Georgics
Virgil
Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.
- If now their narrow home thou wouldst unseal,
- And broach the treasures of the honey-house,
- With draught of water first toment thy lips,
- And spread before thee fumes of trailing smoke.
- Twice is the teeming produce gathered in,
- Twofold their time of harvest year by year,
- Once when Taygete the Pleiad uplifts
- Her comely forehead for the earth to see,
- With foot of scorn spurning the ocean-streams,
- Once when in gloom she flies the watery Fish,
- And dips from heaven into the wintry wave.
- Unbounded then their wrath; if hurt, they breathe
- Venom into their bite, cleave to the veins
- And let the sting lie buried, and leave their lives
- Behind them in the wound. But if you dread
- Too rigorous a winter, and would fain
- Temper the coming time, and their bruised hearts
- And broken estate to pity move thy soul,
- Yet who would fear to fumigate with thyme,
- Or cut the empty wax away? for oft
- Into their comb the newt has gnawed unseen,
- And the light-loathing beetles crammed their bed,
- And he that sits at others' board to feast,
- The do-naught drone; or 'gainst the unequal foe
- Swoops the fierce hornet, or the moth's fell tribe;
- Or spider, victim of Minerva's spite,
- Athwart the doorway hangs her swaying net.
- The more impoverished they, the keenlier all
- To mend the fallen fortunes of their race
- Will nerve them, fill the cells up, tier on tier,
- And weave their granaries from the rifled flowers.