The Odes and Epodon of Horace, In Five Books :: :: University of Virginia Library

That man is Blest, who far from City cares,
Like those o'th' ancient Age of Gold,
His Father's grounds Ploughs with his Oxen pairs;
Free'd from all Use for Debts inroll'd
Nor Souldier rouz'd with dreadful Trumpets noise,
Nor Sea-man scar'd with angry Wave;
Shunning Law courts, and Thresholds proud, the Voice
Support of powerful Rich to crave.
Does therefore Poplars tall to th' well grown Vine
In Marriage link, for friendly Breed,
And Lops those barren Sprouts which idly twine,
That happier Off-spring may succeed:
Or else retir'd to gloomy Vale, from far
His lowing wandring Heard beholds.
Sweet Honey's wealth lays up in purest Jar;
Or barbs his weakly Sheep from Folds:
But Autumn shewing her crown'd Head, that wears
Mild Apples, various fruitful Dress,

101

How joyeth he? strait crops his planted Pears:
Then Grape, which Purple challenges.
What should he give thee PRIAPUS? what thee,
SILVANUS? Guardian-Gods for all.
Sometimes he likes th' old Elderus Canopy,
Then couch'd on weaved Grass to fall;
Whilst chanting Birds from Shades his ear rejoyce;
And Brooks from lofty Banks, with those
Small streaming Founts, yield gentle Murmurs noise,
Sweet Lullabies for soft Repose:
But Winter when arriv'd, when thundring JOVE
Commandeth Show'rs, with Snows and Frost,
Keen-tusked Boars, with Dogs, he drives to Rove,
Till in confronting Toyls be tost:
Or smaller Nets on slender props he tyes,
Deceit to catch the greedy Thrush;
The wandring Crane's his Gin's triumphant Prize,
And fearful Hare from sculking Bush.
Who not 'mongst these forgets those pining Cares,
Mischiefs, tormenting Racks of Love?
But if some honest Dame to th' House-affairs
(Sweet Children's help) conjoyned prove,
Such as the Sabine-Wife, or Sun-burnt Spouse
Of sturdy-back'd Apulian,
They build with Wood th' Hearths Consecrated brows,
When coming home her tir'd Good-man:
The joyful Beasts shut up in hurdle Stalls,
For Milk their swelling Uddern's dry'd;
And this year's Wine from cleanly Cask that falls,
With home-bred Food to th' Board apply'd.
Not me should more those Lucrine Cockles brave,
Nor Turbot, Guilt-heads choice, delight
(If thundring Winter on the Eastern Wave
Should some to th' Western Seas affright)
Nor th' Africk Fowl descend into my Panch
More pleas'd, th' Ionick Quail (not these)
Then Olive choice, cull'd from the fattest Branch
Of prime selected Olive Trees;
Or Mallows good for Folks infirm, or that
Field-loving herb, green Sorrel call'd:
Or Lamb which on Feast Terminal does wait;
Snatch'd Kid from Wolvish jaws, enthrall'd.
'Midst this Repast how pleasant glance to view
The well-fed Sheep returning home:

102

Behold, when Plough-shares turn'd, those Oxen crew
With heavy drawing Necks to come:
Slaves plac'd; the Rich man's toyling Bees, as 'twere:
While shining round fresh Houshold-Gods.
This when had spoke ALPHIUS the Usurer;
As bent for Rustick life by odds,
He call'd in all his Gold this Month with pain,
Though seeks next Month to lend it forth again.