Daphnis the piper, trembling 'neath the load
Of years, this crook, his feeble hand no more
Had force to wield, to Pan, the shepherd's god,
Here offers up; his shepherd labours o'er.
His pipe he still can sweetly sound; and still
Strong his voice, although his body's weak;
But look ye, swains, yon wolves upon the hill
Ne'er of my feebleness o'erhear ye speak.
