The works of Publius Virgilius Maro translated by John Ogilby.

THE FIRST BOOK OF Virgil's GEORGICKS.

THE ARGUMENT.

What times are best to sow, what natures are Of differing grounds; what industrie and care. What hurts the corne, the Plowmans severall Rules: Who musters up innumerable tooles. Who first the world with th' art of tillage blest. Summer and winter Swaines must take no rest. Plowmen must learn the stars; which frost and snow, Fair and fowle weather, rain and winds foreshew, Clashing of Nobles, tumults, and of late Popular fury, and great Caesars fate.

WHat makes rich grounds (Mecaenas:) in what signs 'Tis best to plow, and marrie elms with vines: What care of sheep; with Cattel what agrees: And how much skill belongs to frugall bees; Now I shall sing. You glorious Lights, who bear In your swift motion round the sliding year:

Bacchus, blest Ceres, if from you we gain For poor Chaonian acorns, golden graine; And wine t' inrich our watery cups: and you Fauns, who to Swains your bounty still allow: Together Fauns, and virgin Dryades come; Your gifts I sing: and Neptune, thou to whom Earth trident-struck, brought forth a generous steed: And woods protector, thou, whose snowie breed Three hundred graze on Caeas fertile grounds, Pan, the flocks guardian, leaving native bounds And Lycian groves, if Maenalus thou prize, With Pallas come, who th' Olive did devise: And thou Inventor of the crooked Plow Silvanus, bearing a soft Cypres bough. All Gods our fields protect; and those who feed The tender grain, still cherishing our seed, And who from skies on corne, send plentious rain; Thou Caesar, whom what seat shall entertaine In Heaven's unknown: whether thou take the care Of Realms, and Cities, or the world declare Thee Lord of fruit, to whom the seasons bow, And with thy mothers myrtle wreath thy brow; Or rule vast waves, alone thy Deitie Sea-men adore, and farthest Thule obey: Or Thetys with the Ocean purchas'd thee: Or to slow moneths a new signe added be, Whom Libra, and Erigone may imbrace, Whilst burning Scorpio shrinks to give thee place: And doth his ampler part in heaven forsake. What ere thou'lt be (let not the Stygian Lake Accept thee Lord, nor have thou such desire: Although the Greeks Elyzium fields admire, Nor for her mother car d, sought Proserpine.) Grant a free course, and aid my bold design;

Pity the Ignorance of Swaines, with me, And to b•• invok'd with prayers accustom'd be.

When the warme spring dissolves the mountains snowes, And the fat soyle with West-winds softer growes, Then let my steers at plow to groan begin, And by the furrow my worne Coulter shine. The greedie Husbandman likes best that mold, Hath felt two summers, and two winters cold. That mans great harvest doth his Garners burst. But ere thou break the unknown fallow, first Observe the winds, and mark heavens various face, Old custome, and the nature of the place: What every soyle will bear, and what refuse: This corne, that vines, more kindly doth produce; Here, plants best thrive, and there rank herbage growes, Seest not how Safron Tmolus still bestowes? India sends Ivorie, sweet Sabea Gummes: From the nak'd Chalybs, steel; from Pontus comes The Bever stone, from Epire Mares for race; For nature hath impos'd on every place Eternall Laws, since first Deucalion hurl'd Stones to repair the populated world; Whence men a hard race, sprung. Therefore goe on, And thy rich soyl with the first warming sun Let thy strong Oxen turn, when Phoebus makes Long dayes, and humid clods with ardor bakes. If poor thy soyl, before Arcturus rise, To break a shallow furrow will suffice. Here lest the corn should harme from weeds receive, There, lest small moysture barren akers leave. And let thy furrow lie each year untill'd, And to grow hard with rest thy worne-out field:

Or where in season thou didst barely sow, And pleasant pulse, with dangling cods didst mow, Where brittle stalks of wofull Lupins stood, Or slender Veches like a whispering wood. The field, flax, otes, and sleepy Poppie, burns, But easie is the labour made by turns. Nor a drie soyle with rich marle spare to feed, And uncleans'd ashes on poor grounds to spread. So with chang'd seed, Swains rest give to the fields, And Land left fallow no less profit yields; From burning sterile plains oft plentie comes, And brittle stubble crackling fire consumes. Whether from this new force, and nourishment The Earth receives; or else all venome spent By fire: and forth superfluous moysture sweat: Or many dark hid breathings lax'd by heat, By which, fresh sap the springing corne sustaines, Or more condens'd it bindes the gaping veines. Lest soaking showrs, or Sols more potent beame, Or Boreas piercing cold should wither them; And much he helps his field, who barren mould Breaks, harrowes then; nor Ceres doth behold That Husband-man from the high heaven in vain, And who the gleab athwhart runs ore again, Turning his plow, and crossing breaks the soyle, Making the field obedient with his toyle. Swaines pray for winters faire, and summers wet; Winter dust, joyes the earth, and glads the wheat: Not Maesia then shall harvests boast like these, Nor Phrygian hils admire their own increase. What shall I say of those have sow'd their land? Then straight goes on, casts heaps of barren sand, And streams to's corne in flowing rivers turns: And when scorch'd fields with dying herbage burns,

From rising ground conducts a crystall lake; Which mongst smoth rocks doth gentle murmurs make, And bubling forth refresh the parched field. Or those lest too large ears the stalk should yield, The ranck corne, and soft stemme eat down again, When first it hides the earth; and those who draine, With thirstie sand the plashes in their ground, Most when in doubtfull moneths the floods abound, Whence slimie mud hath cover'd all the vale, Making the ditches a hot steam exhale. But yet (for all mens toyle and oxens paines, Skilfull in tillage) the Strymonian Cranes, Geese, and shade harme, or bitter Succorie. Nor was Jove pleas'd tillage should easie be: And first commands with art to plough the soyle, On mortall hearts imposing care, and toyle; Nor lets dull sloth benumb men where he reigns. Before Jove's time, no plowman tild the plaines, None mark'd out limits, or a meer set forth; But all in common: then the liberall earth Without compulsion brought each kinde of grain, He first black Serpents arm'd with deadly bane, Commands stern Wolves to prey, the Sea to swell, From leaves shakes honey, and did fire conceal: To wine then rivers gave a stricter bound, That severall arts by labour might be found, And men in furrows seek the grain that fell, And hidden fire from veins of flint compell. Then Alder-boats first swomme, then Mariners Gave names, and told the number of the stars: The Kids, the Pleiades, and the Northern Bear. Then birds they catch with Lime, and beasts in snare, And with their dogs, the mighty woods beset. This strikes broad rivers with his casting net;

At sea his humid lines another drawes: Then force of ir'n, and blades of grating sawes; (For first they wedges to soft wood did use) Then came strange arts, fierce labor all subdues. Inforc'd by bold Necessity, and Want, First, Ceres mortals taught the earth to plant: When mast, and acorns sacred groves suppli d, And Dodon's forrest nourishment denide. Then was more sweat for corne; lest mildews spoile The grain, and thistles over-run the soyle: The crop then failes, destructive weeds appear, Briers and burs suppress the golden ear: Then hapless Darnell, and wilde-oats command, Unless with rakes thou daily break thy land: Fright birds with noyse, and cut the shadie bowes Of thy dark ground, and call for rain with vowes. Thou shalt in vaine see others store increase, VVhen shaken okes thy hunger must appease.

The hardy Plowmans tooles we next must know; Which wanting, we can neither reap nor sow. A heavie plow of crooked oke; a share; And with flow wheeles th' Elusine mothers carre; Sledges and flailes, rakes, ponderous enough, Fine osier baskets, countrey housholdstuffe, Hurdles, and last, Jaccus mystick Van; All which, if th' art a carefull husband-man, Remember to provide, if the divne Glorie of tillage, thou intendest thine. Soone in the woods with mighty labour bow An Elme, and forme it to a crooked Plow. To this a Tceme beneath of eight foot cut; To th'double back two ears, and Dentals put: Of lofty Beech your Plowtaile: but the yoak, Let that be from the gentle Tyle tree tooke,

Which from behinde should the deep turnings guide, And oke with hanging in the chimney tride.

Here many ancient rules I could declare, Unlesse thou shun'st, and scorn'st so mean a care. With a great rowler first, thy Barne flore lay, Smooth'd with the hand, confirm'd with binding clay, Lest grass spring up, or it should dustie grow, Then many mischiefs chance; for oft below The little Mouse her store hath and abode: And the blinde Mole her bed; in holes the toade Is found; much vermine from the earth are borne, The Weezel plunders the great heap of corne, And the Ant fearing age and want to come. Observe when first the nut begins to bloome, Gracing the woods, bending the fragrant tree: If they exceed, such thy increase shall be, And with great heat a mighty harvest found; But if with swelling leaves the shades abound, Then thou shalt thrash a chassie stalk in vaine, I have seene many to anoynt their grain VVith Nyter first, then lees of oyse to spread, That husks deceitfull should have larger seed: Then with soft fire they swell the hasten'd graine, Seed long pick'd I have seen, and culd with pain, And yet degenerate; unless yearly we The largest choose. All things by destiny So hasten to grow worse and backward goes, As one against the stream his Vessel rowes, VVho if by chance his arme a little slack, The Bote in the swift channell hurries back; They observations from the stars should make, Mark rising Kids, and note the glittering Snake, As those who homewards through rough Pontus trade, And straights of narrow Hellespont assaid.

VVhen Libra in just ballances shall weigh Darkness with Light, and shadowes with the day, Then exercise your steers, and barely sow, Till too extream the cruell winter grow. Flax, Poppie then, cover with earth and plough VVhil'st the Clouds hang, and thirsty grounds allow. Beans sow in spring; then clave grass rich earth takes, And Millet then your annuall care awakes; VVhen Taurus golden horns open the year, And Syrius leaves to other stars the Sphear. But if for wheat and stronger corne thy ground Thou exercise, and but a crop propound; First, let the Easterne Pleiades goe down, And the bright star of Ariadnes Crowne: Commit dew-seed to furrowes then, and here Trust earth with hope of the insuing year. Would'st thou thy ground should vetch, and Fessels bear, Nor shalt despise AEgyptian Lentils care; Bootes fall no obscure signe will shew; Begin, and sowing to mid-winter sow. Wherefore the golden Sun in equall lines The great orbe governs, through the worlds twelve signs. Five Zones the heavens infold, one still is beat With scorching beams, torrid with mighty heat: On either hand th' extreams extend their track, Bound still with cruell ice, with tempests black: Between the midst, and these, two more there are, Which seats the Gods for mortals did prepare: Through both of these a passage doth divide, Through which the signs in oblique order glide. As to Ryphaean hils the world ascends, So to the South of Lybia down it bends: To us the Pole is elevated still, But Ghosts see them beneath, and dismall hell:

Here in huge bendings glides the winding Snake, And like a river doth Meanders make: Through both the Bears incireling them about, Who to be dipt in th'Oceans billows, doubt. Here, (as they say) either is lasting night, And gloomy shade for ever hindring light: Or else from us to them Aurora speeds Ushering the day: and when with panting steeds The Orient breathes on us; there purple night Ascending adds, late Tapers to the light. Hence from no doubtful signs we Seasons know, What time is best to Reap, and when to Sow, And when the faithless Sea we may again Row with tuff Oares, when venture to the Main An armed Fleet, or fell the lofty Pines. Nor vain we mark, setting, and rising signs, VVhich in four Seasons th'equal year divide. But if cold showrs force Swaines within to bide, Much work asks haste, which gainst the weather's fair Is to be done: to whet the blunted share, And of a tree to make a hollow bark, To measure Corn, or else their Sheep to mark; These sharpen Forks and Stakes, the tender Vine Others infold with bonds of Amarine: And some with Rubean twigs, neat baskets binde, Now dry their corn at fire, and then they grinde.

Some works on Holidayes are to be done: To draw out water, no Religion Nor Law forbids us; nor to hedge our Corne, And Snares to lay for Birds, to burne the Thorne, To wash the bleating Flocks in curing Floods. The driver of the slow Ass, often loads His back with Oyl, or Fruit, returning fetch From Town a Handmill, or black mass of Pitch.

The Moone grants severall dayes should be imploy'd Luckie for severall works: the fift, avoide: Hell, and the Furies then were borne; and Earth Gave mighty Typhon, and the Gyants birth Which covenanting Brethren thrice assay To pull down Heaven, Pelion on Ossa lay; On Ossa green Olympus to have thrown; Thrice Jove with thunder cast those mountaines down.

The seventeenth day is best to plant the Vine, Oxen to break, threads to the Web to joyn: The ninth is best for flight, and Bad for theeves. Cold night to many works perfection gives; Or at Sun rise, when fall the early dewes: Night, to mow Stubble, or dry Meadows, choose: For suppling moysture wants not in the night. Some by late fires will watch, and VVinter light, Sharpning a stake, mean while his task, though long His dear wife shortens with a pleasing Song; Running her sounding Shuttle through her Frame. Or she decots sweet Must with gentle flame; And scums with leaves froth from the boyling Pot. But blushing Ceres best at noon is cut; Amidst the heate, the dry corn thrashes best; Plow and sow, naked, Winter is for rest: Then Husbandmen injoy what they did gaine, And with glad seasts each other entertaine: The Geniall time invites, and frees from care. As wealthy ships, when mor'd within the Bar, The Saylors on the Sterns fresh Garlands set. But you may Mast, and Laurell berries get. VVith Oyl and bleeding Myrtle then, and snare Cranes by the feet, and nets for Bucks prepare, Cours timerous Hares, shoot fallow Dear, or swing VVith hempen whip, the Balearian sling,

VVhen Snow lies deep, when Ice the river bars.

VVhat shall I say of the Autumnall Stars, VVhen lesser heate gives day a swifter wing; VVhich must be watch'd; so must the floury Spring. Oft I have seen, when corne from golden lands Ready to house, just when the strawie bands Should binde the sheaves; in war the windes contend, And from the roote the yellow harvest rend, The tempest with so black a whirlwinde flew, And the light straw, and flying stubble blue. Oft from the skie a mighty deluge powres, And black storms muster with condensed showrs, Clouds from sea gather, the arch'd skies resound, And Oxens labour the rich corn is drown d. Then dikes are fill'd, and swelling waters raise Loud murmurs, and, seas rore in stormie baies. Then in the hideous night, Jupiter takes In's hand bright lightning, which discharging, shakes The mighty earth; beasts fly, and mortall hearts Base fear dejects. He, with his blazing darts Down Athes, Rhodope, or Ceraunia throws: South windes arise, blacker the tempest grows; Now woods complain with winde, and now the shore. This fearing know heaven stars, and signes, before: Where Melancholy Saturn doth retire, And through what Orbe wanders Cylenian fire. But first the gods adore; to Ceres yeeld Rites yearly, working in the gladsome field, VVhen the soft Spring rough Winter shall succeed Then wine grows mellow and Lambs begin to feed, Then sleep is pleasant, shades spread mountaines ore. Let all the jocund Swaines Ceres adore, Nor one presume sickles to thrust in corne, Till Oken wreathes, for her, his brows adorne,

Dance Country Measures, and like Verses sing.

VVhat most sure signs may to our knowledg bring Drowth, rain, and winde, which ushers in the cold, Jove hath decreed; what new Moons should unfold. When South windes rest, what Swaines so oft perceive When neerer to their stalls their herds they leave. Then straight with rising gusts the Ocean swells, And a loud Fragor heard in lofty hills: Or afar off shores sound with raging seas, And mighty murmurs in the woods increase. From tallest ships then bellows scarce refrain, When Cormorants with clamour from the maine Fly to the shore, and when the Sea-foul sports On the dry Strand, and from the Fen resorts; And mounting bove the lofty clouds the Herne.

Oft before windes thou shalt the stars discern, Shoot swiftly through the skie, and in the night To leave behinde a traine of blazing light, And often chaff to fly, and falling leaves With floting feathers, sport on bounding waves. But when it thunders from the cruel North, And when the East and Western winds draw forth: All dikes are fill'd, the Sailor at th'Alarms Strikes his wet sail, no storm the wise man harms? From which the soaring Crane to Valleys flies; Or else the Cow viewing the open skies, At her wide nostrils the perception takes. Or chattering Swallows fly about the Lakes; Or in the mud Frogs sing their old complaint. Oft through straight paths to secret roofs the Ant Conveies her Eggs; deep drinks the mighty bow: And from their foode in a great flight, the Crow Makes his retreat, and sounds his fanning wings. Various Sea-foul, with those haunt pleasant Springs,

And Asian Medows of Cayster use, Busie, their shoulders bathe, with sprinkling dews. Now under water thou mayst see them dive, And in their sportfull washing vainly strive; The wicked Crow, aloud then rain demands, And all alone stalks proudly on drie sands. Nor at Nocturnall wheeles the Maidens be Of stormes nnskilfull when they shining see The oyle to sparkle in the shining Lamp, And the hard snuff to make the light grow damp. Nor less may'st thou from storms fair weather learn, And long before by surest signes discerne: For then no star an obtuse beame displays, Nor is the Moon estrang'd from Phoebus rayes, Nor fine wool fleeces driven through the skie; Nor to warme Sun's ashore with spread wings lie Halcyon's belov'd of Thetis: nor loose straw, Foule Swine remenber in their mouthes to draw. But Clouds sink lower, and to Vales retreat: And from high roofes observing Phoebus set, The Owle in vaine, late notes doth exercise. Nisus appears, high in the Chrystall skies, And Scylla punisheth for the purple haire. Where ere she flying cuts the yielding aire, Nisus behold! her sterne foe through the skies, Sounding, persues: where through the Heaven he flies, On swift wings shuning through the Clouds she bends, Then oft the Crow her watery throat extends. Redoubling notes oft in their towrie nest: (With what unwonted joy I have not guest) Sport 'mongst the leaves, the storme past, glad to see Their ancient buildings, and fair Progenie. Nor think I Heaven on them such Knowledge states, Nor that their Prudence is above the Fates.

But when a tempest, and the fleeting rack Hath chang'd their course, and the moyst aire grows black With Southern windes, which thicken in the skies Thin vapours, and the grosser, rarifies; Their thoughts are chang d, the motions of their minde Inconstant are, like Clouds before the winde: Hence tis that birds chaunt forth melodious notes, The beasts are glad, and Crowes stretch joyfull throtes. If the swift Sun whose horses never swerve, And Moons in order following thou observe: Th'insuing day shall never thee deceive, Nor nights fair promises of hope bereave. When first the Moon renewing flame adorns; If a grosse aire, obscure her blunted horns, Great showres, for sea, and Husbandmen prepare: But if her face a Virgine blush declare, It shall be winde 'gainst winde she blusheth still. If the fourth day her Orbe with silver fill, (For that by long experience hath been tride) Nor with blunt horns through Chrystall Heaven shall glide: That day, and all that follow, you shall finde To the moneths end, free, both from raine and winde. To Milecert, Glaucus, Panapaea now Sailors preserv'd, from danger, pay their vow. Also true signes the Sun at rising shewes, And when he doth in Thetis lap repose, For the most certain on the Sun attend: Both in the morne, and when the stars ascend. When rising he with many spots growes pale. Drown'd in a Cloud, and half his Orbe doth vaile: Then storms expect, then Southwinds rise from sea, To trees, and corne, and Cattell, enemie. Or when amongst thick Clouds before the day Many refracted beams themselves dlsplay;

Or when forsaking Tythons saffron bed, Much paleness hath Auroras cheek ore-spread. Ah! then but ill, the vines defend their grapes, Such horrid haile on house tops ratling leaps. This to remember it will profit thee: When he high Heaven forsakes, (for oft we see Strange colours wandring in his visage, joyn'd) The duskie threatens rain, the fiery winde. But if the spots red slashes shall unfold, All vext with raine, and winde thou shalt behold. That night shall none perswade me to the sea, Nor yet advise, that I my anchor weigh. But when he gives, or takes the day again, His Orbe be clear, thou fear'st a showre in vain. Then thou mayst see soft gales to move the woods; What Vesper next, (whence winds drive empty clouds) What Auster plots, the Sun doth signifie, And who so bold to give the Sun the lye. Clandestine tumults, he doth oft foreshew, And open war, from secret plots to grow: He pitying Rome at Caesars funerals spread A mourning vaile, ore his illustrious head. The impious age then fear'd eternall night, Though in that time Earth and vast Amphytrite, Fierce Dogs, and cruell foule strange signs did yield; We, smoking AEtna ith' Cyclopian field Oft saw to rage, and from broke tunnels came Huge liquid stones, and mighty globes of flame. Germany heard from heaven a sound of armes, And the Alps trembled at unus'd alarms: A mighty voyce in silent groves was heard, And gastly spirits, wonderous pale, appear'd Before twas night: and beasts (o wondrous) spake; Swift rivers stand, and yauning earth did quake: Brasse in the Temples sweat: sad Ivorie weeps, High woods, Eridanus, King of rivers, sweeps;

And on the plaines with hostile billows falls, Bearing with him the cattell and their stalls. Nor then sad entrails threatnings ceast to shew, Nor through the channels putrid blood to flow; And then the populous Cities did resound With howling wolves, which walk'd their nightly round, Nor from cleer skies ever more lightning came, Nor such dire Comets oftener seen to flame. Again, Phillipi, Roman Squadrons saw With equall arms, for dreadfull battell draw. Twice with our blood the Gods did not disdain To inrich Aemus, and th' Aemathian pliane. Time comes, by Swians, when turning up their ground Eaten with rust, large Javelins shall be found: Or boysterous rakes, from emptie helms strike fire, And shall huge bones dig'd from their tombs admire. Great Vesta, Romulus, and our native Gods, Who lofty Rome preserve, and Tuscan floods. Ah for the Prince, at length your selves ingage, That he again repair this ruin'd Age. Long since enough we with our bloods did pay For sacrelegious perjuries of Troy. Caesar, long since Heavens court envi'de us thee, Griev'd thou shouldst pleas'd with mortall triumphs be. Wrong was turn'd right, and war through all the world, So many shapes of wickedness had hurl'd. To the scorn'd Plow, no man doth honour yield, Swains prest to arms, waste lies th' uncultur'd field: And crooked Sythes to swords transformed are. Euphrates here, there Germany makes war: The neighbouring Towns in Civill arms ingage, And impious Mars through all the world doth rage.

As when the Chariots starting from the bar Straight through the listed Champaine hurried are: The Charioteer is borne away, in vaine Checking their speed; who now contemn the reine.

THE SECOND BOOK OF Virgil's GEORGICKS.

THE ARGUMENT.

How trees by nature grow, some from the root, Some from the seed, some of themselves do sprout, As many wayes of Art experience grants. The Gardner graffs, inoculates, transplants, What fruitfull trees in severall Countries are; But none with happie Italie compare. How to discerne the goodness of each ground, Where choicest Olives and best Vines are found, What safty in the harmless Countrey lies: What dangers from rebellious Cities rise.

THus much of tillage, and the Planets sway, I'le thee now Bacchus, and wilde plants display, And the slow Olives race; father, draw neer, (All things are full of thy great bounty here) Thou pregnant fields deck'st with Autumnall vine, Till foming presses overflow with wine;

O Father come, and lay thy buskins by With me in Must then staine thy naked thigh.

Trees in their growth of different natures are, Some spring themselves, unforc'd by humane care, As in the fields where winding rivers flow, The gentle Broom, Poplar, and Sallow grow, And Willowes with fresh branches flourishing. Some from their seed being set, as Chestnuts spring, And Joves great Aesculus which all groves excel'd, And Okes which Grecians still oraculous held. In mighty Groves some spring from their own root, So Cheries, Elms, Parnassian Laurell, shoot: Which small in great shade of their mother rise. These waies first nature gave: by these all trees In Orchards, woods, and sacred Forrests grow: Others there are, which use and custome shew. Here, from the tender Parent, this man gets The sprouting twigs, and in a furrow sets. There in the earth, another covers stocks Of ancient trees, pales, posts, and cloven blocks; Some trees require their boughes be set archwise, And make their own soile, living nurseries. Some need no root, nor doth the Gardner doubt, That sprigs set in the ground shall timely sprout. And wondrous to be told, the Olive root From a drie stick, cut at the end will shoote. And oft without impairing, we may see The boughes of one, chang'd to another tree, And Pears from grafted Apples for to spread, And stonie Cornell, with ripe plums wax red. Therefore O Husbandmen, the best means trie T'improve wilde fruit, lest waste your Orchards lye. To plant the vine in Ismare we are glad, And that Taburnus verdant Olives clad.

Help, O Mecaenass and this work review, My glory and my chief fame, springs from you; Swell thou my saile, now venturing to the main, Nor all things would I in my verse containe; Had I hundred mouthes, a hundred tongues, A voyce of steele; help me to coast along; The taske is easie; nor I'le thee detaine With dull descriptions, nor fables vaine.

Those trees which of themselves are fostered, Unfruitfull be, but strong, and fair they spread: Because they draw their nature from the soyle; But these, if any sow, or shall with toyle Transplant, and then in cultur'd orchards set; Their wilder disposition they forget: VVith often pruning then not slowly will Answerthy labour, and obey thy skill; So those which spring sroom roots like profit yield, If you transplant them to the open field, These, boughs before aad parent-branches shade, VVhich stops their growth, and makes the bodie fade. Plants which from seed arise of slow growth are, And shades for our posterity prepare; Apples grow wilde, and loose their former taste, And Vines harsh clusters bear for birds to waste, All labour aske, and covering in rich soyle; And must be conquer'd, with much art and toyle. Th' Olive from trunks, vines prosper best from stocks, And Paphian Myrtle springs from solid okes; Tall Ash, and Hazel, best from Sciens takes, And Poplar which Herculean Garlands makes: So Joves Chaonian oke, and high Palms grow, And Fir which must the Sailors fortune know, Arbuts from Nuts, the sterile Plane tree bears Best Apples, Chestnuts, Beech; blossoms of Pears.

The wilde Ash silvers with a snowie flower, And under Elms rough Swine the mast devoure.

T' inoculate, and graffe, are severall arts: For where the bud shoots from the tender parts, And breaks the geutle Filme, just, where they binde; They make an orifice in the knottie rinde; Imprisoning there, the sprig of th' other tree; And with moyst bark they teach them to agree. Or else the knotless trunk they cut again, And with a wedge deep wound the solid grain. After the slip so valued, there inclose, Nor longs the time, when sprouts with fruitfull boughes A mighty tree to heaven, at leaves unknown Admiring, and strange Apples not her own. Nor of one kinde strong Elins, and Sallowes be, The Lotus, nor th' Id••an Cypres tree; Nor in one manner the rich Olive comes, Orchites, and Radies, and sour Pausian plums, Alciuous apples, nor such branches bear Wardens, Crustumians, and the Syrian pear; Nor the same Vintages our clusters grant, Which Lesbos hath, from the Methymnean plant, Thasians there are, and silver Mareots, these Fat grounds affect, and those the lighter please; And Pscithian grapes best dride; Legeos strong, Which soon will trie your feet, and tie your tongue; Purple, and early grapes there are. VVhat verse You Rhetick Vineyards shall your praise rehearse? But yet contend not with Falernian vine, There are Aminian grapes, a most sound wine; Tmolus to this, and King Phanaeus give, And less Argitis homage; none will strive With this to fill the Press, with cheering juice, Nor last so many years, and fit for use:

Nor Rhodian gracing Feasts, and rites, shall scape, Nor the Bumaste, that so swelling grape; Their names, and kinds innumerable are, Nor for their catologue we need not care, Which who would know, as soone may count the sands, The westerne winds, raise on the Lybian strands, Or when East-windes at sea more violent rore, Reckon Aeonian waves, which rowle to shore. All grounds not all things bear; the Alder tree Growes in thick Fens, with Sallows brooks agree, Ash craggie Mountains, shores sweet Myrtle fils, And lastly Bacchus loves the sunnie hils: The Yew best prospers in the North, and cold. The conquer'd worlds remotest Swains behold, Where Arabs painted Gelonie are found; Each Land shewes severall plants; the Indian ground Bears Ebonie, Sabea, Frankincense. What shall I say to thee sweet wood? from whence Balsame destills, and beries ever green Of bright Acanthus? How shall I begin Of trees in Aethiopia, white with woll? Where from the leaves the Natives fleeces cull: Or of those groves in utmost India bred, Neer the worlds border, whose aspiring head, No arrow could by Archers skill surmount; And yet good Bowmen we those men account. Media brings wholsome apples of harsh juice, Gainst step-dames poyson nothing more in use: When banefull hearbs they mix with deadly charmes, This helps, and vitall spirits 'gainst venome arms. This mighty tree, Laurell resembles well, But that it casts abroad another smell; No windes offend the leaves, the flowers indure: With this, their tainted breaths the Medians cure,

And it to old mens Tysicks medcine yields. But Median groves, nor all those plentious fields, Nor India, Ganges Hermes full of gold, May strive with Italie, nor Bactrians bold, Nor great Panchaia, rich with Frankincense. This place no Buls whose nostrils fire dispense Have til'd, to set the teeth of Dragons there, Nor did it crops of Spears, and Helmets bear. But lushious fruit, and rich wine fill the Press, And Olive plants, and joyfull herds possess. Here warlick Steeds trot proudly through the fields, This snowie flocks, and Buls prime offerings yields; VVhich bath'd Clitumnus in thy sacred floods, Romes tryumphs draw, to Temples of the Gods. A lasting Spring, and summer all the year; Our flocks twice teeme, our plants twice apples bear, This no fierce Tygers, nor sterne Lyons breeds, Nor Symplers here deceiv'd with poysonous weeds. Nor scalie Dragon quarters in this soyle, Wreathing himself to a prodigeous pile. To these so many famous Cities adde, works of great care, with art, cost, labor, made; So many seats cut from the quarries side, Ʋnder whose ancient wals sweet rivers glide. VVhat shall I say of both those Seas which lave Our Coasts? or of those many Lakes we have? Or speak of thee great Laris, and thy waves Benacus, which so like the Ocean raves? Or Ports, or Lucrine Sluces shall I sing? VVhose raging floods with mighty murmur ring. Where Julian streams thunder in troubled seas, And Tyrrhen waters fill th' Avernian bayes. Here we have silver rivers, brazen Mines, And with much gold this happy Country shines;

Here a bold race, the valiant Marsians are, Stout Sabels. and Ligurii us'd to war; The long spear'd Volscii, Decii, Marii, hence, And the Camilli draw their old descents. This the bold Scipios and thee Caesar bore; Who Conqueror now in utmost Asias shore, Driv'st from the Roman Towers, th' unwarlick Bands Of India. Haile great Saturnian Lands, Parent of fruit, and men of noble parts: To undertake thy ancient fame, and Arts, Boldly I'le open now, the sacred Spring, And through Rome's seats, Ascraean verses sing,

Now severall kinds of ground we must declare, Their colour, strength, and what they willing bear; And first your harder soyle, and barren hils, Where stone and thin clay, mix'd in shrubbie fields, Fresh Groves of living Olives, these rejoyce; And by wilde Olives of that Land make choice: And where soure Beries through the Country spread. But a rich ground, with pleasant moysture fed, Where store of grass, and verdant champains be, Such as in wanton vales we use to see; VVhere Rivers from the lofty Rock descend, VVith fruitfull mud, and to the Southward bend, Nourishing Ferne, which so much hurts the Plow: Here, for thee Bacchus strongest wine shall grow To swell the Press; this the rich Grape shall bear, Such as in Gold for offerings we prepare; When the swolne Tuskans on their Cornets play, And we on Altars smoking entrals lay. But if thou herds, and Steers delight to keep; Or Goats that burne the corne, or fleecy sheep;

Seek pleasant Groves, and rich Tarentum's Coast, And plaines which wofull Mantua hath lost. VVhere silver Swans neer flourie Rivers plant, VVhere Crystall Springs, nor grass the Cattel want. How much thy herds eat in the longest day, So much cold dews in the short night repay. Black grounds which under heavie Plowes are rich, A brittle soyle (for tillage makes it such) Is best for corne; upon no ground appears More Carrs returning home with wearie Steers; Or where the angrie Swaine cuts down a wood, And fruitless Groves which many years had stood, And by the roots, Birds ancient seats o rethrew, Who to the skies their nests forsaken, flew. But a rough Champaine soone improves with toyle; For hungrie grounds, and a rough stonie soyle, Scarce bees with Cassia, and sweet dew supplie. In whose dark hollow Rocks, foul Serpents lie: No Land they say with better choice is stor'd Of food for Snakes nor better nests afford. That Earth exhales thin Clouds, and flying mists; And moysture drinks, repaying when it lists; Which alwayes her own verdant Liverie wears, Nor hurts with coomings, and foule rust the shares, Where Elms with joyfull vine are interwove, Where Olives grow; that soyle you may approve, Both for your Cattell, and the heavie Plow. For they such plaines nee'r wealthie Capua sow: And those which border nigh Vesuvius heights; And Clanius who, oft poor Acerra frights.

I'le teach thee now moulds differing to discerne; That what's too thick, or looser thou mayst learn. Since one, corne best affects, the other Vines; To Ceres ••••••ick, to Bacchus thin inclines.

First with great diligence let a place be found; There let a pit be made, deep in the ground; This done, cast in the thrown-out mould again, And with thy feet tread the whole surface plaine. If there want Earth, tis loose; that most inclines Cattell to feed, and cherish prospering Vines. But if t' its bounds, 'twill not be brought again, And the pit fil'd, some earth shall yet remain, That soyle is thick: plough with thy sturdy yoak, There the hard glebe, let that tough soyle be broke. Land that is salt, and which we bitter finde, Is bad for fruit, to tillage not inclin'd; All plants shall here degenerate, and the vine Looseth the name, and this shall be the signe. From smokie roofes, an Osier basket take, And such a strainer as for wine they make: There Earth with streams drawn from a Crystall Spout Commix; and all the water will run out, And in great drops shall through the strainer flow, But soon the taste will clear distinction shew; And straight thou may'st with bitterness espie, The tasters mouth displeas'd, be drawn awrie. And lastly we thus rich soyle understand, It will not moulder kneading in your hand; But to your fingers it will cling like pitch. Moyst ground hath weeds, and that which is too rich. Ah! Let not mine too fertile prove, nor bear Upon a heavie stalke a ponderous ear. Mould that is sad, that, silently by weight It self betrayes; and so we finde what's light. Black, and all colours, straight our eyes discerne. But cursed cold, is wonderous hard to learn. Yet sometimes pitchy Firr, and fatall Yew, Or winding Ivie will sad tokens shew.

This known with care, thy earth plough long before, And raise the ridges of thy Furrows more: And let thy turn'd up Gleab sterne Boreas face, Before thou set the vines rejoycing race. Brittle is best, which winde and frost indure; And rustick Swaines with turning oft manure. But those men who no care, or labour flie, Choose places fit both for a Nursery, And where they may transplanted after grow: Lest they their mother suddain chang'd not know. Also Heavens quarters on they bark the score, That they may coast it, as it was before: Which Southern heat sustains, which viewd the Pole, Such strength hath custome in each tender soule.

First know, if hils or dales best please the grape, Wouldst thou the plenty of rich vineyards reap. Sow the vale thick, then will thy press abound; But if it hillie be, and rising ground, Set thin thy ranks, nor less in every tract, Range ordered vines the walks drawn out exact.

As when a mighty battel's to be fought; Up to the front the ordered files are brought, Troups hide the fields; and ready for alarms, All the vast Champain shines, with glittering arms; Before in horrid fight the battell joynes, And doutbfull Mars, to neither part inclines.

So let thy ranks in even number grow. Not that vain fancie should be fed with shew; But else th' earth grants not equall nourishment; Nor can their branches have their full extent.

Perhaps how deep to furrow thou would'st know. In shallow trenches I my vines dare sow. But the huge Aesculus, that mighty tree Must in earths bosome deeply fixed be:

How much to Heaven her spreading branches shoot, So much towards hell extend her fixed root. Therefore not her, showrs with huge tempests mix'd, Nor cruell winter harms, but remains fix'd, And many years and ages she indures, Of short-liv'd man; whom her own strength secures. Tall branches guard her, and huge bowes displaid Protect her round with her own mighty shade. Nor make thy vineyard where the Sun declines; Nor plant rough hazels mongst the tender vines, Nor pull the lofty branches, nor impaire The sprouting bows; for great must be thy care: Nor rustie pruners harme, the hopefull seed, Nor let wilde Olives in thy vineyard breed. Mongst careless Swains oft happens fire: which first Under the sappie rinde is closely nurst: Then by degrees to the high branches flies And spreading sends loud fragor to the skies: A victor straight from bough to bough aspires; And the Crown seis'd, involveth all with fires. To Heaven black clouds and pitchy mists are sent, And dismall vapours scale the firmament. But more if from the North atempest rise; And in the groves winde makes the flame increase. This happens, then their stocks decatd, no more Sprout fresh again, nor flourish as before: Nor from the earth like nourishment receives: But curst wilde Olives grow, with bitter leaves.

Let none how ever skilfull, thee advise To turne hard grounds, when Northern winds arise. Winter binds earth with frost, nor grants the seed To take firme root, nor tender plants to feed.

Then set thy vines, when the white bird appears In blushing spring, which the long Serpent fears:

Or in first Autums cold, before the sun Hath cool'd his steeds in winter, summer don. Spring cloaths the woods with leaves, and groves attires, Earth swels with spring, and genitall seed requires. In fruitfull showrs th' Almighty from above Descends ith' lap, of his delighted love: And great, he with the mighty body joyn'd, Both propagates, and fosters every kinde. Harmonious birds then sing in every grove, And cattell taste the sweet delights of love. Earth blest, now teems: soft winds dissolve the Meads, With cheering warmth through all sweet moysture spreads. To the new sun, the tender herbage dare Open their leaves, nor vines rough Auster fear: Nor thundering Boreas ushering dreadfull showrs; But all things bud with blossome, leaf and flowers.

Sure I believe, when first the world was made, So shone the day; and such bright conduct had. That was the Spring; the Spring made all things fair, And blustering Eurus did cold tempests spare. Then cattell breed: in unplow'd fields began First to appear, that iron race of man: VVilde beasts possest the wood, and Heaven the stars.

Nor tender creatures could indure such cares; If not those breathings were twixt heat, and cold, And Heavens indulgence did the earth uphold.

VVhat ever plant thou in the earth dost set, First dung it well, and deeply cover it. Let shels, and limestones guard it with a paile: That streams may glide betwixt, and may exhale A gentle vapour, that may cheer the plant.

Some stones, and potshcards use to lay upon't:

Which a defence gainst rising tempests yield, And when hot Syrius chops the parched field.

Thy plants being set, next often draw the mold About the roots; to break the clods be bold: And with a thwarting Plow turn cross thy ground: And let thy labouring steers thy vines surround. Then take smooth reeds, and wands, and sticks prepare, With ashen poles, and stakes that pointed are. Supported thus, the winds they will contemn, And boldly climbe the high Elms tallest stemme. But whil'st in tender Infancy they are, Sprouting new leaves, the gentle offspring spare: Nor when the verdant branches do arise, And with loose reins are posting to the skies: Use not thy sharper knife, but gently pull Th' ambitious bowes, and haughty branches cull. But when grown strong th'imbrace the blms high top, Then shave their locks, and dangling tresses crop: Before they fear'd the knife; more rigorous now Use thy commands, upon the stubborn bough. And from all cattell strongly them immare, Whil'st the soft bows disturbance not indure. T' whom Cowes, and Goats, and Sheep more harme have done, Then freezing winter, and the scorching Sun: Cold not so much, nor white congealing frosts, Nor vexing beams, which beat on sandie coasts, As cattell harme, when with a venom'd tooth They wound the branches, in their tender youth.

Only for this crime we on Altars pay, Bacchus a Goat, and act the ancient play. Then from great villages Athenians hast And where the high-wayes meet the prise is plac'd. They to soft meads, heighten'd with wine, advance: And joyfully mongst oyled bottels dance.

Th' Asonian race, and those from Troy did spring, Dissolv'd with laughter rustick verses sing: In Visards of rough bark conceal their face, And with glad numbers thee great Bacchus grace: Hanging soft pictures on thy lofty pine. Then vineyards swell, pregnant with cheering wine, The shadie Groves, and the deep vales oreflow, Where e're the God shews his illustrious brow. To Bacchus then, let us due praises sing In ancient verse; wafers, and Javelins bring. A sacred Goat to th' Altars draw by th'horne; On Hazell spits then the fat entrails turn.

But other toyles in dressing vines are found, And nere enough: three or foure times thy ground Turn yearly, and with forks reverst, the clods Constantly break: and cleanse from leaves the woods. Labour returns in circle to the Swaine, And years revolve in their own steps again.

But when thy vineyard her last leaves removes, And cold North-winds dispoyle the glorious Groves; Then the industrious Husbandman takes care T'extend his labour-to th' insuing year; To lop the vine which hitherto escapes, And with old Saturns hook, he pruning shapes. First dig thy ground, and shreads and refuse burne, And under roofs the poles, and stakes return. Gather your vintage last; vines twice have shade, And twice the corne thick briers, and weeds invade. Both toyles are painfull: a large Farme commend: A little, till. Thorns that to woods extend, And reeds, which clog the banks, to cut prepare: And on wilde Sallow take especiall care.

The vines are bound, pruners no more they want, And round the empty walls the Gardners chant. Yet still must labour be, and toyle in dust, And grapes being ripe, a tempest they mistrust.

On th'other side; Olives you may neglect, They need no care, nor crooked Sythes expect, Nor the tenacious Rake: once set, they rise Shooting luxurious branches to the skies. Those grounds supply, turn'd with the crooked Plow Moysture enough, and large increase allow. Th' Embleme of Peace, thus the rich Olive growes. So Apples when they feel extending boughes, And growing strength, suddaine the stars invade, By their own vertue, scorning humane aid.

Nor less with fruit are laden every bush. And wilder Forrests with red beries blush, There shrubs are cut, and Firr in tall woods breed Nocturnall fires, and Torches thence proceed. And shall men doubt to plant and carefull be? Why urge I these? Broome and the Sallow tree. Or feed the sheep, or else the shepherd shade Yield honey, or for corne are hedges made.

What pleasure is t to view Cytorus, rich With waving Box, and groves of Marick pitch. How am I pleas'd to see those fields that are, Glorious undrest, nor us'd to humane care! Those barren trees high Caucasus do crown, Which storms oft tears, and often tumble down, Are of great use: There Pines for Masts are feld, And Cypres, and tall Cedars towres to build: Here coverings for their Cars, and spoaks for wheels, Husbandmen get, and ships finde crooked keeles. Sallowes have boughes, the tall Elms leavie are, Myrtle for Spears, and Cornell fit for war,

And Yewes are bent into Ityrian bowes: Smooth Tile and Box the skilfull Turner knowes How to compleat, and with his tooles to trimme, And down the Poe in rough streams Alders swimme. In rugged bark the bees conceal their stocks, And hoard in hollow wombs of ancient okes. Can Bacchus blessing like to these dispense? 'Twas Bacchus first proud quarrels did commence. He in cold death did those hot Centaurs tame, Hylaeus, Rhetus, Polus, overcame: As threatning Lapiths he a Goblet threw. Oh happie Swaines if their own good they knew, To whom just Earth remote from cruel wars From her full breasts soft nourishment prepares: Although from high roofes through proud Arches come No floods of Clients early from each roome; Nor Marble pillars seek which bright shels grace, Gold-woven vestments, nor Chorinthian brasse; Nor white wool stain'd in the Assyrian juice, Nor simple oyle corrupt with Cassias use: But rest secure, a fraudless life in peace, Variously rich in their large Farmes at ease; Tempe's coole shades, dark Caves, and purling streams, Lowings of Cattell, under trees soft dreams, Nor lack they woods, and dens, where wilde beasts haunt, Youth in toyle patient. and inur'd to want. Their Gods and parents sacred; Justice tooke, Through those her last steps when she Earth forsook. Let the sweet Muses most of me approve, VVhose Priest I am, struck with almighty Love. They shall to me Heavens starrie tracts make known; And strange Eclipses of the Sun and Moon. Thence Earthquakes are, why the swolne Ocean beats Over his banks, and then again retreats:

Why Winter Suns hast so to touch the maine, And what delayes the tardie night restraine.

But if these gifts of Nature I not finde, And a cold blood beleaguereth my minde. Then I'le delight in vales, nere pleasant floods, And unrenown'd, haunt rivers, hils, and woods; Thy banks sweet Sperchius, and Taygeta, where The Grecian virgins stately feasts prepare. How shall I be to Haemus vale convaid, And crown my temples with a mighty shade? Happie is he that hidden causes knowes, And bold all shapes of danger dares oppose: Trampling beneath his feet the cruell Fates, Whom Death, nor swallowing Acheron amates. And he is blest who knowes our Countrey Gods; Pan, old Sylvanus, and the Nymphs aboads: He fears not Scepters, nor aspiring States, Nor treacherous brethren stirring up debates: Nor Dacians Covenant, at Isters streams: Nor Romes affaires, and nigh destroyed Realms, Or poor men pities, or the rich envies. What nourishment the bounteous field supplies, What trees allow, he takes: nor ever saw Mad Parliaments, Acts of Commons, nor sword-Law; Some vex the Sea, and some to war resorts, Attend on Kings, and waite in Princes Courts. This would his Countrey, and his God betray To drink in Jems, and on proud scarlet lye. This hides his wealth, and broods on hidden gold, This loves to plead, and that to be extold Through all the seats of Commons, and the sires. To bathe in's brothers blood this man desires. Some banish'd, must their native seats exchange, And Countries, under other Climates range.

The Husbandman turns up his fruitfull plaines; Whence he, his children, and poore house sustains, His heards, and labouring steers: no rest is found, Either his trees with blushing fruit abound, His folds with Lambs, or else his stacks with corne: Or plenty loads his field, or cracks his barne. In winter he Sycanian Olives mils, And the fat swine, with mast and akorns fils. All sorts of fruit in plentious Autumne falls, And milder vines grow ripe on sunnie walls. Whil'st 'bout his neck his prettie Children cling, His chaste house modest: home his heifers bring Extended teats: in meads his fat Kids rest, And with their horns in wanton sport contest. He keeps the festive dayes on grass layd down, And friends about the fire the Goblets crown. Bacchus implor'd, then for his Hinds sticks fast A prize; at which, they nimble Javelins cast; Stripping their hardned limbs for rustick strife.

Of old this was the ancient Sabins life, Rhemus, and Romulus, and Tuscans fierce: And Rome great mistresse of the Universe, Who seven proud hils then did with wals surround, Before Dictaean Jupiter was crown'd, Or Sounding Trumpers heard, or any made Ring on hard anviles the imposed blade.

But we have past now through a spacious plaine, And now's high time our smoking steeds t'unrein.

THE THIRD BOOK OF Virgil's GEORGICKS.

THE ARGUMENT.

How to choose Cattell, and best wayes to breed. To traine a Horse, for labour, war, or speed. The power of Love: whose fire consumes the Males, Makes Buls to fight, and Mares court Westerne gales. Of Sheep and Goats: of milk what profit's made, Of haire and wool, which drive a mighty trade. Of Dogs for hunting, or a watchfull Guard, Serpents and Flies from Beasts must be debar'd. With what diseases Cattell are annoyd, How rots and murrains have whole Realms destroyd.

GReat Pales, and th' Amphrisian Swain renown'd, Lycaean streams, and woods, I'le now resound. All things that took up idle mindes are shewn; For who hath not cruell Eurystheus known? And bloody altars fierce Busiris reard, Or not of Hylas, or of Delos heard?

Of swift Hypodame and Pelops fam'd For's ivorie shoulders, who proud horses tam'd: To raise my self a way must now be found, That through all Nations I may be renown'd.

First to my Countrey (if I live) I will Conveigh the Muses from th' Aeonian hill; And Idumean palmes to Mantua bear: Then in green fields a Marble temple rear, Where ••••e great Mincius slowlie winding glides, And borders with a tender reed his sides.

Amidst the fane, shall Caesars statue be, Who shall in purple me triumphing see, Driving a hundred Chariots to the floods, Leaving Alpheus, and Molorchian woods: All Greece shall strive with whirlbats and the race, And offering Olive leaves, my browes shall grace. How it delights to see the solemn traine, March to the Temples and the bullocks slaine! Or as the sceane, with fronts rever'st shall shift, And painted Brittans purple hangings lift. There, I'le in gold and ivorie draw th' alarmes Of India, and conquering Caesars armes; And huge Nile swelling both with waves, and war. On brazen beams I'le navall trophies rear. Next conquer'd Asia and Niphates show, And Parthians flying, bold to use their bow. In Parian Marble, and respiring brass, Shall stand the statues of the Dardan race; And all their titles, who from high Jove came; Old Tros, and Phoebus, who did Ilium frame. Let cursed Envie at the Furies shake, And tremble at the dreadfull Stygian Lake, And at Ixions twisted Serpents grone, His racking wheel, and never resting stone.

Meane while let us seek Groves, where Sylvane Gods, Their dwellings have, and search untracted woods, Your hard commands Maecenas to persue. Our muse no lofty flight takes, wanting you. Ah quickly come, nor make delay at all, For now Cytheron with loud voyce doth call. Horse-taming Epire, and Tagetian hounds, And woods the clamor echoing resounds; Next I shall Caesars mighty wars proclaim, And through as many years extend his fame: As hath been since bright Phoebus did adorne The world with light, till thou great Prince wert borne.

Who ere Olympick games admiring steeds, Or for the Plow his sturdie bullocks, breeds, To choose well bodied femals must have care; Of the best shape the sowr-look'd heifers are, Her head great, thick her neck and to her thigh Down from her chin, her dewlaps dangling lie. Longsided, all parts large, whom great feet bears, And under crooked horns her brisly ears. Those best I like whom spots of white adorne, Or shun the yoake, oft butting with the horne, The whole Cow faire and visag'd like the male Sweeping the ground with her long bushie taile. The fourth year past, Lucina they implore, And after ten tast joyes of love no more. Their strength to plow, or procreate then failes: Whil'st wanton youth thy herds boast, free thy males, Thy flocks whil'st they are young to Venus bring, That from the old new progenies may spring. The best dayes first from mortall wretches flye, Disease, sad age, labour, and death supply: But alwayes there are some, which rather you VVould wish to change; then still your breed renew;

Lest thou for lost things seek, begin before, And let a yearly race supply thy store.

Nor choosing horse from the like precepts swerve, Those thou intend'st must their great stock preserve, They at the first thy speciall care require: For the fair issue of the generous sire, Walks proudly round about the spacious field; Whilst his soft thighs in supple flexures yield. First dares the way, and threatning rivers, take; And ore an unknown bridge, at full speed make; Nor fears vain founds, one hath a lofty neck, A hand some head, short belly, and broad back: Luxuriant swellings on his valiant brest, VVhite, sorrill, worst; Bay, or bright grey is best. But when from far a sound of arms he hears, He knowes no stand, he shakes, and pricks his ears, And fierce to charge, fire from his nostrils flies; And his thick maine on his right shoulder lies. His back-bone broad, he beats the earth, and proofe VVith thundring strokes makes off his solid hoof.

Such was swift Cylarus, whom bold Pollux tam'd, Mars and Achilles Charriot horses, fam'd Mongst Grecian Poets; Saturn chang'd, had such A flowing a maine, and at his wives approach Flying high Pelion, thunders with his neighs. But when diseases shall his body craze, And struck in years his sinews weaker are; Keep him at home, his age not sordid spare. Aged they coldly Venus entertain, And the ingratefull work prolong in vain; And if to joyne loves battell they ingage, Like fire in straw, they vainly spend their rage. Therefore their years and courage chiefly learn, Next, other qualities, and breed discerne.

Beat, how they grieve, how joyfull when they win. VVhen through the fields they flie, hast thou not seen How they swift Charriots hurrie to the bar? Twixt hope and fear mens hearts distracted are; They ply the whip, and bending give the reine, The burning axe flies thundering through the plain; Now low they are, now up they seem to rise, And easie air dividing, scale the skies: Nor the lest breathing use, nor make delayes, But a dark cloud of duskie sand they raise, VVith faom, and followers breath bedew'd they are, So love they praise, of conquest so much care.

First Erycthonius Chariot-horses joyn'd, And on swift wheeles triumphing dar'd the wind. Lapithes first the art of riding found, And horsemen taught t' insult ore trampled ground, Arm'd cap-a-pe, and thick proud steps to use, Both task's alike; and skilfull riders choose One young as well as swift, and fierce for fight. Though he hath often put the foe to flight; And Epire, or Mycene his Countrey call, Or boast from Neptune his originall. This being known, take thou especiall care, To feed them high when they must serve the Marc, Whom for the Stud a Lord they have decreed, They give sweet grass, clear streams, and strongest bread, Lest strength they want, loves task to undergoe, And their Si••es f••iling a poor offspring shew.

But carefully they make the female leane; And when known lust provokes to Venus, then They keep from food, and drive them from the streams, And often chase and tire in Phoebus beams, When with thrash'd corne the beaten barneflore's grone; And the light chaffe by Western winds is blown.

These Arts they use, lest that the field of love, By too much wanton rankness barren prove, And oylie fatness make the furrowes thin, But greedie take the seed, and keep it in.

The Sires care past, now is the Dams begun, When neere their time, with rekcon'd monchts they' ave gone, To draw a laden carr let no man force, Or to leap ditches, or in speedie course Run through the meads, or in swift floods to swimme, But feed in large groves, neer some pleasant stream, Where banks with moss, and verdant grass araid, Shelter'd with caves, and with a rockie shade.

A Fly about the Groves of Silarus haunts, And high Alburnus, green with stately plants, Asylus cal'd by Romans, but the same The Greeks stile Aestron by an ancient name; Loud-sounding, fierce, from which affrighted, flie The herds, and with loud bellowing shake the skie, And Groves, and thirstie Tangerus banks. Heavens queen This Monster sent to wreak her deadly spleen On Io then transform'd into a Cow. This (for 'tis worst when hotter it doth grow) Beat from thy herds, and feed the pregnant Mares, VVhen Phaebus drives, or night brings on the stars. But when they have teem'd, on th' offspring place all care, VVhich straight they name, and mark what breed they are, VVhich to increase their stock they most allow, Or sacred Altars serve, or draw the Plow, Or those thou would'st to Countrey uses frame. Instruct them young, and with much custome tame, Whil'st pliant are their joynts, and soft their minde. And first about their necks loose collors binde, Made with soft twigs, Next, when the free-borne are To service us'd, them in fit couples pair,

And let them joyne their equall steps with Art, And often use to draw an empty cart; To print a small tract in the dusty roade. Then grones the bee chen axe with ponderous load: Next a brass teeme, with mighty wheeles he drawes. Meane while th' unbroken steers, not only grasse, And fennie rushes, must with Sallow feed, But bring him corne thy self; nor let thy breed Their snowie milk pailes, as th' old custome fill, But the full teat, give their dear offspring still.

If thou in war, and cruell arms dost pride, Or neer Alphoeus streams delight'st to ride, And drive swift Chariots through the sacred Grove; First make thy horse, arm'd men and arms to love; Make him shrill Trumpets suffer, and to hear The groning wheeles, nor lashing whips to fear; And at th' applauses and his masters voyce, And sounding of his clap't neck, to rejoyce. This from the mothers teat he must indure, And to soft headstals him you must inure. Whil'st weak, and trembling, sturdie age unknown: The third year spent, the fourth now drawing on, Let him begin to ride the ring, and all His Aires to learn, Curvet, and Caprioll. Let his swift thighes alternate flexures bend; Then with the windes in nimble course contend, And with loose reins fly through the open strands, Scarce leaving any print upon the sands.

As from the Northern shores when Boreas fierce Doth Scythian stormes, and aiery clouds disperse. When with loud blasts, the waving Chaimpaine crown'd With rank corne shakes, and the tall woods resound. Huge billows charge the shore with all their force, winds fly, and Sea and Land scowre in their course.

This at the games of Elis swiftly flies Through the great lists, sweating to gain the prise, From's mouth flowes bloudy some, or else allots His soft neck for the Belgick Chariots. Then let the large limb'd grow, nor feeding spare When they are broke; before, they stubborne are; When taken up, their haughty souls disdaine The gentlest stroke, nor will indure the reine.

No art more keeps their strength then to remove Venus, and cruell shafts of blinded Love; Whether in herds thou dost, or horses pride. Far of the bulls alone are feeding ti de Behinde a mountain, or beyond some flood, Or at full stalls, shut up with plenteous food, The female in their sights, consume their strength, VVho burning, minde nor food, nor groves at length. She with her sweet inticements oft provokes Proud rivals, till their furie turne to strokes. In pleasant groves the beauteous Heifer feeds; But they joyn battell, and in warlick deeds Gaine many wounds; their bodies bath'd in gore, Closing their horns most dreadfully they rore. The mighty woods, and heavens vast Court resound. Nor more these warriors pasture in one ground; Exil'd to coasts unknown, the vanquish'd goes, Moning his shame, and the proud Conqueror's blowes. That unreveng'd from him his love was tooke, And looking back his native Realm forsook. Then he improves his strength with all his care, Amongst hard rocks all night his lodgings are: There he rough leaves, and brisly Carix eats, And striving with his horns, his anger whets Against a tree; his blowes the winde excite, Raising the sand a Prologue to the fight.

Strength once regain'd, he doth to battell goe, And suddain chargeth his forgetfull foe. As when amid'st the Sea billows grow white; Rowling from th' ocean, gather to a height, And now at Land, gainst rocks it strangely rores; Nor less then Mountains break upon the shores, The deep waves boyle, whirl'd with a foming tide, And working casts up sand on every side.

All men on earth, and beasts, both wilde and tame, Sea-monsters, gaudy fowle, rush to this flame: The same love works in all; with love ingag'd. The Lyoness mindelesse of her whelps, inrag'd VVanders the fields, nor foule Bears oftner take So many lives, nor greater slaughter make; Nor cruell Tygers, nor the raging Boar: Ah'tis ill wandring then, drie Lybias shore. Seest thou how horses will all over shake, When in their nostril's the known sent they take? Nor they with curbs, nor stripes can be debar'd, Nor Rocks, nor Rivers can their course retard; Though down they sweep whole Mountains with their waves. The Sabell Boare whetting his tusks, then raves Rubbing against a tree, and tears the ground, Hardning his shoulders gainst th' insuing wound.

How was that young man took, when fierce desire In his hot blood kindled so great a fire! For he when all the elements, did fight, Through Seas turn'd Mountains swomme in hideous night, When at him heavens Artillery thunder'd round, And broken billows gainst the Rocks resound: Nor could his wofull parents him recall, Nor she whose Fate attends his funerall.

But the Mares furie above all is fam'de; For Venus with such rage their minds inflam'de. VVhen Glaucus Chariot Mares with furie stir'd. Did with revenging teeth devoure their Lord. Beyond high Gargarus, loud Ascanius stream, O're hils, and deepest floods, Love carries them, And straight with hidden fire their marrow burns: But most i'th Spring, when heat of blood returns. Then all to courting Zephire turne their face, And plac'd on Rocks, lascivious gales imbrace, And oft they pregnant prove without a mate, Big with the windes and (wonderous to relate) Then over hils and dales are carried on; Not to thee Eurus, nor the rising Sun, To Boreas, nor whence Auster doth arise, And with black showrs in mourning cloaths the skies. Hence comes that poyson which the Shepherds call Hippomanes, and from their groine doth fall. The wofull bane oft cruell stepdames use, And with a charme mongst pow'rfull drugs infuse. But time irreparable hasts away. VVhil'st we with love transported waste the day.

Thus much for herds; Next be your care to keep The shaggie Goat, and drive the fleecie sheep: From this expect your glory, rustick Swaines: Nor am I ignorant how great a paines It is low things with glorious words to praise, And slender arguments to such honour raise. But me, love of Parnassus doth invite To hils untracted, there is my delight; VVhere no old path is to Castalia found. And now great Pales thee I shall resound.

First in warme Coats preserve thy flocks, and feed Till fresh spring give new livories to the Mead: Let straw and litter keep their lodgings warme, Lest cruell cold, the gentle offspring harme, Breeding the scab and rot; but Arbuts bring To wanton Goats, and water from the spring. Then free from winds against the winter sun Place thou their stalls, where Phoebus warms at noon. When cold Aquarius shall no more appear, Sprinkling chill dewes on the concluding year.

And to keep Goats take thou no smaller care, Nor less shall be thy gain, then if they were In rich Milesian fleeces cloath'd, and sold, Blushing in Tyrrian purple for much gold. These still will breed, hence store of milk you get: The more the paile fomes with the drained teat, The more sweet streams from the prest udder spin. Besides they cut the beards and hoarie chin Of the Cyniphian Goats, and brisly hairs, Usefull for Camps, and wofull Mariners. But they in woods and high Lycaeus rove, Feeding on briers, and bramble beries love. Then home returne, leading their own fair strain, And scarce with full teats o're the thresh••ld gain. But carefull keep from them cold windes and snow: Because they less the want of mortals know. And bring sweet food, for them green branches cut, Nor from the hay stack all long winter-shut. But when the spring the Western winds invokes; To Groves and Meads invite then both thy flocks. At the first dawn, in cold grounds let them feed, Whil'st day is young, and pearled is the mead. When dew to cattell deer, on soft grass lies, And the fourth houre heat musters from the skies;

And amongst shrubs the murmuring Grashopper sings; Command thy flocks then to the Lakes or Springs: Or let them taste sweet streams in pipes conveid; And when grown hot, to seek some cooling shade; Or Joves great Oke, preserved long from harms By ancient rites, stretching his mighty armes. Or where dark Groves are with thick branches made Awfull, and sacred with a horrid shade. To water then, and feed again, prepare At Sun-set, when sweet Vesper cooles the air, When the bright Moon relieves the thirsty ground, Halcyans on shores, and birds on trees resound.

Why should I thee of Lybian shepherds tell? Their pastures, and how scatteringly they dwell? Oft night and day, for a whole moneth they feed, And unhous'd Cattel through vast desarts leade. In open field the Lybian Shepherd lies, With him his stock, his house, and Deities, His arms, his Spartan Dog, and Cretan bow. So doth the armed Roman Soldier shew Loaden in's march; then stands in well pitch'd tents, Before the foe could have intelligence.

But Scythians who Maeotick Lakes command, And stormie Ister rouling golden sand, Where Rhodope doth to the poole extend, There in close stals the Cattell they defend. The fields no grass, the trees no leaves do boast: But snowie mountains, and a horrid frost Hides all the earth, at least seven Cubits high, Still cold, North winds blowing eternally. Nor can the Sun those gloomie shades displace; Nor when his horse mount the Meridian race, Nor when he cools them in the Western maine. There, icy setters straight swift rivers chaine.

Wheeles shod with iron the strong-back'd water bears, And where ships sail'd, now safe goe laden Cars. It breaks hard brass, cloaths freez upon their backs, Aud wine once liquid, suffers now the axe: And mighty lakes transform'd to ice; soone hard Grow drops of water on their uncomb'd beard. Meane while all heaven is dark with snow, sheep die, And under mighty drifts fair Cattell lie; Whole herds of Deer, new Mountains there infold; That scarse you may their lofty crests behold. Nor these with nets they snare, nor seiz with hounds; Nor are they frighted when the arrow sounds; But as they struggle under hils in vain, Kill with their Swords, whil'st they aloud complain, Then bear them home, triumphing with a crie. These under ground, in Caves securely lie. Whole Elms, and loads of mighty Oke are layd Upon the hearth, when the huge fire is made. They spend the night in sport; strong Ale they quaffe, And wanting VVine carouse sharp Cervice off. People so fierce nigh Hyperborean hills Under cold stars of th Artick Region dwels; Still beaten with the sharp Ryphaean blasts, Their body cloath'd with Sable Furs of beasts.

But if thou wool esteeme, from thorns thy sheep, From burs and briers preserve: from rank grass keep. And with soft fleeces snowie flocks elect; But him (although the Ram be white) reject Whose mouth is alwayes moyst, with a black tongue, Lest he should change the colours of the young. But choose another through the spacious plaine, VVith a white fleece (if it may credit gain),

Arcadian Pan, thee Luna to the grove, Calling intic'd; nor didst thou scorne his love.

Is milk thy care, then Lotus, Cythesus bring? And in their coats store of salt herbage fling. This makes them drink which more the reat extends, And with a quicker taste the milk commends. Some from the Dams hinders the tender Kids. And with hard muzzels from the pap forbids. VVhat they at morning milk, they press at night, VVhat they at evening gain, when day grows light The Swains to Market bring, or sprinkled o're VVith salt, they keep it for their winter store.

Nor of thy Dogs have thou less care; but feed Fleet Spartan whelps, and thy Mollossian breed VVith store of whay; commanding such a guard, 'Gainst thieves by night, or wolves thou art prepar'd: Nor shall the fierce Iberian thee afright. Thou the wilde timerous Asse shalt put to flight. Oft hunt the Hare and Deer with full-mouth'd hounds, And thrust forth Boars shelter'd in wood-land grounds: And from high Mountains with loud shouts beset Sometimes huge Stags, and drive them to thy net.

Next learn to burn sweet Cedar in their roomes, And smoke out Serpents with Galbanian gums. For ost amongst the planks a Viper lies, Deadly to touch, and light affrighted flies. Or else a Snake in sheltring roofs doth use, VVhich will on Cattell cruell bane infuse Hid in the ground: take thou a stake, or stone, And as he swels, and hisseth, knock him down. But if he threaten, yet thou mayst be sure, He will by flight his Coward head secure. His armed ribs being bruis'd, and harnes'd traine, Scarce rallying up his broken rear again.

In the Calabrian Groves there haunts a snake, Wreathing a haughtie Crest, and scalie back, And mingled spots on his long bellie shew. Who whil'st the rivers from the Mountains flow; Earth with the Spring dew'd, and the showrie South, He lives in fens, glutting his greedie mouth With fish, and croaking frogs; but when earth gapes, And Lakes are drain'd with heat, to Land he scapes: Rouling his flaming eyes; Then far and wide Rages with thirst, with heat much terrifi'de. Then let not me under heavens Canopie Sweet slumber seize, nor on the grass to lie Neere murmuring Groves, when he hath cast his skin, And rouling shines in want on youth agen; Leaving in's nest his egs, or else the young, And dares at Phoebus shake his triple tongue.

The signes and causes now of each disease, I'le thee informe: foule scabs thy flock will seise When chilling showres invade lifes strongest hold; And horrid frosts wax grim with bitter cold. Or when foule sweat sticks to them lately shorne, And with rough briers their naked bodies torne. For wiser Shepherds the whole flock will take, And deeply plunge them in some cleansing Lake: Far in to drench his fleece the Ram is thrown, Who with the gentle stream comes gliding down. Or when they'r shorne, the lees of oyle apply, Or silver spume, commix'd with Mercuris, Idean pitch, and store of oylie tar, Scylla, Bitumen and black Hellebor. And no indeavor shall finde more successe, Then if the skilfull Swaine an orifice

VVith a sharp Launce shall open on the head; Corruption lives, and is by covering fed. VVhil'st the idle Swaine neglects to dress the sore, And from the Gods doth better things implore.

VVhen in the Bleater's marrow aches breed, And putrid fevors on his spirits feed; It will be good t' avert the raging paine, By opening in his foot, the beating vein. So the Bisaltians were accustomed, And the most fierce Gelonians, when they fled To Rhodope, or Getan wildes; to quaffe, Mix'd with thick milk, the blood of horses off. If thou seest any to the coole shades draw, And sweet grass nibble, as they had no maw, Or lag behinde, or grazing to lie down, And ere they fould, to march away alone, Straight kill the guilty, ere the dire disease Infect the flock, and careless vulgar seise. Nor oftner is the floods disturb'd with winde Then sheep with rots, nor doth the sickness finde One to destroy; but suddainly doth fall On root and branch, stock and originall.

If any th' Alps and Norick Castles knowes, Plac'd on high hils, and where Tymavus flowes; Deserted Realms, now he may see of Swains, And every where Groves, and forsaken plaines.

Here, once the aire infected did beget A plague, which rag'd through the Autumnall heat: All kinde of Cattell, and of wilde beasts di'de; The grass was tainted, rivers putrifi'de; Nor was one way for death, but when the flame VVith burning thirst through feav'rous bodies came, Cold Rheums again abound; and the disease Their feeble limbs consumed by degrees.

Oft sacrifices, at the Altars plac'd With snowie wreaths, and flowry Garlands grac'd; E're Sacrificers could dispatch, fall dead: Or if before the Priest one slaughtered, The bowels on the Altars will not burne; Nor the Diviner answers can return. And scarce their knives with blood are sprinkled o're, And the top-sand be stain'd with watery gore. Then the fat Calf in richest pasture fals; And his sweet life gives up at plenteous stals. Hence Dogs run mad, and sickly Boars perplex't With a short cough; and with swolne jawes are vext. The Conquering steed, mindeless of war or food, Unhappie falls, and leaves the cooling flood, And with his feet the hard ground often beats. His ears now hang, and faint with troubled sweats Which neere their death growes cold; their skins are drie, And to be handled roughly do comply. To burning eyes short breathings grant no rest. Sometimes they grone; and deeply from their brest Fetch a sad sigh; blood from their nostrils flowes, And in lank jawes their tongue now rougher grows. To drench them with a horne of wine be sure: For to them dying this the only cure. Sometimes it kils; for thus refresh'd, they burn. (God bless good men, on bad this errour turn) With greater rage; and as cold death draws neer, With cruell teeth they their own members tear. The smoking Oxe is taken at the Plow, And from his mouth blood mix't with fome doth flow, Groning his last; whil'st the sad Plowman here Unyoaks (mourning his brothers death.) The steer, And mid'st his work the Plow leaves in the field. Nor shady groves, nor soft meads pleasure yield;

Nor streams which through the vales from mountains glide, And are more cleer then crystall purisi de. His sides grown lank, darknes his eyes o're spread, And to the ground falls, on his drooping head. What availes toyle or profit? what to turne Th'unwilling gleab? These not with rich wine burn, Nor surfets at high banquets taint their blood; But leaves, and simple herbage are their food. They drink pure fountains, and the running streams, Nor vexing care disturbs their healthy dreams; Then only in those Realms as fame hath taught, The Cattell were for Juno's offering sought. And unmatch'd steers her Chariot did convey To the high places where they honors pay.

The Earth they dig themselves, and set the corne, Nor from the mountains with their own neck scorn To draw the groning Car. No woolf did plot By stratagem to take some wealthy coat: Nor walks nocturnall rounds about the sheep, A cruel sickness him at home did keep. And now the nimble Buck and timerous Doe, Amongst the Dogs, about the houses goe. And then the Oceans numerous race, and all Those kinds that boast from thence originall, Wash'd with the floods, as shipwrack'd bodies come To shore, and Sea-calves up fresh rivers swoom. No lurking hole the viper now availes, Nor dreadfull Serpents with erected scales. Nor safety from sweet air could birds receive, But falling, in the Clouds their spirits leave. All Arts now harme, the wise Physitions faile. Chyron, Melampus, know not what they aile, Pale Tisiphon rages, sent from Stygian shades, In open light, and fear and sickness leads;

Her greedie jawes by day rais'd high from ground. The Rivers, hils, and sandie banks resound With bleating flocks, and loud complaining steers. And carcasses in mighty heaps she rears, Whole flocks she kills; with gore the stalls are drown'd: Till they had learn't to lay them in the ground. Their skins unusefull, water could not rense Their bowels, nor the fire their entrails cleanse, Nor shear, for the disease; their fleeces full Of filthiness, Nor touch the tainted wooll: And those durst wear the loathsome garments, get Inflamed Carbuncles, a clamie sweat Seiseth their noysome limbs, and in few hours Th' infected bodies sacred fire devours.

THE FOVRTH BOOK OF Virgil's GEORGICKS.

THE ARGUMENT.

How for the Bees fit stations to contrive. Of what, and how, to build the stately hive. In setling Realms, they oft divided are; And for their Kings contend in mighty war. Their Diet, Customs, Laws and Chastity: Their toyle and rest, they winds and rain foresee. Their stocks, their age, and Loyalty to Kings What their invention to perfection brings. What cures against Diseases to afford, And how th' whole Nation lost, may be restor'd.

I'Le to Aetheriall honey next proceed, Heavens choicest gift, this too, (Maecenas) reade. Wonders admir'd, to thee of lowly things, In order their whole stocks, magnanimous Kings, Wars, labours, manners, Nations I'le recite, Slight is the theame, but not the glory slight; If pleas'd powers grant, and cal'd Apollo heare.

First, for thy bees seek a fit station, where

No winds approach, (for them each gale forbids To bring home food. Nor sheep and wanton Kids Tread down the grasse, or heifers shake the dewes VVandring the plaines; and tender herbage bruise Thence speckled Lizards with pide shoulders drive Woodpecks, and other birds from the rich hive, And Progne who a bloodie hand did smeare. For all things these devast, in their mouthes bear The winged Bee, sweet food to cruell nests. Let Springs be neer, and Lakes green mosse invests; And a pure river gliding through the mead, Where Palme their gates, and branching Olive shade. That when new Kings shall forth their Colonies bring, And youth drawn out sport in the wanton spring; The neighbouring banks may them from heat invite, And willing trees with courteous boughes delight,

Amidst; whether the water stand or runs, Lay twigs a crosse, and cast in mighty stones, That they on many bridges safe may stand, And to the warming sun their wings expand. VVhen stormy Eurus hath them tardy found, And scatter'd, or indanger'd to have drown'd. Let verdant Cassia round about them dwell; And Betonie which gives so large a smell: And of sweet-breathing Succorie store be set, And let them drink the dewes of Violet.

VVhether of hollow bark thou dost contrive, Or else with limber twigs compose the hive: Make straight the gate: for cold congeales the wax, And heat by melting doth again relax: Both which extreams the Bees alike do fear. Nor they in vain those breathing cranies smear Of their low roofs with wax, indevouring still, Th' edges with balme, and pleasant flowrs to fill.

And for this use a glue they gather, which Excels all bird-lime and Idaean pitch.

Oft in deep Caves, (if fame a truth report) Low underneath, they vault their waxen Court; And oft discover'd in a hollow Rock, Or in the bellie of an aged Oke. But thou their roomes with clay well-temper'd, seel; And with leaves cover, that no cold they feel. About their Court let no Yewes grow, nor bake The fiery crab, nor trust too deep a Lake: Or where bad smels, or hollow Rocks resound, And angrie echoes of the voyce rebound.

Next when bright Sol makes winter to retreat Behinde the Earth, and opens Heaven with heat, Straight they draw out, and wander Groves and woods, Reap purple flowres, and taste the crystall floods. By what instinct I know not, then they flie To their own Courts, and their dear progenie. Next with great Art, their waxen Cels contrive, And the elaborated honey stive.

But when thou seest a troup aspiring, flie; Drawn from their winter quarters through the skie; And curious hast with admiration spide A sable Cloud through crystall Sphears to glide; Then to sweet springs, and pleasant shades they goe, Here oderous flowres, and beaten Milfoyle strow, With honey-Suckles make a brazen sound, And beat the Cymbals of the Goddess round: They on charm'd boughs will stay, or else retreat, As is the custome to their parents seat.

But if they draw to battell, (oft between Two Kings great discord, and sad wars have been) And straight thou mayst foresee the vulgar rage: Wilde for mad war; for those who not ingage,

The martiall note provokes, heard is th' alarme, Like dreadfull Trumpets when they sound to arme. They list proud troups in haste, their Spears they whet, Their light shields furnish, and their arms they fit, Guarding their King thick to the Court they goe, And with loud clamor challenge out the foe. Then when'tis fair, the open field they take, They joyne their battell, and they joyning make A noise scales heaven, and in close order all Strongly imbodied charge, then head-long fall.

Not thicker haile doth in a tempest poure,

Nor shaken Okes more plenteous akorns showre. The Kings amid'st the bands in armor shine, And mighty soules in narrow brests confine, Both resolute not to yield, till these or they Are to proud Conquerors fore'd to give the day: These huge commotions, and so mightie war, Suddain with thrown-up dust appeased are.

But when both Princes you from battell call, Who seems the worst, lest he a prodigall Should waste the stock; command him to be slain, And let the best in th' emptie pallace reign. One shines with gold, whom glorious colours grace, Two sorts there are: the best, his noble face Hath blushing cheeks, with sloth the other pale His sagging bellie after him doth traile. As their two Kings, such their two Nations are; For one s deform'd, as when a traveller Through clouds of dust, extreamly thirsty gets And from's drie mouth a sulleid water spits. The other shines with gold, and glory grac'd; And equall spots upon their bodies plac'd. This Progenie is best, from these you may Sweet honey at the certain time conveigh,

Not only sweet, but also shall be fine, And which shall qualifie your sharpest wine.

But when they wander, sporting through the skies, Forsake their hives, and cooling roofes despise, Let not their stragling minds seek idle things: Nor hard's the task; but cut their Princes wings, They staying at home, none dares to scale heavens arch, Or with spread ensignes from their camp to march. Them, let sweet gardens with fresh flowres invite, And old Priapus, who the thieves doth fright, And spoyling birds from thence with's awfull look, All safe preserving with his sallow hook.

Set thyme about their roofs, and Pines remove From lofty hills if thou such labours love Weary thy hand with toyle, and pleasant bowres Plant round, and dew the earth with friendly showrs. And did not I, now to my Port draw neer; And striking saile my prow to shore did steer; How to adorne fair gardens I would sing, And Pestum, where there is a double spring. Why Succorie in pleasant streams delights, And verdant parseley swelling banks invites; And Cucumers grow plump along the grass, Nor would I Daffadils long in growth, orepasse; Or soft Acanthus, winding Ivie's store, And Myrtle so inamour'd on the shore.

I call to minde neere high Oebalius towrs, Where slow Galesus waters Ceres bowrs, I saw an old Corycian, who injoy'd Few akers, not for pasturage imploy'd, Nor was it fit for corne or vineyard found. Yet he, mongst thornes, choice herbs and lillies round His garden Vervaine did, and Poppie finde, That wealthiest Kings he equal'd in his minde:

And late at night returning home well stor'd, He with unpurchas'd banquets lades his board. He in the spring did first sweet Roses pull; And could in Autumne apples soonest cull; VVhen stones with cold the cruell winter cleaves, And bridles up with ice the flowing waves. His soft Acanthus now he gently twinde, Chiding the tardy spring, and lingring winde. Therefore huge swarms, his bees first pregnant brought, And his full combes rivers of honey fraught, His Pines and barren Lindons fruitfull were; As many blossoms as his tree did bear, So many apples it in Autumne grac'd: And he the lofty Elms in order plac'd. Wardens, and Thorne, which now a damson made, And Planes which to Carousers are a shade; But these excluded by a narrow straight, I leave to others after to relate.

Now I'le declare those gifts which were confer'd On bees by Jove himself, for what reward They follow'd tinkling brass, and Curets sound, And fed the King of heaven under ground.

In common only they maintain their race, And like a Citie rang'd their houses place; And understrictest Laws they aged grow, Their native Countrey, and fix'd mansions know, Mindfull of winter, labour in the Spring, And to the publick store their profit bring.

For some provide, and by a compact made Labour abroad; others within are stai'd To lay Narcissus tears, and yielding gum As the first ground-work, of the honey combe: And after they tenacious honey spread. Others the Nations hope, young Colonies breed.

A second part the purest honey stives; Untill the liquid Nectar crack the hives.

There are by lot attend the gates, t'informe Approaching showrs, and to foretell a storme. To ease the loaden, or imbattel'd drive The Drones, a slothfull cattell from the hive. Work heats; of thyme the fragrant honey smels. As when the Cyclops the soft masse compels, Hasting for Jove huge thunderbolts to make: Some with the bellows air returne, and take; Others in water dip the hissing o're; Aetnean Caves with beaten anvils rore: They with much strength, their arms in order raise, And turne with tongues the mass a thousand wayes. So (if I may great things compare with small) Bees to their work for love of profit fall, Each hath his task, the aged Rulers are, And frame Dedalian roofs, and combs repair; But those that youthfull be, and in their prime, Late in the night return, loaden with thyme, On every bush, and tree about they spread; And are with Cassia and rich Saffron fed, Or purple Daffadils, and Lindors tall. All rest at once; at once they labour all. Early they take the field, at night again When Vesper them from feeding doth constrain; Homeward they draw; and strength decaid restore, And with soft murmurs throng about the dore.

When they repose, all night they silent are, And pleasant sleep doth wearied limbs repair; Nor from their hives they stir, when rain is nigh, Nor trust their persons to a stormy skie. But safe they water nere their Cities wall; And oft with Pebles journeys make, but small,

As a light boat ballanc'd on raging seas, VVith which through vacant aire themselves they peise.

'Tis strange that Bees such customs should maintain, Venus to scorne: in wanton lust disdain To waste their strength; and without throws they breed; But cull from leaves, and various flowres their seed. Their Kings and pettie Princes they proclaime, Then Pallaces and waxen Kingdoms frame, But oft their wings are torne on Rocks abroad, And free they spend their lives beneath their load, So love they flowrs, and to make honey pride. Though soon the tearm of their short life doth glide, (For the seventh summer a full period gives) Yet their immortall race for ever lives. Their noble house for many years remains, And records keep of antient Princes reigns.

Next not rich Aegypt, nor great Lydia, Parthians or Medians, more their Prince obey, Whil'st their King lives, they all agree in one, But dead, the publick faith is overthrown. They make the Common wealth a spoyle, and rend Their Waxen Realms, his life did all defend. They honour him, and with a martiall sound Circle about, and strongly guard him round. Bear on their back, twix'd him and death they stood, And purchas'd noble funerals with their blood.

From these examples some there are maintain, That Bees derive from a celestiall strain, And heavenly race; they say the Deity Is mix'd through earth, the Sea, and lofty skie, Hence men and beasts, both wilde, and tame derive; And what so ere by breathing air survive. To this they after are dissolv'd, and then Return'd assume first Principles agen: Nor is there place for death; their spirits fly To the great stars, and plant the lofty skie.

But if their narrow Courts thou mean'st to spoyle, And seiz the treasure of the honey pile, Water with silence in their chambers spout, And with your hand extended smoke them out. Twice they swarme yearly, twice a large increase Their harvest brings; first when the Pleiades Her sacred brow above the earth doth shoot, And spurnes the scorned Ocean with her foot; Or when that star from watery signes retires, And sad in stormy waves conceases her fires.

But when incens'd their anger knows no mean, For if you hurt them; they inspire a bane; And in the bodie fix'd their Javelins leave; And where they give the wound, their death receive.

But fear'st thou cruell winter, and wouldst spare Pittying their broken mindes, and sad affair; Who doubts to cut them wax, and to persume With thyme? for oft base Lizards spoyle the coomb, And the blinde Beetle wasts the precious hoard, ••••nd Drones free-quartered at anothers board. Or cruell Wasps charge with unequal•• arms, Or the Moths eating generation harmes, Or else Minerva's hatefull Spider sets About their Pallace gates, intangling nets. How much by fortune they exhausted are, So much they strive their ruines to repair Of their falne Nation, and they fill th' Exchange Adorning with the choicest flowrs their grange.

But if (since Bees know our calamities) Their bodies languish in a sad disease, Which thou by signes to manifest mayst know, Their looks are chang'd, and their dejected brow Paleness deforms▪ when they to shades descend, In order wofull funerals they attend. Or else they mourn lingering about the dore, Or in their chambers privately deplore;

Till they with hunger, and stiffe cold grow numb. Then sadder notes are heard, a dolefull hum. As when rough Auster murmurs through the woods, Or as loud waves rore with incensed floods, Or dreadfull flames rage pent in furnaces. To burn Galbanian odour I'le advise, And bring the mourners honey in a cane, T'intice the wretches to known food again. Juice of Oke-apples mix'd with Roses dride; And richest wine, with fire well purifi'de, To these Cecropian thyme, and Centaurie joyne, And grapes which dangle on th' Psythian vine.

There is a flower, which grows in meadow ground: Swaines call Amello, easie to be found: Which golden, like a mighty grove doth sprout: But the thick leaves, that shade it round about Are clad in purple; which the Altars oft Imbraceth with sweet wreathes, and garlands soft: Sharp in the taste; wise Shepherds gather them In flowrie vales, neer Mellas sacred stream. The root of these they mix with Bacchus blood, And at their gates leave plenty of this food.

But should the whole stock faile, not one remain, From whom they should derive their house again; Th' Arcadians rare invention we must here Remember, who with blood of a slaine steer Oft Bees restor'd. I will recount it all And tell the story from th' originall.

Where happy people plant Canopus soyl, And dwell neer spreading streams of flowing Nile, And through their Countrey painted vessels rowes, And where the stream from the tan'd Indian flowes, Which borders nigh the quiver'd Persian land, And verdant Aegypt mailes with fruitfull sand; Then spreading doth in seven large channels part, These Nations all are confident in this art.

First take a little place, for that use chose, Then tile it, and with narrow wals inclose, And let there be four windows next design'd, With oblique lights, made from each severall winde. Then take a steer; grac'd with a branching top, Of two year old; his breath and nostrils stop; And whil'st he struggles, him with beating kill, That the sound hide his dissolv'd bowels fill. Thus dead they leave it shut and under lay Green branches, thyme and freshest Cassia. This must be done, when Zephire calms the main, Before the Meads blush with new flowrs again, Ere her high nest the chattering Swallow makes. Whilst in young bones the cherish'd humour takes, Then moving Creatures, (wonderous to behold,) First without feet, then sounding wings unfold; Then boldly by degrees to heaven they tower, And sallie forth, thick as a summer showre; Or as a cloud of arrows in their flight, When the bold Parthians are ingag'd in fight. What God ô Muse! this strange art did invent, From whence had man this new experiment.

When Aristhaeus left sweet Tempe's coast, His Bees by famine and diseases lost, Sad, standing at the sacred fountains head, Complaining much he to his mother said. Mother, Cyrene, who commands these floods, Why me, the noble offspring of the Gods (If Phoebus is my Sire as you declare) Bor'st thou the scorne of Fate? where is your care? Thou gav'st me hope, that I in heaven should reign; But now those honours mortall life sustain Of corne, and herds, got by such toyle, and care, I now must loose, though you my Mother are. Goe, and my fertile groves thy self annoy, And burn my stalls; with fire my corne destroy.

Hew down, and spoyle my vinyards; if to thee, So grievous are those honours granted me.

Under the streams soft bed his Mother heard, Whil'st round her Nymphs Milesian wool did card, Staind with rich green. Drimo and Xantho, faire Philodoce and Ligea, their bright haire Upon their snowie necks dishevel'd lay, Spio, Nisaee, Cymodoce and Thalia, Lycorias, Cydipe; a virgine one, The other had pangs of Lucina known: Clio, and Beroe, both to th' Ocean borne, VVhom gold, and curious mantles did adorne. Ephyre, and Ophis, Asian Diope, And Arethusa swift her arms laid by.

Amongst these Climene did vain cares relate Of Vulcan, those sweet thefts and Mars deceit, Gods many loves, from Chaos did rehearse VVhil'st they their soft webs ply, pleas'd with the verse. Aristaeus grief, then pierc'd his mothers ear; All on their crystall seats amazed were. But Arethusa first her golden head Advancing from a swelling billow, said, Dear sister, not in vain we troubled are, VVith such a sad complaint; thy chiefest care Poore Aristaeus, at his fathers streams Stands weeping, and thy cruelty condemns: Then said his mother, struck with suddain fear, Hast, hast, and shew him in, he may repair To the Gods Court; then bids the waves divide, To make her Son a passage: on each side Billows like Mountains stand; then she receives Him twixt the flood; and leads beneath the waves. He wondring goes, through Courts, and crystall Realms; Loud groves, and Caves, which water over-whelms; And with tumultuous waves astonish'd found All the great rivers, gliding under ground

Through divers wayes, whence Phasis, Lycus spread, And where deep Inepeus shews his head, And where old Tyber, and sweet Aniens flowes, VVhere murmuring Hypanis, and Lycus rose, Golden Eridanus, with a double horne, Fac'd like a Bull: through fertile fields of corne Then whom none swifter of the Oceans sons Down to the purple Adriatick runs.

VVhen he to chambers arch'd with pumice drew, And that Cyrene his vain sorrow knew, To wash his hands, his sisters from the spring Draw crystall water, and fring'd towels bring, Tables they load with meat, and full Cups plac'd, Then with Pancheian fire the Altar grac'd.

Here spake his mother, Let rich wine be payd Unto the sea; next to the Ocean pray'd, Founder of things, and to the nymphs, who woods Preserve a hundred, and as many floods. Now thrice on fire she casts the flowing wine, As oft with flame the lofty seelings shine. Pleas'd with the Omen then she thus began.

Green Proteus dwels in the Carpathian maine, Prophet to Neptune, through broad seas he glides; And in his Chariot with Sea-horses rides. Now gone t' Emathia and his native shore: VVe Sea Nymphs, and old Nereus him adore. For the great Prophet all things doth foresee, VVhat is, what was, and what shall after be: This Neptune gave him, whose great herd he breeds, And nuge Sea-Calves beneath the water feeds. But him thou first must binde, ere heel'le declare Cause of thy losse, and prosper thy affair. Unless you force him, no advice he grants, And is inexorable to all complaints. Handle him roughly then, and binde him fast, And all his slights shall useless prove at last.

I'le bring thee (when at noon the Sun invades The scorched grass, and beasts retire to shades;) To th' old mans Cave; whom suddain thou mayst seize, As he in soft repose shall take his ease.

But when th' hast bound him, and with chains subdude, With various transformations he'le delude; A savage Boar, fierce Tyger, scalie Snake, And a huge Lion with a shaggie neck; Or to escape shall thunder like a flame; Or glide from thee in a swift crystall stream: How much the more he changes to all shapes, So much more carefull (son) prevent escapes; Till his first forme returns, which thou did'st spie, When he in pleasant slumber clos'd his eye.

This said she with a heavenly odour strews, Her son all over, and Ambrosian dews: Her comely tresses breathe celestiall air, And did his body with new strength repair.

There is a Cave, worne in a mountains side, Where stormy winds oft forc'd the swelling tide, VVhich cuts it self into a land-lockd bay, VVhere once strest Mariners in safety lay.

Proteus in this lies guarded with a vast Fence-work of Rock; here she the young man plac'd Shelter'd with darkness, from discovering light: But she to thin air vanish'd from his sight.

And now hot Syrius through drie India hurl'd, Rag'd from the skie, and all the middle world The Sun inflam'd; grass burns, and to the mud The scortching beams boyle the exhausted flood, VVhen Proteus came to his accustomd place, About him the vast Oceans watery race, VVho sporting, off the brackish water shake, Then stretch't along the shore, sound sleep they take. He as a herdman in the mountains, when Vesper invites Cattell to house agen;

And bleating Lambs, the cruell wolves provoke, Sits on a cliffe, and numbers all his flock.

He since so fair the opportunity shews, Scarce grants th' old man his weary limbs compose, But rusheth with a shout and bound him laid. VVho not unmindfull of his arts t' evade, Transforms himself into all monsters dire: Now he's a beast, a flood, and straight a fire. But when no slight prevail'd, he vanquished Himself assumes, and with a mans voyce said.

O most undanted youth, by whose commands Found'st thou our Court? what seek'st thou at our hands? But he repli'de: Proteus, thou knowst, thou know'st; Nor of beguiling thee may any boast. Desist; I seek, commanded here by Fate, How to repair my now decayed state.

The Prophet then rouling his fiery eyes VVith flaming beams, inraged, thus replies, And Destiny declares: No common God Displeas'd, on thee hath laid his heavie rod; A great plague is begun; this punishment, (And less then thou deserv st) hath Orpheus sent. For he incens'd (if Fates not interpose) For his lost wife, will yet procure more woes. VVho whil'st she swiftly by the river side From thee pursuing fled, unhappy Bride Saw not the mighty Snake, which lurking was Under the bank and hid in spreading grass. Alone the Dryades on mountains wept, The Rhodopeian towrs her funerals kept, Lofty Pangaea, and bold Rhesus coast, Getes, Hebrus, and Actian Orythia most. He on his well-tun'de instrument, alone His hapless love, thee his sweet wife did moane; And by himself thee on forsaken shores, Early and late, thee in his song deplores;

He Taenarus, and wofull gates of Dis; And horrid groves where dreadfull darkness is, And Manes past, to the stern King repairs, And courts not us'd to bend to humane prayers. He with his song, charm'd from the dismall Coasts, Of Eribus pale soules, and liveless Ghosts, Men, women, and magnanimous Heroes, here Boyes, virgins, young men laid upon the beer Before their Parents face: whom hellish mud And horrid reeds of th Acherontick flood, With slow fens of th' innavigable sound Bindes in, and Styx nine times incircles round. Hells court, and gates of death amazed were; The furies now not twist their snakie haire, Then silenc'd were loud Cerberus triple jaws, Ixions restles wheele stood at a pause: All these he past; then back returns, with faire Eurydice, to the Aetheriall aire, She following him (for so hells Queen injoyn'd) When fond thoughts seiz'd th' incautelous lovers minde: The fault was small, if fiends to pardon knew; He made a stand; as to the light he drew, Forgetfull, love prevailing o're his minde, On his Eurydice to look back, inclin'd; His labour lost, hels Tyrant promise brake, And thrice a sound rose from th' Avernian Lake.

But she Dear Orpheus said, what thee could move To ruine both? why was so much thy love? Behold I am recal'd by destinies, Eternall sleep closeth my failing eyes; And now farewell; black night surroundeth me, Stretching weak hands, alas, not thine, to thee. This said; she suddain vanish'd from his eyes, And like smoke mix'd with winde, dispersed, flies, Nor saw him catch in vain the yielding aire, Earnest his mighty sorrow to declare.

Nor would hels churlish Feriman agen Transport him o're the Acherontick fen. What can he do? twice having lost his love, Or with what sute infernall spirits move? She sayling in the Stygian boat growes cold. Whil'st seven long moneths delaying periods told Under a Rock, (as fame reports) he kept; And at forsaken Strymons billows wept. Mourning in dismall Caves, Tygers, once fierce, Grow milde, and stubborn Okes move at his Verse.

As mongst the Poplar shade in dolefull strains Rob'd of her young, sad Philomel complains; Whom scarce yet fleg'd, some rustick having found Took from the nest: but she doth woes resound Perch'd on a tree; and the whole night laments, Filling all places with her sad complaints.

No love, nor other bed, could him intice: Alone he goes, through Hyperborean ice, And Tanais snow, wandring through bitter coasts, For ever wedded to Rhiphaean frosts: Pluto's vain gift Eurydice he mourn'd. The Thracian Dames because their beds he scorn'd, Him at their Bacchanalian orgies tore, And strew the young mans limbs about the shore. His head then from his Ivorie shoulders torn, Was down the channell of swift Hebrus born, And whilst his dying tongue could move at all; Eurydice, Eurydice, did call: And all the banks resound Euridice. This Proteus said, and lept into the Sea, And where he lept did make the fomie wave Under his body, with huge strokes to rave.

Then thus Cyrene spake, to ease his care. My dearest son, now lay aside all fear, Since the whole cause is known of thy mischance, The Nymphs with whom in groves she us'd to dance,

Have sent this sad destruction on thy Bees, Then humbly them appease with sacrifice, And there the yielding Dryades adore; They will forgive, if thou with vows implore. But first know how thou shalt thy offering make.

Foure of thy large, and best-fed bullocks take, Which now on tops of green Lycaeus use; As many of thy unbroke heifers choose, Then with great care for these foure Altars raise In the high Temples of the Goddesses: And from their throates let forth the sacred blood, Then leave their bodies in a shadie wood; And when the ninth Aurora brings the day, To Orpheus Ghost Lethaean Poppie pay, And a black sheep: then view the grove again Pleasing Eurydice with a fat Calf slain. He the Commands of's mother straight obey'd, Went to the temple, and foure Altars made: And foure of's largest bullocks forth he took; As many comely heisers never broke.

And when the ninth day bright Aurora shew'd, He worships Orpheus, and the wood review d. A wonder not to be believ'd! he sees From the dissolved entrails swarms of Bees Which from the broken ribs, resounding flye, And in a thick cloud sallie to the skie. On a tall trees top-branch they cluster now, As grapes hang dangling on the gentle bow.

Thus tillage, beasts, and trees, have been my theame, Whil'st mighty Caesar at Euphrates stream Thunders with war, and Conqueror Laws ordains For willing Realms, and heaven with valour gains. To mee sweet Capua breeding then imparts, Pleas'd with the study of contemned arts: There a bold youth, I chanted rurall aires, And Tityrus sung in cool shade free from cares.