 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
157
HORACE, Epod. II.
Blest! Country-man, who, free from Care,
As Men, in the First Ages, were;
With his own Oxen Tills the Plains;
A Stranger! to Usurious Gains.
Who fears, from angry Seas, no Harm,
Nor dreads the Trumpet's hoarse Alarm;
Nor plies the Bar; nor needs to wait
At the proud Levees of the Great.
As Men, in the First Ages, were;
With his own Oxen Tills the Plains;
A Stranger! to Usurious Gains.
Who fears, from angry Seas, no Harm,
Nor dreads the Trumpet's hoarse Alarm;
Nor plies the Bar; nor needs to wait
At the proud Levees of the Great.
His pleasing Care is, then, to twine
The lofty Poplar with the Vine;
Or wither'd Boughs, that, useless, lie,
With healthful Cyons to supply.
Or, in a Valley, at his Ease,
Reclin'd, the lowing Herd he sees;
Or stores up Honey, fit to keep
In Vessels pure; Or sheers his Sheep:
Or, when mild Autumn rears his Head
Around, with ripen'd Fruit o'erspread,
He gathers, then, delightful Care!
The purple Grape, and grafted Pear;
With their due Offerings, to address
The Gods, who Fields and Gardens bless.
The lofty Poplar with the Vine;
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With healthful Cyons to supply.
Or, in a Valley, at his Ease,
Reclin'd, the lowing Herd he sees;
Or stores up Honey, fit to keep
In Vessels pure; Or sheers his Sheep:
Or, when mild Autumn rears his Head
Around, with ripen'd Fruit o'erspread,
He gathers, then, delightful Care!
The purple Grape, and grafted Pear;
With their due Offerings, to address
The Gods, who Fields and Gardens bless.
Now, stretch'd beneath the Shade, he lies,
Now, on the Grass, in open Skies:
Mean Time the Birds renew their Song;
The slow, deep Current creeps along:
While the soft Noise of purling Streams
Invites to Sleep, and pleasing Dreams.
Now, on the Grass, in open Skies:
Mean Time the Birds renew their Song;
The slow, deep Current creeps along:
While the soft Noise of purling Streams
Invites to Sleep, and pleasing Dreams.
159
But! when the Snows and Rains appear;
The Stormy Season of the Year!
The Boar into the Toil he drives!
The Boar! in vain, intangled, strives:
Or Nets he spreads upon the Bush;
A Snare for the Voracious Thrush!
Or takes the Crane, or timorous Hare;
Fit! Prizes of a Sports-Man's Care.
Who, with these Manly Pleasures blest,
Drives not Love's Torments from his Breast?
The Stormy Season of the Year!
The Boar into the Toil he drives!
The Boar! in vain, intangled, strives:
Or Nets he spreads upon the Bush;
A Snare for the Voracious Thrush!
Or takes the Crane, or timorous Hare;
Fit! Prizes of a Sports-Man's Care.
Who, with these Manly Pleasures blest,
Drives not Love's Torments from his Breast?
Let but a Chaste, tho' Homely Spouse,
Careful of Children and the House,
Like some plain Dame, with Sun-burnt Face,
Of Sabine, or Apulian Race,
Prepare, at my Return, a good
And chearful Fire of dry, old Wood;
Let her but milk the gladsome Kine,
Bring unbought Food, and new-press'd Wine;
The Lucrine Oyster I'd o'erlook;
Nor, for the Turbot, bait my Hook;
Or Scarus (of it-self a Feast!)
In Tempests driven from the East.
I would despise the Asian Pheasant,
And the Ionian Snipe, more pleasant
Than Olives, gather'd fresh, that grow,
Luxuriant, on the richest Bough!
Or Wood-sorrel, or Marsh-Mallows,
Which makes us Hale and Lusty Fellows;
Or the fattest Lamb, that e'er
Priest for the Altar did prepare;
Or fattest Kid, the watchful Swain,
From the fierce Wolf, did e'er regain.
Careful of Children and the House,
Like some plain Dame, with Sun-burnt Face,
Of Sabine, or Apulian Race,
Prepare, at my Return, a good
And chearful Fire of dry, old Wood;
Let her but milk the gladsome Kine,
Bring unbought Food, and new-press'd Wine;
160
Nor, for the Turbot, bait my Hook;
Or Scarus (of it-self a Feast!)
In Tempests driven from the East.
I would despise the Asian Pheasant,
And the Ionian Snipe, more pleasant
Than Olives, gather'd fresh, that grow,
Luxuriant, on the richest Bough!
Or Wood-sorrel, or Marsh-Mallows,
Which makes us Hale and Lusty Fellows;
Or the fattest Lamb, that e'er
Priest for the Altar did prepare;
Or fattest Kid, the watchful Swain,
From the fierce Wolf, did e'er regain.
Thus! while we feast, with what Delight,
See! we the Sheep return, at Night?
See! we the tardy Oxen come,
Lugging th'unwieldy Plow-share Home!
And Labourers round the Fire-side;
The Farmer's Splendor, Wealth, and Pride.
See! we the Sheep return, at Night?
See! we the tardy Oxen come,
Lugging th'unwieldy Plow-share Home!
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The Farmer's Splendor, Wealth, and Pride.
Thus Damer talk'd, and said, That He
Thenceforth a Country-man wou'd be.
Yet! now, His Interest he demands,
To put it out, upon new Bonds.
Thenceforth a Country-man wou'd be.
Yet! now, His Interest he demands,
To put it out, upon new Bonds.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |