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Whence joyful harvests spring, what heav'nly sign
Invites the plough, and weds to elms the vine;
How rear'd, Mæcenas, flocks and cattle thrive,
And what experience stores the frugal hive;
I sing.--Ye lights of heav'n! whose sov'reign sway
Leads on the year around th' ethereal way:
Bacchus and Ceres! if beneath your reign
Earth chang'd Chaonian mast for golden grain,
First found the grape, and mingling with the wave,
To Acheloian bowls its nectar give:
Ye, too, whose gifts my votive numbers guide,
Fauns and fair Dryads that o'er swains preside;
And thou, whose powerful trident shook the earth
When first the steed proud neighing sprung to birth;
Guardian of woods! whose herds, a snowy breed,
Three hundred beeves, on fertile Cæa feed:
God of the fleece, forsake thy native shades,
Leave thou awhile thy own Lycæan glades,
And if the Mænalus yet claim thy care,
Hear, Tegeæan Pan! th' invoking pray'r.
Pallas! whose voice the olive rais'd; and thou,
Fam'd youth, inventor of the crooked plough!
And thou, Sylvanus, in whose hand is borne
A sapling cypress with its roots uptorn;
Oh come, protectors of the plains! descend;
Each god and goddess at my call attend,
Who rear new plants that earth spontaneous yields,
Or feed with prosperous show'rs the cultur'd fields.


Thou, Caesar, chief, where'er thy voice ordain
To fix 'mid gods thy yet unchosen reign--
Wilt thou o'er cities rule? shall earth obey?
The world's vast orb shall roll beneath thy sway;
Fruits and fair seasons from thy influence flow,
And the maternal myrtle wreathe thy brow;
O'er boundless ocean shall thy pow'r prevail,
Thee her sole lord the world of waters hail!
Rule, where the sea remotest Thule laves,
While Tethys' dow'rs thy bride with all her waves.
Wilt thou 'mid Scorpius and the Virgin rise,
And, a new star, illume thy native skies?
Scorpius, e'en now, each shrinking claw confines,
And more than half his heav'n to thee resigns.
Where'er thy reign (for not, if hell invite,
May such dire lust of sway thy soul delight,
Though Greece Elysium vaunt, and oft in vain,
Lorn Ceres woo her child to earth again),
Breathe fav'ring gales, my course propitious guide,
O'er the rude swain's uncertain path preside;
No, now invoked, assert thy heav'nly birth,
And learn to hear our pray'rs, a god on earth.


When first young Zephyr melts the mountain snow,
And Spring unbinds the mellow'd mould below,
Press the deep plough, and urge the groaning team
Where the worn shares 'mid opening furrows gleam.
Lands, that the summer sun has twice matur'd,
Twice the keen frost, and wintry cold endur'd,
Profuse of wealth repay th' insatiate swain,
And pour from bursting barns th' exuberant grain.


Ere virgin earth first feel th' invading share,
The genius of the place demands thy care:
The culture, clime, the winds, and changeful skies,
And what each region bears, and what denies.
Here golden harvests wave, there vineyards glow,
Fruit bends the bough, or herbs unbidden grow--
Her saffron, Tmolus, Ind her ivory boasts,
Soft Saba yields the spice that scents her coasts;
Pontus the pow'rful Castor, Chalybs' steel,
And Elis' palms th' Epiran steeds reveal.
In stated regions, from th' eternal Cause,
Such nature's compact and unbroken laws;
Such from the time when first Deucalion hurl'd
The stones, whence man's harsh race o'erspread the world.


Come, when new Spring first claims the timely toil,
Break with laborious steers the generous soil,
And give the sun through many a summer day
to bake the clod, and feed with ripening ray;
But in light furrows turn th' unfertile ground
When slow Arcturus wheels his lingering round:
There, lest rude weeds should choke the rising grain,
And here, scant moisture fail the sandy plain.


Rest by alternate fallows wearied earth,
And leave the soil to harden into birth;
Or sow, the season chang'd, with grain the clod,
Where the bean harvest burst the shatter'd pod,
Or the light vetch and bitter lupine grew,
Bow'd to the gale, and rattled as it blew.
Oats and flaxen harvest burn the ground,
And poppies shedding slumb'rous dews around.
Yet shall thy lands through easier labor rear
Fresh crops by changeful produce year by year,
If rich manure new life and nurture yield,
And ashes renovate th' exhausted field.
Thus interchanging harvests earth repair,
Nor lands unplough'd, meantime, no profit bear.


Much it avails to burn the sterile lands
And stubble crackling as the flame expands;
Whether earth gain fresh strength or richer food,
Or noxious moisture, forced by fire, exude;
Whether it draw through many an opening vein
Juice to fresh plants that clothe anew the plain,
Or brace the pores that, pervious to the day,
Felt the prone sun's intolerable ray,
To piercing show'rs th' expanded fissure close,
And the chill north that blisters as it blows.


Th' obdurate glebe with frequent harrow break,
With osier hurdles each dull clod awake.
Fair Ceres self shall kindly view thy toil,
When sidelong furrows cross the furrow'd soil.
Thus rule the fields, exert despotic sway,
Pursue thy triumph, and bid earth obey.


Swains! pray for wintry dust, and summer rain;
Then smiles the freshen'd earth, and golden plain:
More rich the crop on Mysia's fertile fields,
And Gargarus wonders at the wealth he yields.


Him shall I praise, who o'er the new-sown earth
Crumbles the clods that hide th' intrusted birth,
Freshens with streams that at his pleasure glide,
And leads th' obedient rills from side to side?
'Mid gasping herbs when fever'd nature dies,
Lo! on yon brow whence bubbling springs arise,
The peasant bending o'er th' expanse below
Directs the channell'd waters where to flow:
Down the smooth rock melodious murmurs glide,
And a new verdure gleams beneath the tide.


Him shall I praise, who, lest th' o'erloaded ear
Shed with prone stem the promise of the year,
Feeds down its rank luxuriance, when the blade
Waves level with the ridge its rising shade;
Or who, in changeful months, and flooding rains,
Down the drench'd sand th' o'erflowing marshes drains,
When oozy rivers far and wide expand,
And issuing vapors smoke along the land?


Yet when the sturdy swain and patient steer
Have tamed the land by many a toil severe;
Cranes, noxious geese, and succory's bitter root
Waste, or injurious woods o'ershade the fruit.


Not to dull Indolence and transient Toil
Great Jove resign'd the conquest of the soil:
He bad sharp Care make keen the heart, nor deign'd
That sloth should linger where his godhead reign'd.
Ere Jove bore rule, no labor tamed the ground,
None dared to raise the fence, or mark the bound:
Nature for all her fruits profusely bore,
And the free earth, unask'd, but proffer'd more.
Jove to the serpent fang new venom gave,
Commanded wolves to prowl, and swell'd the wave;
From leaves their honey shook, the fire withheld,
And wand'ring streams, that flow'd with wine, pell'd.
Jove will'd that Man, by long experience taught,
Should various arts invent by gradual thought,
Strike from the flint's cold womb the latent flame,
And from the answering furrow nurture claim.
Then first the hollow'd alder prest the stream,
Then sailors watch'd each star's directing beam,
Number'd the host of heav'n, and nam'd the train,
Pleiads, and Hyads, and the northern Wain;
Then snares, and lime, the beast and bird betray'd,
And deep-mouth'd hounds inclosed the forest glade;
Light meshes lash'd the stream with circling sweep,
And weighted nets descending dragg'd the deep;
Then iron, and the saw's shrill-grating edge,
Eas'd the rude efforts of the forceful wedge;
Hence various arts: stern labor all subdues,
And ceaseless toil that urging want pursues.


First pitying Ceres taught the famish'd swain
With iron shares to turn the stubborn plain,
What time the arbute fail'd and fail'd the food
Shower'd from the oak along Dodona's wood.
New cares the corn pursued: here mildew fed,
There thistles rear'd aloft their horrent head:
The harvest perishes; with prickles crown'd,
The burr and caltrop bristle all around:
Their baleful growth wild oats and darnel rear,
And tow'r in triumph o'er the golden ear.
Harrow, re-harrow, lop, re-lop each spray,
Vex heaven for rain, shout, shout the birds away,
Or thou on crops not thine shalt gaze and grieve,
And from the shaken oak sore want relieve.


Now learn what arms industrious peasants wield,
To sow the furrow'd glebe, and clothe the field:
The share, the crooked plough's strong beam, the wain
That slowly rolls on Ceres to her fane:
Flails, sleds, light osiers, and the harrow's load,
The hurdle, and the mystic van of God.
These, mindful, long provide, ere use require,
If rural fame thy breast with glory fire.


Form'd for the crooked plough, by force subdu'd,
Bend the touch elm yet green amid the wood:
Beyond eight feet in length the beam extend,
With double back the pointed share defend,
Double the earth-boards that the glebe divide,
And cast the furrow'd ridge on either side;
But light the polish'd yoke of linden bough,
And light the beechen staff that turns the plough.
These long suspend where smoke their strength explores,
And seasons into use, and binds their pores.


Nor thou the rules our fathers taught despise,
Sires by long practice and tradition wise.


With ponderous roller smooth the level floor,
And bind with chalky cement o'er and oe'r;
Lest weeds spring up, and as it wears away,
The tiny mouse creep thro' its chinks today.
There rise his granaries, there the blind mole works,
There the lone toad within its hollow lurks,
And all the nameless monsters of the soil,
That swarm and fatten on thy gather'd spoil:
The weevil wasting with insatiate rage,
And the wise ant that dreads the want of age.


With many a bud if flow'ring almonds bloom,
And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume,
So shall thy harvest like profusion yield,
And cloudless suns mature the fertile field:
But if the branch, in pomp of leaf array'd,
Diffuse a vain exuberance of shade,
So fails the promise of th' expected year,
And chaff and straw defraud the golden ear.


Some medicate the beans, with previous toil
Steep them in nitre, and dark lees of oil,
But false their swell, and oft the chosen seed,
Seeth'd in slow fires, that maturate the breed.
Yet have I seen the chosen seeds deceive,
And o'er degenerate crops the peasant grieve:
Save where slow patience, o'er and o'er again,
Cull'd yearly one by one the largest grain;
So all, forced back by Fate's resistless sway,
To swift destruction falls and sad decay.


Thus if the boatman who long-laboring plied
The stubborn oar that scarcely stemm'd the tide,
Once, once relax, the stream's o'erwhelming force
Drives him, whirl'd backwards, down its headlong course.


Nor less intent, Arcturus' train behold,
The Kid's bright beams, and Dragon's lucid fold,
Than the bold crew that sweep the Euxine o'er,
And by Abydos seek their native shore.


When poising Libra rest and labor weighs,
And parts with equal balance nights and days,
Goad, goad the steer, with barley sow the plain
Till the bleak solstice sheds its latest rain.
While yet the glebe is dry, beneath the earth
Hide the young flax, and poppy's future birth,
And urge the harrow while the clouds impend,
And tempests gather, ere the rains descend.


When Taurus' golden horns the year unbar,
And Sirius ''gins to pale' his yielding star,
Then beans and lucerne claim the mellow soil,
And millet springing from thy yearly toil.


But if thy labor from the cultur'd plain
Exact rich wheat, strong spelt, and bearded grain,
Trust not the furrow, nor with lavish haste
The promise of the year untimely waste,
Before the Pleiads from the dawn retire,
Or Ariadne gleams with matin fire.
Swains, who, ere Maia sets, cast forth the seed,
Mourn o'er delusive crops their fruitless speed.


But if Pelusian lentils clothe the plain,
Nor thou th' unvalued beams descend,
And 'mid hoar frosts thy patient toil extend.


For this the golden sun the earth divides,
And, wheel'd thro' twelve bright signs, his chariot guides.
Five zones the heav'n surround: the centre glows
With fire unquench'd, and suns without repose:
At each extreme the poles in tempest tossed
Dark with thick show'rs, and unremitting frost:
Between the poles and blazing zone confined
Lie climes to feeble man by Heav'n assign'd.
'Mid these the signs their course obliquely run,
And star the figur'd belt that binds the sun.
High as at Scythian cliffs the world ascends,
Thus low at Libyan plains its circle bends.
O'er us perpetual glows th' exalted pole;
There gloomy Styx, and hell's deep shadows roll:
Here the huge Snake in many a volume glides,
Winds like a stream, and either Bear divides,
The Bears that dread their flaming lights to lave,
And slowly roll above the ocean wave.
There night, 'tis said, and silence ever sleep,
And gathering darkness broods upon the deep:
Or from our clime, when fades the orient ray,
There bright Aurora beams returning day:
And here when first the Sun's hot coursers breathe,
Late Vesper lights his evening star beneath.


Experience hence the doubtful storm fore-learns,
When best to sow, when best to reap, discerns.
Oar the false wave, or trust with fleets the flood,
Or timely fell the pine that crown'd the wood.


Thus observation reads the starry sphere,
And fourfold parts, as seasons change, the year.
Swains shelter'd from the shower at leisure frame
Works that serener skies impatient claim;
Scoop troughs from trees, or mark each hoarded heap,
Or head the two-horn'd forks, or brand the sheep;
Point the sharp stake, or edge the blunted share,
For flexile vines the willowy wreath prepare;
Light baskets weave with pliant osier twined,
Now parch the grain, and now with millstones grind.


E'en 'mid high feasts to holy leisure giv'n,
Earth claims a part, nor fears offended Heav'n:
Then drain the dikes, snare birds, and fire the thorn,
And lave the bleating flock, and fence the corn.
Then oft the peasant balancing his loads,
The sluggish mule beneath his burden goads;
Brings pitch and millstones home for barter'd oil,
And fruit, cheap produce of his native soil.


Nor less the lunar orb with prescient ray
Marks for each varying work th' appropriate day.
Avoid the fifth, it gave pale Orcus birth,
The Furies and nafarious brood of Earth,
Coeus, Iapetus, Typhoeus bold,
And the leagued brethren 'gainst the gods enroll'd;
Thrice their strain'd strength had Ossa on Pelion laid,
And heaved on Ossa all th' Olympian shade;
But Jove indignant as the structure grew,
Thrice, thund'ring, thrice the mountain mass o'erthrew.
Seventh from the tent, the hours propitious shine,
To weave, to tame the steer, and plant the vine:
Fair sheds the ninth the beam that favors flight,
While robbers dread the inauspicious light.


The night to many a work advantage yields,
Nor less the dawn that cools with dew the fields;
By night o'er arid meads the swathe pursue,
And mow the stubble moist with clammy dew.
While some keen peasant o'er his ember's light
Points the sharp torch thro' winter's ling'ring night,
The housewife sooths long labor by her song,
And shoots her rattling reed the loom along,
Seethes the sweet must, and with light foliage skims
The froth that bubbles o'er the caldron's brims.


But reap beneath the sun thy golden wheat,
And tread the ear in noontide's sultry heat.
Plough naked, naked sow, bleak winter's reign
Alone suspends the labors of the swain.
Then the gay hind unlocks his hoarded store,
Glad social feasts exchange, and jests the goblet o'er;
The genial time invites; th' elastic mind
Springs from its load, and leaves its cares behind;
As when the deep-stor'd ships their anchor cast,
And joyful seamen crown with flow'rs the mast.
Then store what olives oaks and bays supply,
And myrtle-berries stain'd with sanguine dye;
Then catch in toils the stags, then cranes ensnare,
Press round her tainted maze the list'ning hare;
Launch the whirl'd sling, and pierce the distant does,
When the clogg'd river freezes as it flows.


Why should I mark each storm, and starry sign,
When milder suns in Autumn swift decline?
Or what new cares await the vernal hour,
When Spring descends in many a driving show'r,
While bristle into ear the bearded plains,
And the green stalk distends its milky grains?


E'en in mid-harvest, while the jocund swain
Pluck'd from the brittle stalk the golden grain,
Oft have I seen the war of winds contend,
And prone on earth th' infuriate storm descend,
Waste far and wide, and, by the roots uptorn,
The heavy harvest sweep through ether borne,
As the light straw, and rapid stubble fly
In dark'ning whirlwinds round the wintry sky.
Column on column, clouds by tempest driven,
Sweep from the sea, and darken all the heaven:
Down rushes ether deluging with rain
The labors of the ox, and joyful grain;
The dikes o'erflow, the flooded channels roar,
Vexed ocean's foaming billows rock the shore:
The Thunderer, throned in clouds, with darkness crown'd,
Bares his red arm, and flashes lightnings round.
The beasts are fled: earth rocks from pole to pole,
Fear walks the world, and bows th' astonish'd soul:
Prone Athos flames, and, crush'd beneath the blow,
Jove rives with fiery bolt Ceraunia's brow:
The tempest darkens, blasts redoubled rave,
Smite the hoarse wood, and lash the howling wave.


Preventful of the storm, with prescient view
The monthly signs and nightly orbs pursue,
Whither cold Saturn's lingering star retires,
Or swift Cyllenius shifts his wandering fires.


But, chief, with frequent pray'r the gods implore,
And Ceres, chief, with annual feasts adore;
When Winter flies, and Spring new robes the ground,
When mild the wine, and lambkins gaily bound,
When sweet to slumber on the grass reclin'd
Where the thick foliage murmurs to the wind;
The sky her temple, and the turf her shrine,
Her pure libation honey, milk, and wine;
Let the long choir with shouting pomp proceed,
And thrice round teeming fields the victim lead:
Nor let a blade beneath the sickle fall
Till to their roofs the swains the goddess call;
Rude rustic carols to her praise resound,
And, wreath'd with oak, in untaught measures bound.


Jove bade unerring signs to earth foreshow
Rain, and fierce heat, and tempests swoln with snow;
And the moon warn when winds should rise or fall,
And cattle pasture near the sheltering stall.


Lo! to the gathering storm, amid the deep,
The troubled ocean swells its billowy sweep,
Loud rings the crash upon the mountain brow,
Or the far shores resounding howl below,
And hoarse and hoarser thickens in the gale
The ceaseless murmur of the woodland vale.
Huge billows threat the ship, when cormorants sweep
Along the shore, and screaming fly the deep,
When sea-coots hastening back with wanton wing
Skim round the beach in many a sportive ring,
And the lone hern his wonted moor forsakes,
And o'er the clouds his flight aërial takes.


Oft shalt thou see, ere brooding storms arise,
Star after star glide headlong down the skies,
And, where they shot, long trails of lingering light
Sweep far behind, and gild the shades of night;
Of the fall'n foliage wings its airy way,
And floating feathers on the water play.
When lightning flashes from the northern pole,
From east to west when thunders widely roll,
The deluge pours, and, fearful of the gale,
The wary seaman furls his dripping sail.
Not unforeseen the storm, th' aërial cranes
In the deep valley fly th' uprising rains;
The heifers gaze aloft where vapors sail,
And with wide nostril drink the distant gale;
The twittering swallow skims the pool around;
Along the marshes croaking frogs resound;
Ants, from roof'd cells bear out their eggs to day,
And wear, each following each, their narrow way.
The vast bow drinks; and, rustling on the wing,
From their wide plumes the rooks thick darkness fling.
Then shalt thou view the birds that haunt the main,
Or where Cayster floods the Asian plain,
Dash forth large drops that down their plumage glide,
Dance on the billows, dive beneath the tide,
In gay contention dip their wings in vain,
And prelude, as they sport, th' impending rain.
But o'er dry sands the crow stalks on alone,
Swells her full voice, and calls the tempest down.
Nor yet unconscious of the threatening gloom
The virgin labors o'er the nightly loom,
When sputtering lamps flash forth unsteady fire,
And round th' o'erloaded wick dull flames expire.


Nor less, 'mid show'rs, propitious signs display
Returning sunshine, and unclouded day;
Then 'mid refulgent stars the orb of night
Seems like a sun to shed unborrow'd light:
Then nor the rack across the ether driv'n,
Silvers with light-spun fleece the face of heav'n,
Nor halcyons, lov'd of Thetis, haunt the strand,
And to the sun their glittering plumes expand;
Nor swine the stubble toss: but dark and deep,
Low on the plain incumbent vapors sleep;
And the lone owl, that eyes the setting ray,
Pour from her tow'r in vain the nightly lay.
Lo! Nisus soars aloft through liquid air,
And claims sad vengeance for his purple hair:
Where with stretch'd wing swift Scylla cuts the skies,
Behind, on rustling plume, fierce Nisus flies;
And where swift Nisus tow'rs, her forward flight
Darts far away, and cleaves th' aërial height.
Hush'd their hoarse pipe, and pressed to clearer notes,
Rooks to redoubled echoes strain their throats;
Oft, wild with rapture, on the woodland height
Mingle the murmur of confused delight,
Sport in the foliage, and the storm at rest,
Revisit their young brood and blissful nest.


Not that I think their sense divinely giv'n,
Or prescience theirs, to mark the will of Heav'n:
But still through Nature's vast and varied range,
The air's vicissitudes, and season's change,
New instincts sway, and their inconstant mind
Shifts with the clouds, and varies with the wind:
Hence frisk the kine, mirth swells the woodland notes.
And rooks exulting strain their gurgling throats.


But if you watch the sun's revolving speed,
And moons, that moved in order'd course, succeed,
Then no vain signs shall mark the treacherous day,
Nor the fair night shall flatter and betray.
If, when the moon renews her refluent beam,
Through the dark air her horns obscurely gleam,
Along the wasted earth, and stormy main,
In torrents drives the congregated rain.
Or if with virgin blush young Cynthia blaze,
Tempestuous winds succeed the golden rays;
But if (unerring sign) the orb of night
Clear wheel through heav'n her fourth increasing light,
Rain nor rude blast shall vex that hallow'd day,
And thus the month shall glide serene away,
While rescued sailors on their native shore
With votive gifts the ocean gods adore.


Alike, with orient beams, or western rays,
The prescient sun each future change displays:
Signs, that can ne'er deceive, the sun attend
At day's first dawn, or when the stars ascend.


When many a spot his rising lustre shrouds,
Half hid the disk beneath a vale of clouds,
Beware the show'rs that from the south wind sprung
Foam the strown corn, and herds, and woods among.
If dull at morn with many a scatter'd beam
Through the dense clouds the rays diversely gleam,
Or if Aurora with dank mists o'erspread,
Leave with pale brow Tithonus' saffron bed,
Ill shall the leaf the ripening grapes surround,
While rattling hailstones from the roof rebound.


But most at sunset mark what tints prevail;
If dusky, dread the rain; if red, the gale:
If spots immingle streak'd with gleams of fire,
Rain and fierce wind to vex the world conspire:
On that dread night let none my sail allure,
Or my firm cable from the land unmoor.
But if the orb, at dawn that brightly rose,
With radiant beam its course of glory close,
The threatening clouds thy fear shall vainly move,
And the clear north shall rock the sounding grove.
Last, what late eve shall bring, what winds prevail,
And all that Auster plans with humid gale,
Behold the sun's prophetic signs display;
Who dares mistrust the god that gives the day?
He, too, with frequent portent deigns presage
Blind tumult, treasons, and intestine rage.
He, too, when Rome deplored her Caesar's fate,
Felt her deep woe, and mourn'd her hapless state;
While in dark clouds he veil'd his radiant light,
And impious mortals fear'd eternal night.
Nor less dread signals shook the earth and wave,
Birds of ill note, and dogs dire omens gave;
How oft we view'd, along th' expanse below,
Wide seas of fire down bursting Ætna flow,
While globes of flames the red volcano cast,
And molten rocks that blazed beneath the blast.
Germania heard all heav'n with battle bray,
Alps reel'd with all her mounts in strange dismay:
Shapes wondrous pale by night were seen to rove,
A voice terrific fill'd the silent grove:
The rivers stop, earth opes, and brutal herds,
Tremendous portents! utter human words.
The ivory weeps 'mid consecrated walls,
Sweat in big drops from brazen statues falls;
Monarch of rivers, raging far and wide,
Eridanus pours forth his torrent tide,
Down the wide deluge whirls th' uprooted wood,
And swells with herds and stalls th' incumber'd flood.
That time nor ceased the wells with blood to flow,
Nor spotted entrails ceased foreboding woe,
Nor ceased loud echoes nightly to repeat
The wolf's fierce howl along th' unpeopled street.
Such lightnings never fired th' unclouded air,
Nor comets trail'd so oft their blazing hair.
For this in equal arms Philippi view'd
Rome's kindred bands again in gore imbrued,
Nor did the gods repent that twice our host,
Broad Hæmus fed, and bathed th' Emathian coast.
There, after length of time, the peaceful swain
Who ploughs the turf that swells o'er armies slain,
Shall cast, half gnaw'd with rust, huge pikes in air,
And hollow helms that clash beneath the share,
And 'mid their yawning graves amazed behold
Large bones of warriors of gigantic mould.


Ye native gods! ye tutelary pow'rs
Of Tuscan Tiber, and the Roman tow'rs;
Deign, Romulus! maternal Vesta! deign:
Oh! let this youth a prostrate world sustain!
Enough, enough of blood already spilt
Sates vengeful gods for Troy's perfidious guilt.
Already envious heav'ns thee, Caesar, claim,
And earthly triumphs deem below thy fame;
Where, right and wrong in mad confusion hurl'd,
New crimes alarm, new battles thin the world:
None venerate the plough: waste Earth deplores
Her swains to slaughter dragg'd on distant shores:
Far, far they fall from their uncultured lands,
And scythes transform'd to falchions arm their hands:
There Parthia's hosts, Germania's here engage,
Near towns their treaties break, and battle wage:
Mars arms the globe. Thus, steed provoking steed,
Bursts from the bars, and maddens in his speed;
The guide each wearied sinew vainly strains,
On flies th' infuriate car, and mocks the starting reings.