Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- In early spring-tide, when the icy drip
- Melts from the mountains hoar, and Zephyr's breath
- Unbinds the crumbling clod, even then 'tis time;
- Press deep your plough behind the groaning ox,
- And teach the furrow-burnished share to shine.
- That land the craving farmer's prayer fulfils,
- Which twice the sunshine, twice the frost has felt;
- Ay, that's the land whose boundless harvest-crops
- Burst, see! the barns. But ere our metal cleave
- An unknown surface, heed we to forelearn
- The winds and varying temper of the sky,
- The lineal tilth and habits of the spot,
- What every region yields, and what denies.
- Here blithelier springs the corn, and here the grape,
- There earth is green with tender growth of trees
- And grass unbidden. See how from Tmolus comes
- The saffron's fragrance, ivory from Ind,
- From Saba's weakling sons their frankincense,
- Iron from the naked Chalybs, castor rank
- From Pontus, from Epirus the prize-palms
- O' the mares of Elis. Such the eternal bond
- And such the laws by Nature's hand imposed
- On clime and clime, e'er since the primal dawn
- When old Deucalion on the unpeopled earth
- Cast stones, whence men, a flinty race, were reared.
- Up then! if fat the soil, let sturdy bulls
- Upturn it from the year's first opening months,
- And let the clods lie bare till baked to dust
- By the ripe suns of summer; but if the earth
- Less fruitful just ere Arcturus rise
- With shallower trench uptilt it—'twill suffice;
- There, lest weeds choke the crop's luxuriance, here,
- Lest the scant moisture fail the barren sand.