Georgics

Virgil

Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.

  1. Say what was he, what God, that fashioned forth
  2. This art for us, O Muses? of man's skill
  3. Whence came the new adventure? From thy vale,
  4. Peneian Tempe, turning, bee-bereft,
  5. So runs the tale, by famine and disease,
  6. Mournful the shepherd Aristaeus stood
  7. Fast by the haunted river-head, and thus
  8. With many a plaint to her that bare him cried:
  9. “Mother, Cyrene, mother, who hast thy home
  10. Beneath this whirling flood, if he thou sayest,
  11. Apollo, lord of Thymbra, be my sire,
  12. Sprung from the Gods' high line, why barest thou me
  13. With fortune's ban for birthright? Where is now
  14. Thy love to me-ward banished from thy breast?
  15. O! wherefore didst thou bid me hope for heaven?
  16. Lo! even the crown of this poor mortal life,
  17. Which all my skilful care by field and fold,
  18. No art neglected, scarce had fashioned forth,
  19. Even this falls from me, yet thou call'st me son.
  20. Nay, then, arise! With thine own hands pluck up
  21. My fruit-plantations: on the homestead fling
  22. Pitiless fire; make havoc of my crops;
  23. Burn the young plants, and wield the stubborn axe
  24. Against my vines, if there hath taken the
  25. Such loathing of my greatness.”