as thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,and of thy father's deeds, and inly learnwhat virtue is, the plain by slow degreeswith waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,from the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,and stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathlessyet shall there lurk within of ancient wrongsome traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships,gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth.Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be,