Salicio

Fold now the flock, for from the mountain's head Cool airs descend, and longer shadows spread. Look round, and see how from the farms whereto Those labourers trudge, the calm smoke, rising blue, Curls in a column to the rosy sky! Seek with our flocks the usual vale, whilst I Attend the youth—since he has lain so long In quiet swoon, his fit cannot be strong.