tale of my love. The woods will rejoice, the soft meadows and cool springs will rejoice, and the birds will keep silent. The gliding brooks will pause (halt, ye waters!) while my heart sets forth its fond complaints.

I envy you, ye fields; you possess what gives me joy, and now you have her, who before was my delight. But my dying limbs are wasting with grief, and warmth fails me,

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DOI: 10.4159/DLCL.appendix_vergiliana_lydia.1918