Georgics

Virgil

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

  1. What more? When now the golden sun has put
  2. Winter to headlong flight beneath the world,
  3. And oped the doors of heaven with summer ray,
  4. Forthwith they roam the glades and forests o'er,
  5. Rifle the painted flowers, or sip the streams,
  6. Light-hovering on the surface. Hence it is
  7. With some sweet rapture, that we know not of,
  8. Their little ones they foster, hence with skill
  9. Work out new wax or clinging honey mould.
  10. So when the cage-escaped hosts you see
  11. Float heavenward through the hot clear air, until
  12. You marvel at yon dusky cloud that spreads
  13. And lengthens on the wind, then mark them well;
  14. For then 'tis ever the fresh springs they seek
  15. And bowery shelter: hither must you bring
  16. The savoury sweets I bid, and sprinkle them,
  17. Bruised balsam and the wax-flower's lowly weed,
  18. And wake and shake the tinkling cymbals heard
  19. By the great Mother: on the anointed spots
  20. Themselves will settle, and in wonted wise
  21. Seek of themselves the cradle's inmost depth.
  1. But if to battle they have hied them forth—
  2. For oft 'twixt king and king with uproar dire
  3. Fierce feud arises, and at once from far
  4. You may discern what passion sways the mob,
  5. And how their hearts are throbbing for the strife;
  6. Hark! the hoarse brazen note that warriors know
  7. Chides on the loiterers, and the ear may catch
  8. A sound that mocks the war-trump's broken blasts;
  9. Then in hot haste they muster, then flash wings,
  10. Sharpen their pointed beaks and knit their thews,
  11. And round the king, even to his royal tent,
  12. Throng rallying, and with shouts defy the foe.
  13. So, when a dry Spring and clear space is given,
  14. Forth from the gates they burst, they clash on high;
  15. A din arises; they are heaped and rolled
  16. Into one mighty mass, and headlong fall,
  17. Not denselier hail through heaven, nor pelting so
  18. Rains from the shaken oak its acorn-shower.
  19. Conspicuous by their wings the chiefs themselves
  20. Press through the heart of battle, and display
  21. A giant's spirit in each pigmy frame,
  22. Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those
  23. The victor's ponderous arm has turned to flight.
  24. Such fiery passions and such fierce assaults
  25. A little sprinkled dust controls and quells.