Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- Come, then, I will unfold the natural powers
- Great Jove himself upon the bees bestowed,
- The boon for which, led by the shrill sweet strains
- Of the Curetes and their clashing brass,
- They fed the King of heaven in Dicte's cave.
- Alone of all things they receive and hold
- Community of offspring, and they house
- Together in one city, and beneath
- The shelter of majestic laws they live;
- And they alone fixed home and country know,
- And in the summer, warned of coming cold,
- Make proof of toil, and for the general store
- Hoard up their gathered harvesting. For some
- Watch o'er the victualling of the hive, and these
- By settled order ply their tasks afield;
- And some within the confines of their home
- Plant firm the comb's first layer, Narcissus' tear,
- And sticky gum oozed from the bark of trees,
- Then set the clinging wax to hang therefrom.
- Others the while lead forth the full-grown young,
- Their country's hope, and others press and pack
- The thrice repured honey, and stretch their cells
- To bursting with the clear-strained nectar sweet.
- Some, too, the wardship of the gates befalls,
- Who watch in turn for showers and cloudy skies,
- Or ease returning labourers of their load,
- Or form a band and from their precincts drive
- The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work!
- How sweet the honey smells of perfumed thyme
- Like the Cyclopes, when in haste they forge
- From the slow-yielding ore the thunderbolts,
- Some from the bull's-hide bellows in and out
- Let the blasts drive, some dip i' the water-trough
- The sputtering metal: with the anvil's weight
- Groans Etna: they alternately in time
- With giant strength uplift their sinewy arms,
- Or twist the iron with the forceps' grip—
- Not otherwise, to measure small with great,
- The love of getting planted in their breasts
- Goads on the bees, that haunt old Cecrops' heights,
- Each in his sphere to labour. The old have charge
- To keep the town, and build the walled combs,
- And mould the cunning chambers; but the youth,
- Their tired legs packed with thyme, come labouring home
- Belated, for afar they range to feed
- On arbutes and the grey-green willow-leaves,
- And cassia and the crocus blushing red,
- Glue-yielding limes, and hyacinths dusky-eyed.
- One hour for rest have all, and one for toil:
- With dawn they hurry from the gates—no room
- For loiterers there: and once again, when even
- Now bids them quit their pasturing on the plain,
- Then homeward make they, then refresh their strength:
- A hum arises: hark! they buzz and buzz
- About the doors and threshold; till at length
- Safe laid to rest they hush them for the night,
- And welcome slumber laps their weary limbs.