The Works of Virgil :: :: University of Virginia Library

What makes the Fields rejoice; beneath what Stars
To turn the Glebe; and Vines adjoin to Elms,
Mæcenas; what the Care of lowing Herds;
The Culture apt for Cattle; and how great

Th'Experience of the parsimonious Bee;
I here attempt to sing. Ye brightest Lamps
Of Heav'n, who with your Influence cheer the World,
And thro' the Sky roll round the sliding Year;
Liber, and foodful Ceres: If the Earth
By your Indulgence chang'd Chaönian Mast
For Corn, and from the new-discover'd Grape
With Achelöian Bev'rage mingled Wine;
And You, propitious Rural Deitys,
Ye Fauns, and Silvan Nymphs assist my Verse:
Your Gifts I sing. And Thou, at whose Command
The Parent Earth a sprightly Steed disclos'd,
Struck with thy awful Trident, Neptune, hear;

Thou too, for whom in fertil Cæa's Woods,
Three hundred snow-white Steers the Bushes browze;
Thyself, Protector of the fleecy Flocks,
(If aught thy Mænalus employ thy Care)
Tegeæan Pan, be present to my Song,
And leave a-while thy own Lycæus' Groves.
Thou too, Producer of the Olive-Plant,
Minerva; with the Youth who shew'd Mankind
The first Invention of the crooked Plough;
And Thou, Sylvanus, bearing in thy Hand
A sapling Cypress from its Roots up-torn.
And all ye Gods, and Goddesses, who tend
The Fields, and studious o'er their Fruits preside;
You, who perpetuate them with Seed; and You,
Who with large Show'rs refresh That Seed from Heav'n.
And Thou, the Chief, whose Seat among the Gods

Is yet uncertain; Whether o'er the Earth,
Cæsar, thy Deity shall chuse to reign,
And o'er it's Cities; while the spacious Globe
Shall Thee acknowledge Donor of it's Food,
And Sov'reign of the Seasons, and thy Head
With thy celestial Mother's Myrtle bind.
Or whether thy Divinity shall rule
The boundless Deep; the Mariners thy Aid
Alone invoke; extremest Thulè own
Thy Sway; while Tethys sues to call thee Son,
And offers all her Ocean's Waves in Dow'r.
Or whether to the tardy Months thou add
Another Constellation; where a Space
Between Erigone, and Scorpio's Arms

Is vacant: See! the burning Scorpion Now,
Ev'n Now, contracts his Claws, and leaves for Thee
A more than just Proportion of the Sky.
Whate'er Thou chuse to be; (for let not Hell
Hope to enjoy Thy Reign, nor let so dire
A Love of Empire harbour in Thy Breast;
Tho' fondly Greece admires th'Elysian Fields,
Nor cares Proserpina to reascend
Following her Mother:) To my Verse indulge
A smooth Carrier, and aid my bold Design;
And pitying, with Me, the simple Swains
Unknowing of their Way, ev'n now invok'd,
Practise the God, and learn to hear our Pray'rs.

With Spring's first Op'ning, when dissolving Snows
From hoary Mountains run, and Zephyr slacks
The crumbling Glebe; ev'n Then my Steers and Plough
In the deep Furrow shall begin to groan,
And the sleek Share to glitter from the Toil.
That Tilth at last rewards the greedy Hind,
And answers all his Hopes, which twice has felt
The Sun, and twice the Frost: By This Manure
Harvests immense shall burst his crouded Barns.

But e'er our Coulter cut the untry'd Mold;
The Winds, and various Temper of the Sky,
Each Region's Genius, and peculiar Taste,
And what by each is born, and what refus'd,
Be it our Care to learn. Here Corn, there Grapes
More happy grow; Elsewhere, Fruit-Trees, and Grass-
Unbidden. Scest thou not how Tmolus sends
It's Saffron Odours? India, Ivory?
The soft Sabaans, aromatick Sweets?
The naked Chalybes, their Iron Ore?

Pontus, it's Castor's Drug? Epirus, Steeds
Born for the Glory of th'Eleian Palm?
These Laws eternal, these Conditions fix'd
Nature on ev'ry diff'rent Clime impos'd;
What time Deucalion thro' th'unpeopled World
First Stones behind him threw: Whence Human Race
A hardy Species was restor'd. Observe
This Precept then; and in the early Spring
Let thy strong Oxen turn the richer Soil;
And dusty Summer with maturest Suns
Bake the inverted Clods. But if the Land
Prove light, and steril; with Arcturus' Star
Appearing, 'twill suffice thee to imprint
A thinner Furrow. There, lest Weeds molest
The sturdy Grain: Here, lest the little Moisture
Exhaling should desert the barren Sand.
Alternate too thou shalt permit to rest

100

The late-shorn Fallows, and the idle Mold
To harden, and with Scurff be overgrown:
Or, with the Season chang'd, thou There shalt sow
The yellow Wheat; first having thence remov'd
The rank luxuriant Pulse, with trembling Pods,
Or the thin Vetches, and the brittle Stalks
Of bitter Lupines, and the russling Grove.
For Flax, and Oats, and Poppies steep'd in Dew
Of drowsy Lethe dry th'exhausted Fields.
Yet easy will th'alternate Labour prove:
Only disdain not Thou with fatt'ning Dung
To feed th'impov'rish'd Mold, nor yet to spread
Unsightly Ashes o'er the heartless Glebe.
So with a Change of Grain the Land will rest:

101

Nor nought th'Advantage of a fallow Soil.
Oft too it has been gainful found to burn
The barren Fields with Stubble's crackling Flames.
Whether from thence they secret Strength receive,
And richer Nutriment: Or by the Fire
All latent Mischief, and redundant Juice
Oozing sweats off: Or whether the same Heat
Opens the hidden Pores, that new Supplies
Of Moisture may refresh the recent Blades:
Or hardens more, and with astringent force
Closes the gaping Veins; lest drisling Show'rs
Should soke too deep, or the Sun's parching Rays,
Or Boreas' piercing Cold should dry the Glebe.

Much too He helps his Tilth, who with the Rake
Breaks the hard lumpish Clods, and o'er them draws
The osier Harrow; nor his Toils in vain
Does yellow Ceres from high Heav'n regard.
And He, who having turn'd the Soil, again

102

Cuts thro' the Ridges with the Share athwart
Directed; with repeated Labour plies
The Ground industrious, and commands his Fields.
For show'ry Summers, and for Winter's Suns,
Ye Farmers, pray: In Winter's Dust the Corn,
And Fields rejoice: In no Manure so proud
Does Mysia glory; nor for aught so much
Does Gargarus it's plenteous Crops admire.

What should I say of Him; who, having sown
His Grain, with ceaseless Industry proceeds,
And spreads abroad the Heaps of barren Sand?
Then to the springing Blades sequacious Rills
Entices? and, when with'ring Herbs betray
The Soil adust, from some steep Mountain's Brow
In Gutters Water draws? That gurgling falls,
With gentle Murmur, down the slipp'ry Stones;
And with it's Streams relieves the thirsty Mold.

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Or what of Him; who, lest the Stalks, o'ercharg'd
By the plump Ears, should sink beneath their Weight,
Crops their Luxuriance in the tender Blade,
When first their Tops ev'n with the Furrows rise?
Or last of Him; who from the soaking Sand
The stagnating collected Puddle drains?
Chiefly, when Rivers, in th'uncertain Months,
Swell o'er their Banks; and all the Country round
Cover the Soil with slimy Mud; from whence
The hollow Dykes with tepid Moisture sweat.
Nor nought, besides, (tho' all Those other Ills
In Tillage are by lab'ring Hinds and Steers
Experienc'd) does the guilty Goose offend;
Strymonian Cranes; and Endive's bitter Root;
And nocent Shade. The Sire of Gods himself
Will'd not that Tillage should be free from Toil.
He first sollicited the restive Mold

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By Art; and whetted mortal Wit with Cares,
Permitting not his Reign to rust with Sloth.

E'er Jove was King, no Hinds subdued the Glebe:
Nor lawful was it held to sever Lands,
Or mark their Bounds: In Common all things lay;
And Earth without Compulsion yielded Food.
He baneful Poyson to fell Serpents gave;
Commanded Wolves to proul, the Sea to toss,
From Trees the Honey shook, conceal'd the Fire:
And all in Streams repress'd the running Wine.
That Want by Thought might strike out various Arts,
Gradual; in Furrows seek the Blade of Corn;
And by Collision from the Veins of Flint
Extund the latent Fire. Then Rivers first
Felt hollow'd Timber: The Sea-firing Crew
Then first gave Names, and Numbers to the Stars,
The Pleiads, Hyads, and the Northern Bear.
'Twas then invented to intangle Beasts
In Toyls, and Fowl with Bird-lime to deceive;
And with stanch Hounds the Thickets to inclose.
One with his Casting-Net, launch'd on the Deep,
Beats the broad River: From the deeper Sea
Another drags along his dropping Twine.
Then rigid Iron, and the grating Saw,

105

With Wedges, first, the splitting Wood they riv'd)
Then various Arts ensued. All things give way
To pressing Penury, and ceaseless Toll.
'Twas Ceres first taught Mortals with the Share
To cut the Ground; when now the sacred Grove
For human use no longer yielded Mast,
Nor Cherries; and Dodona Food deny'd.
Soon after, to the Corn new Labours rose:
That noxious Mildew's Rust should eat the Stalks;
And idle spiky Thistles croud the Fields.
The full Grain dies; a prickly Grove succeeds,
And Burrs, and Tares; and thro' the fertil Lands
Unlucky Darnel, and wild Oats prevail.
Unless then with assiduous Rakes thou work
The Ground, and chase the Birds with scaring Noise;
And with the crooked Pruner lop the Shades
Of spreading Trees, and pray to Heav'n for Show'rs;
Another's Store, in vain, alas! admir'd,

106

Thou shalt behold; and from a shaken Oak
Thy hungry Appetite in Woods relieve.

The Instruments by hardy Rusticks us'd
We next must tell; without whose Use no Seed
Can spring, nor Harvest ripen. First the Share,
And heavy Timber of the crooked Plough:
And Ceres' slowly-rolling Car; and Sleds;
And Flails; and Harrows of unwieldy Weight;
Osiers, and Hurdles; homely Implements
Of Celeus; and Iäechus' mystic Van.
All which with long Fore-Thought thou shalt provide;
If rural Glory, from the Art divine
Of Tillage, justly wait thee. In the Woods
The pliant Elm with mighty Strength is bent,
And takes the Figure of the winding Plough.
To it's Extremity the Beam is join'd,
Eight Feet in length: two Ears, and Dentails broad:
(But the light Linden first, and lofty Beech

107

Are hewn to form the Yoke:) And the Plough-Tail,
By which, behind, the Wheels depress'd are turn'd
This Way, or that: And Smoke explores the Wood
In Chimneys hung. Of antient Rules like these,
Many I can recite; if you attend
Patient, and deign to learn these little Cares.
Chiefly, consolidate with binding Chalk
The Threshing-Floor; and knead it with your Hand,
And smooth it with the huge Cylindrick Stone:
Lest Grass spring up, lest vitiated with Dust,
It chap in Chinks: then various Vermin breed
Noxious to Farmers. Oft the tiny Mouse
Nests under Ground, and stores her Granaries:
Or eyeless delving Moles their Mansions dig:
And Toads in Cranies found: And num'rous Pests
Which Earth produces: The high Stacks of Corn
Are wasted by the Weevil; and the Ant
In time providing for the Wants of Age.

Observe too, when in Woods the Almond tall
Blossoms with Flow'rs, and bends its smelling Boughs:
If Fruit prevail, the same thy Crop will prove,
And mighty Store the Thresher's Sweat reward.

108

But if by Leaves luxuriant Shade abound;
Thy Flail shall beat thin Chaff and Straw in vain.

Many I've known to medicate their Seed,
In Nitre steep'd, and the black Lees of Oil;
That in the Bean's fallacious Shell, the Grain
Might bigger grow: And tho' o'er mod'rate Fire
Moist, and precipitated, and with Pain
Long try'd and chosen, oft they have been prov'd
Degenerate, in Spight of so much Care;
Unless by human Industry and Art
The largest, one by one, have from the rest
Yearly been cull'd. So all things to the Worse
By Fate still backwards run: Like him who stems
The Tide adverse; if chance he slack his Arms,
Down the prone Stream his Sculler whirls away.

Besides; not less by Us must be observ'd
Arcturus' Stars, the rising Kids, and Snake
Celestial: than by Those who homewards bound
Sail the tempestuous Ocean, and the Straits
Of Oyster-breeding Hellespont explore.

109

When Libra weighs the Hours of Day, and Sleep,
Equal, and parts the Globe 'twixt Light and Shade;
Then work your Steers, Ye Hinds, sow Barley's Grain,
'Till sleety Winter tow'rds it's Period tends.
Flax too, and Cerealian Poppey's Seed
'Tis time to hide in Furrows, and to urge
The Ploughman's Labour; while the drier Soil
Permits, and Clouds hang hov'ring in the Sky.
Sow Beans in Spring; then too the crumbling Glebe
Receives thee, Median Flow'r; and th'annual Toil
For Millet comes: when now with golden Horns
The shining Bull unlocks the op'ning Year;
And, setting, to the Ship the Dog gives Way.
But if for Wheat, and Bread-Corn's sturdy Sheaves
Thou till, industrious for That Crop alone;

110

First let the Morning Pleiades forsake
Th'Horizon, and the Starry Gnossian Crown
From the Sun's Rays emerge; before the Seed
To Furrows thou commit, or trust the Earth
Unwilling with the Promise of the Year.

Many e'er Maia's Setting, have begun:
But them th'expected Harvest has deceiv'd.
If Vetches, and the hungry Pulse thou sow,
And think Ægyptian Lentils worth thy Care;
Signs not obscure Böotes sinking gives:
Begin, and to the middle Frosts proceed.
For Purposes like these, the golden Sun
Thro' twice six Constellations rules the World,
Sever'd by equal Parts. Five Zones divide
The Heav'ns; Of which One red with Solar Fire
For ever burns; Two (one on either Hand,

111

And in the Globe's Extreme) round this are drawn,
Stiff with green Ice, and black with low'ring Clouds:
'Twixt These, and That which fills the middle Space,
Two by th'Indulgence of the Gods were giv'n
To weary Mortals; and between them Both
A Way describ'd, thro' which in Course oblique
The glittering Order of the Signs might roll.
As tow'rds bleak Scythia, and Riphæan Hills,
The Globe is elevated; just so much
Depress'd to Libya, South, it downward tends.
This Pole to Us is still sublime; but That
Black Styx, and the Tartarean Manes see
Beneath their Feet. Here huge with sinuous Fold
The Snake twines round, and like a River flows
'Twixt the two Bears; the Bears that dread to tinge
Themselves in Ocean. There, as 'tis believ'd,
Eternal Dead of Night in Silence reigns;
Or to That Clime from Us Aurora's Car
Brings back returning Day; and when the Sun
On Us breaths, Orient, with his panting Steeds,
There Vesper reddens late, and lights the Stars.
From hence in doubtful Air we may foretel
The Weather; hence the Times to reap, and sow:

112

And when 'tis fit to sweep the faithless Sea
With Oars; and when to launch our armed Fleets;
Or when in Woods to fell the season'd Pine.

Nor is it vain that we with Care observe
The Stars, the rising and the setting Signs,
And by four Seasons the distinguish'd Year.
When the cold Rain confines the Farmer Home;
At Leisure various Things he may provide,
Which should be hasten'd, were the Sky serene.
He sharpens his blunt Share; scoops Boats from Trees;
Or marks his Cattle, or his Sacks of Corn.
Some point their Stakes, and double-spiky Prongs;
And Osiers twist to bind the flexile Vine:
Now Wicker-Baskets with light Rods they weave:
Now parch Your Grain, now grind it in the Mill.

Some Labours ev'n on sacred Days the Laws
Indulge us: No Religion e'er forbade

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To drain the Fields; to hedge the Corn around;
Brambles to burn; or Snares to lay for Birds;
Or plunge the bleating Flocks in healthful Streams.
Oft too the Driver of the sluggish Ass,
With Oil, or viler Apples loads his Ribs;
Or, from the Town returning, with him brings
A dented Milstone, or a Mass of Pitch.

The Moon herself has certain Days ordain'd
Happy of Toils, in certain Order rang'd.
Avoid the Fifth: Then gloomy Dis was born,
And all the Furies: then the Parent Earth,
Teeming with Monsters, to the Light disclos'd
Cœus, Iäpetus, Typhœus dire,
Those rebel Brothers leagu'd to rend the Sky.
Thrice they assay'd on Peliön to heave
Ossa: on Ossa still more high to roll
Woody Olympus: thrice the Sire of Gods
Lanc'd the red Bolt, and hurl'd the Mountains down.
Next to the Tenth the Seventh is happy prov'd,
To plant the Vine; to break the new-yok'd Steers;
And add the Woof to Looms. The Ninth to Flight
Is found propitious, but adverse to Theft.

In humid Night Things not a few succeed
More prosp'rous; Or when Morn bedews the Ground,

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With the first rising Sun. Stubble by Night,
And the dry Meadow's Grass is better mow'd:
Moisture by Night is never known to fail.
One watches late by Light of Winter Fires;
And with the sharpen'd Steel for Torches splits
The spiky Wood: Meanwhile his Spouse with Songs
Relieves her tedious Toil, and thro' the Web
Along the Loom her whistling Shuttle whirls;
Or of sweet Must boils down the luscious Juice;
And skims with Leaves the trembling Cauldron's Flood.
But the strong yellow Corn in Mid-Day's Heat
Is reap'd; in Mid-Day's Heat the Threshing-Floor
Groans with the Flail, that beats the roasted Grain.
Plough naked; naked sow; The lazy Hinds
With the Earth in Winter rest: That Time they pass
In mutual Feasting, and enjoy their Store:
The genial Season to those Feasts invites
The jolly Farmers, and dispels their Cares.
As when the laden Vessels touch the Port;
The jovial Crew with Garlands crown their Sterns.

115

Yet then too is the Time to strip the Oil
From Olives; Mast from Oaks; from Myrtle and Bay
The bloody-colour'd Berries: then to set
Springes for Cranes, and Toyls for Stags; to hunt
The Hare; and from the Balearian Sling
With twisted Thong whirl'd round to shoot the Doe.
While Snow lies deep; while heavy Cakes of Ice,
Push'd by the Tide, down the dull Rivers float.

Autumnal Tempests, and uncertain Stars,
Why should I tell? And what by Hinds with Care
Must be provided; when the Day contracts,
And Summer softens? Or when show'ry Spring
Hastes to it's Period; when the trembling Ears
Wave with the Wind; and now the growing Grain
On the green Stalk with milky Moisture swells?
Oft have I seen, when now the Farmer brought

116

The Reaper to his yellow Fields, and bound
His Sheaves with brittle Straw, the warring Winds
All rise at once, and from the Roots uprend
His full-ear'd Corn, and whirl it high in Air.
With such a Gust a Hurricane would drive
Light, flying Stubble. Oft too Floods immense
Of Waters gush from Heav'n; and gather'd Clouds
Brew the black Storm aloft, with dusky Show'rs:
The rushing Sky descends, and with vast Rain
Drowns the rich Crop, and Labours of the Plough.
The hollow Dykes are fill'd: With roaring Noise
The foaming Rivers swell; and in the Friths
Toss'd by the Wind the wintry Ocean boils.
Great Jove himself, amidst the Night of Clouds,
Hurls with his red Right-hand the forky Fire:
Earth trembles; savage Beasts to Coverts fly;
And Mortals' Hearts o'er all the World with Dread

117

Sink shudd'ring, and appall'd. He with his Bolts
Or Thracian Rhodope, or Athos strikes,
Or high Ceraunia: With redoubled Force
The Winds condense the Tempest: Woods roar loud
With struggling Blasts; and Rivers lash their Shores.

Thou fearing This, observe the Months, and Stars;
Whither cold Saturn's Planet wheels it's Course;
And thro' what Orbs of Heav'n Cyllenius roves.
Chiefly adore, and supplicate the Gods;
And annual Off'rings to great Ceres bring,
On the green Turf performing sacred Rites;
When Winter ends, and Spring now smiles serene.
Then Lambs are fat; and Wines most soft; Then Sleep
Most sweet; Then leafy Trees the Mountains shade.
Ceres let all thy Rustick Youth adore;
For Her do Thou with Honey mingle Milk,
And gentle Wine: And round the recent Grain
Let the propitious Victim thrice be led:
Her in full Chorus let the Peasants all
Singing attend, and with loud Shouts invite
Ceres beneath their Roofs: Nor Any thrust
His Sickle to the Corn; 'till wreath'd with Oak
To Ceres he has paid the Honours due,
With uncouth Dances, and unpolish'd Verse.

That we by sure Prognosticks might foreknow

118

The Heats, the Rains, and Cold-producing Winds;
What by the Monthly Moon should be advis'd,
Great Jove himself ordain'd: Beneath what Star
Auster's rough Blasts should fall; and what the Swains
Observing, should near Home their Flocks confine.

When Winds are rising, strait the tossing Sea
Begins to swell; Or a dry crashing Noise
Is in the Mountains heard; Or more confus'd
The distant Shores, and murm'ring Woods resound.
With difficulty Then the Billows spare

119

The crooked Ships; when flying nearer Land
The swift-wing'd Cormorants forsake the Deep,
And send their Screams before them to the Beach.
And when the Sea-Gulls sport upon the Sand;
And when, deserting her accustom'd Ponds,
The tow'ring Hern soars high above the Clouds.
Oft too, when Wind impends, you shall behold
Stars glide from Heav'n; long Streaks of Fire, behind,
Stream thro nocturnal Shades; Light Chaff, and Leaves
Fall'n from the Trees, in Eddies whirl around;
Or Feathers on the Water's Surface play.

But from the Quarter of the boist'rous North
When Lightnings flash; and from the East and West
The grumbling Thunder rolls: Then all with Rain
The Country swims; and Floods in Ditches swell:
Then ev'ry Mariner, sea-faring, furls
His humid Sails: None e'er have aught, unwarn'd,
Suffer'd from Show'rs. Or them aëreal Cranes
Fled, rising from the Vales: Or, tossing high
Her Head in Air, the Heifer snuff'd the Storm
In her broad Nostrils: Or with flutt'ring Wings
The prattling Swallow skim'd the liquid Lakes:
Or Frogs in Mud their antient Plaints renew'd.

120

Oft from her secret Cell the painful Ant,
Marking a narrow Path, brings forth her Eggs:
The show'ry Bow drinks deep: And Flocks of Crows
With mingled Clang their clatt'ring Pinions shake,
Return'd from Feeding. Now the various Birds,
Which haunt the Sea, and Those which range around
Asia's soft Meads, and lov'd Cäyster's Lakes,
You shall behold in emulation toss
Large Water on their Wings, now plunge their Heads
Beneath the Waves, now run into the Stream,
And, sporting, strive to wash their Plumes in vain.
Th'unlucky Raven with full Throat invites
The Rain; and in her solitary Walk
Alone expatiates on the harden'd Sand.
Nor do the Damsels, who industrious ply
Their nightly Spinning, not foreknow These Storms:
When in their Potsherd-Lamp they see the Oil
Sputter in Sparks, and fungous Clots adhere.

Nor less Serenity succeeding Show'rs,
And sunny Skies, by sure unfailing Signs
Thou may'st foretel. For then with keener Edge
The Stars shine brillant: Rises bright the Moon,

121

As nought indebted to her Brother's Beams.
No thin light Clouds, like Flakes of fleecy Wool,
Fly thro' the Air: Nor to the tepid Sun
Do Halycons, lov'd by Thetis, stretch their Wings
Along the Shore: Nor sordid Swine delight
With their foul Snouts to toss the bundled Straw.
But lower, near to Earth the Mists descend,
Incumbent on the Fields: And now the Bird
Of Night, observant of the setting Sun,
Sings her late Song from some high Tow'r in vain.
Nisus appears sublime in liquid Air;
And Scylla rues the ravish'd purple Hair.
Where-e'er She flying cuts the yielding Sky,
Lo! fierce, revengeful, with a mighty Noise
Nisus pursues; where-e'er fierce Nisus wheels,

122

She swiftly flying cuts the yielding Sky.
With Thoughts compress'd the Crows their clearer Notes
Thrice, and four times repeat; and, in their Nests
High tow'ring, with I know not what Delight
Unusual fill'd, their mutual Joy express,
And caw among the Leaves: The Storms now past,
To their lov'd Homes with pleasure they return,
Shake their glad Wings, and feed their callow Young.
Not that I think an Ingeny Divine
To them is giv'n, or Prescience of Events
In Fate superior: But when changeful Winds
Alter the various Temper of the Sky;
And the moist Æther what before was dense

123

Relaxes, and condenses what was rare:
The shifting Phantasms of their Minds are turn'd;
And now within their Breasts new Passions move,
Diff'rent from Those they felt, when driving Blasts
Dispers'd the Clouds: Hence That Concent of Birds
Chirping in Chorus; Hence the Joy of Beasts;
And Flocks of Crows exulting in the Fields.

But if the rapid Sun thou shalt regard,
And the just Order of succeeding Moons:
Thou ne'er shalt by To-morrow be deceiv'd,
Nor aught from faithless Starry Nights endure.
If, when the Moon collects returning Light,
Her blunted Horns include a dusky Air;
Then mighty Rain impends o'er Land and Sea.
But if a Virgin Blush be o'er her Face
Diffus'd; 'Twill then be Wind: With Blasts of Wind
Still golden Phœbe reddens. But if bright
At her Fourth Rising (for the Fourth predicts
Most certainly) and with sharpen'd Horns she wheel
Along the Sky; Then all That Day, and Those
Succeeding, 'till the Month completed ends,
Nor Rain, nor Winds shall know: And on the Shore
The Mariners shall for their Safety pay
Their Vows to Melicertes, Ino-born,
And Panope, and Glaucus, Ocean-Gods.

Nor less the Sun, when rising in the East,
And when descending to the Western Waves,

124

Will Tokens give; The Sun sure Signs attend,
Both in the op'ning Morn, and Starry Eve.
When, rising in a Cloud, his Face with Spots
He varies, and with half his Orb retires;
Be Show'rs suspected: Notus from above
Threatens, to Trees, and Flocks, and Corn adverse.
Or when among dark Mists, at Dawn of Day,
The breaking Rays stream diverse; or with faint
Pale Aspect, from Tithonus' Saffron Bed
Aurora rises; then alas! the Leaves
Shall ill defend the rip'ning Grapes: so thick
Dire Hail shall dance, and rattle on the Tiles.
These Tokens too, when now he leaves the Sky,
'Twill more import to learn: For oft we see
How various Colours wander o'er his Face;
The livid, Rain foretels; The fiery, Winds:
But with the glowing Red if Spots begin
To mingle; all things then with Winds and Rain
Confus'd thou shalt behold: Ah! then let None
Persuade me ill-advis'd to tempt the Deep,

125

And loose my Cable from the safer Shore.
But if at both the Dawn, and Close of Day,
His Globe be lucid; Vain shall prove thy Fears
Of Tempests; and the Woods thou shalt behold
With the clear Northern Blasts serenely wave.

In fine; What Vesper's Ev'ning Planet brings,
From whence the Wind dispels the drier Clouds,
What humid Auster meditates, the Sun
Will best advise. The Sun who dares pronounce
Erroneous? He too oft foretels the Storms
Of Tumults, Treasons, and approaching Wars.

He too, at Cæsar's Murder, pitying Rome,
With dusky Scurf obscur'd his beamy Head;
And impious Mortals fear'd eternal Night.
Tho' at that Time Earth too, and spacious Seas,

126

And Dogs obscene, and ill-presaging Birds
Gave dire Portents. How oft have we beheld
Loud thund'ring Ætna from Volcanos burst,
Deluge with liquid Fire Cyclopean Fields,
And toss huge Balls of Flame, and molten Stones?
O'er all the Sky Germania heard the Clank
Of Arms: Unusual Shudd'rings rock'd the Alps:
And oft in silent Woods were Voices more
Than human heard: And Spectres wond'rous pale
Seen in the Dusk of Ev'ning: Oxen spoke,
(Horrid to tell!) Earth yawn'd, and Streams stood still:
In Temples mourning Iv'ry wept; and Brass
Sweated: Eridanus, Supreme of Rivers,
With roaring Inundation, o'er the Plains,
Swept Woods away, and Cattle, with their Stalls.
Nor did, mean-while, th'ill-boding Fibres cease
To menace Fate; nor Blood to rise in Wells;
Nor Cities loudly to resound with Wolves
Howling by Night. Ne'er from unclouded Sky
Did Lightnings with more nimble Flashes glare;
Nor e'er so thick did baleful Comets blaze.

127

For This, Philippi saw the Roman Troops
Twice in like Arms engage; and Heav'n thought fit
That twice Emathia, and th'extended Fields
Of Hæmus, should be fatten'd with our Blood.
Nay, and the Time shall come; when in Those Coasts
The lab'ring Peasant, with the crooked Share
Turning the Glebe, shall plough up Jav'lings furr'd
With eating Rust; and with the pond'rous Rakes
Clash against empty Helmets; and admire
Big, manly Bones, digg'd from their open'd Graves.

Ye Tutelary Gods, Thou Romulus,
And Parent Vesta, whose Indulgence guards
Etrurian Tyber, and the Roman Tow'rs;
Permit at least This wondrous Youth to prop
The reeling Globe: Long since our Blood has paid
Due Forfeit for the Perjuries of Troy.

128

Long since, O Cæsar, the Celestial Court
Has envy'd Us Thy Presence; and repines
Thou shouldst on mortal Triumphs be employ'd.
Where Right and Wrong are blended; O'er the World
So many Wars, such various Forms of Vice:
Tillage has lost it's due Regard; The Hinds
Press'd into Soldiers, Fields lie waste, and wild;
And crooked Scythes are hammer'd into Swords.
Euphrates here, There Germany makes War:
The neighb'ring Cities break their Leagues, and rush
To Arms: Mars impious storms o'er all the World.
As when the Racers from their Barriers start,
Oft whirling round the Goal; The Charioteer
Vainly attempts to check the flying Steeds:
Himself is born away: The dusty Car
Swift smokes along; nor, bounding, hears the Rein.

The End of the First Book.