But when the western winds, with vital power,
Call forth the tender grass and budding flower;
Then, at the last, produce in open air
Both flocks, and send 'em to their summer fare.
PASTURING IN THE MORNING; FORENOON; IN SUMMER; THE
OAK-SHADE; GROVE; EVENING.

Before the sun while Hesperus appears;
First let 'em sip from herbs the pearly tears
Of morning dews; and after break their fast
On green-sward ground, a cool and grateful taste:
But when the day's fourth hour has drawn the dews,
And the sun's sultry heat their thirst renews;
When creaking grasshoppers on shrubs complain,
Then lead 'em to their watering-troughs again.
In Summer's heat some bending valley find,
Closed from the sun, but open to the wind;
Or seek some ancient oak, whose arms extend
In ample breadth, thy cattle to defend ;
Or solitary grove, or gloomy glade,
To shield 'em with its venerable shade.
Once more to watering lead, and feed again,
When the low sun is sinking to the main
When rising Cynthia sheds her silver dews,
And the cool evening-breeze the meads renews ;
When linnets fill the woods with tuneful sound,
And hollow shores the halcyon's voice rebound.

-

THE LYBIAN PASTURES AND FLOCKS; LYBIAN PRAIRIES AND NOMADES; THE ROMAN SOLDIER.

Why should my muse enlarge on Lybian swains;
Their scattered cottages, and ample plains?
Where oft the flocks without a leader stray,
Or through continued deserts take their way;
And, feeding, add the length of night to day.
Whole months they wander, grazing as they go;
Nor folds nor hospitable harbor know:
Such an extent of plains, so vast a space
Of wilds unknown, and of untasted grass,
Allures their eyes: the shepherd last appears,
And with him all his patrimony bears;

His house and household gods; his trade of war;
His bow and quiver; and his trusty cur.
Thus, under heavy arms, the youth of Rome
Their long laborious marches overcome;
Cheerly their tedious travels undergo,

And pitch their sudden camp before the foe.

THE SCYTHIAN, THRACIAN, CRIMEAN, AND DANUBIAN SHEPHERDS; SNOW.

Not so the Scythian shepherd tends his fold;
Nor he who bears in Thrace the bitter cold;
Nor he who treads the bleak Mæotian strand;
Or where proud Ister rolls his yellow sand.

Early they stall their flocks and herds; for there
No grass the fields, no leaves the forests wear.
The frozen earth lies buried there, below
A hilly heap, seven cubits deep in snow:
And all the west allies of stormy Boreas blow.
WINTERS OF NORTH EUROPE; ICE; FROST; FROZEN WINE;
SLEET AND SNOW; HERDS BURIED IN SNOW.

The sun from far peeps with a sickly face;
Too weak the clouds and mighty fogs to chase,
When up the skies he shoots his rosy head,

Or in the ruddy ocean seeks his bed.
Swift rivers are with sudden ice constrained;
And studded wheels are on its back sustained.
An hostry now for wagons, which before
Tall ships of burden on its bosom bore.
The brazen cauldrons with the frost are flawed;
The garment, stiff with ice, at hearths is thawed;
With axes first they cleave the wine, and thence
By weight the solid portions they dispense.
From locks uncombed, and from the frozen beard,
Long icicles depend, and crackling sounds are heard.
Meantime perpetual sleet, and driving snow,
Obscure the skies, and hang on herds below.
The starving cattle perish in their stalls,
Huge oxen stand enclosed in wintry walls

Of snow congealed; whole herds are buried there
Of mighty stags, and scarce their horns appear.

HUNTING THE DEER IN THE SNOW.

The dextrous huntsman wounds not these afar With shafts, or darts, or makes a distant war With dogs; or pitches toils to stop their flight: But close engages in unequal fight.

And while they strive in vain to make their way
Through hills of snow, and pitifully bray,
Assaults with dint of sword, or pointed spears,
And homeward, on his back, the joyful burden bears.

THE TROGLODYTES IN WINTER; THEIR UNDERGROUND LIFE;
CIDER; BEER; THE RIPHÆANS, DUTCH; FURS.
The men to subterranean caves retire,
Secure from cold, and crowd the cheerful fire:
With trunks of elms and oaks the hearth they load,
Nor tempt th' inclemency of heaven abroad.
Their jovial nights in frolics and in play
They pass, to drive the tedious hours away.
And their cold stomachs with crowned goblets cheer
Of windy cider, and of barmy beer.

Such are the cold Riphæan race; and such
The savage Scythian, and unwarlike Dutch;
Where skins of beasts the rude barbarians wear,
The spoils of foxes and the furry bear.

HOW TO SECURE CLEAN, WHITE FLEECES. PAN AND DIANA.
Is wool thy care? Let not thy cattle go
Where bushes are, where burs and thistles grow ;
Nor in too rank a pasture let 'em feed:
Then of the purest white select thy breed.
Ev'n though a snowy ram thou shalt behold,
Prefer him not in haste for husband to thy fold.
But search his mouth; and if a swarthy tongue
Is underneath his humid palate hung;
Reject him, lest he darken all the flock;
And substitute another from thy stock.
"T was thus with fleeces milky white (if we
May trust report), Pan, god of Arcady,
Did bribe thee, Cynthia; nor didst thou disdain
When called in woody shades to cure a lover's pain.

HOW TO FEED FOR MILK; MILKING.

If milk be thy design, with plenteous hand
Bring clover-grass; and from the marshy land
Salt herbage for the foddering rack provide,
To fill their bags, and swell the milky tide :

These raise their thirst, and to the taste restore
The savor of the salt, on which they fed before.
Some, when the kids their dams too deeply drain,
With gags and muzzles their soft mouths restrain.
Their morning milk the peasants press at night;
Their evening meal before the rising light
To market bear; or sparingly they steep
With seasoning salt, and, stored, for Winter keep.

THE CARE OF DOGS; WATCH-DOGS; DOGS OF CHASE.
Nor, last, forget thy faithful dogs: but feed
With fattening whey the mastiff's generous breed ;
And Spartan race who, for the fold's relief,
Will prosecute with cries the nightly thief:
Repulse the prowling wolf, and hold at bay
The mountain robbers, rushing to their prey.
With cries of hounds, thou mayst pursue the fear
Of flying hares, and chase the fallow deer;
Rouse from their desert dens the bristled rage
Of boars, and beamy stags in toils engage.

HOW TO EXPEL SNAKES, ETC.-KILLING A SNAKE.

With smoke of burning cedar scent thy walls; And fume with stinking galbanum thy stalls: With that rank odor from thy dwelling-place [race. To drive the viper's brood, and all the venomed For often under stalls, unmoved, they lie, Obscure in shades, and shunning heaven's broad eye; And snakes, familiar, to the hearth succeed, Disclose their eggs, and near the chimney breed. Whether to roofy houses they repair, Or sun themselves abroad in open air, In all abodes, of pestilential kind To sheep and oxen, and the painful hind. Take, shepherd, take a plant of stubborn oak, And labor him with many a sturdy stroke; Or, with hard stones, demolish from afar His haughty crest, the seat of all the war : Invade his hissing throat, and winding spires, Till, stretched in length, th' unfolded foe retires. He drags his tail, and for his head provides; And in some secret cranny slowly glides; [sides. But leaves exposed to blows his back and battered

THE CALABRIAN SNAKE; SHEDDING HIS SKIN. In fair Calabria's woods a snake is bred, With curling crest, and with advancing head: Waving he rolls, and makes a winding track; His belly spotted, burnished is his back. While springs are broken, while the southern air And dropping heavens the moistened earth repair, He lives on standing lakes, and trembling bogs; He fills his maw with fish, or with loquacious frogs. But when in muddy pools the water sinks, And the chapped earth is furrowed o'er with chinks, He leaves the fens, and leaps upon the ground, And, hissing, rolls his glaring eyes around. With thirst inflamed, impatient of the heats, He rages in the fields, and wide destruction threats.

O, let not sleep my closing eyes invade

In open plains, or in the secret shade,

When he, renewed in all the speckled pride
Of pompous youth, has cast his slough aside,
And in his summer livery rolls along,
Erect, and brandishing his forky tongue,
Leaving his nest and his imperfect young;
And, thoughtless of his eggs, forgets to rear
The hopes of poison for the following year.

SICKNESSES OF SHEEP AND THE REMEDIES. THE SCAB.

The causes and the signs shall next be told, Of every sickness that infects the fold. A scabby tetter on their pelts will stick, When the raw rain has pierced them to the quick; Or searching frosts have eaten through the skin; Or burning icicles are lodged within; Or when the fleece is shorn, if sweat remains Unwashed, and soaks into their empty veins ; When their defenceless limbs the brambles tear, Shorn of their wool, and naked from the shear.

Good shepherds after shearing drench their sheep, And their flock's father (forced from high to leap) Swims down the stream, and plunges in the deep. They oint their naked limbs with mothered oil; Or from the founts where living sulphurs boil, They mix a medicine to foment their limbs ; With scum that on the molten silver swims. Fat pitch, and black bitumen, add to these, Besides, the waxen labor of the bees; And hellebore, and squills deep rooted in the seas. Receipts abound; but, searching all thy store, The best is still at hand, to lance the sore, And cut the head; for, till the core be found, The secret vice is fed, and gathers ground; While making fruitless moan the shepherd stands, And, when the lancing knife requires his hands, Vain help, with idle prayers, from heaven demands.

FEVERS, MURRAIN, ETC.

Deep in their bones when fevers fix their seat, And rack their limbs, and lick the vital heat; The ready cure to cool the raging pain, Is underneath the foot to breathe a vein. This remedy the Scythian shepherds found: The inhabitants of Thracia's hilly ground, The Gelons use it, when for drink and food They mix their curdled milk with horses' blood. But when thou seest a single sheep remain In shades aloof, or couched upon the plain; Or listlessly to crop the tender grass; Or late to lag behind, with truant pace; Revenge the crime, and take the traitor's head, Ere in the faultless flock the dire contagion spread. On winter seas we fewer storms behold, Than foul diseases that infect the fold. Nor do those ills on single bodies prey; But oftener bring the nation to decay, And sweep the present stock and future hope away.

AN EPIDEMIC DISEASE AMONG CATTLE, ETC., IN SWITZERLAND, DESCRIBED.

A dire example of this truth appears : When, after such a length of rolling years,

We see the naked Alps, and thin remains
Of scattered cots, and yet unpeopled plains:
Once filled with grazing flocks, the shepherds happy
reigns.

Here, from the vicious air and sickly skies,
A plague did on the dumb creation rise:
During the autumnal heats the infection grew,
Tame cattle and the beasts of nature slew ;
Poisoning the standing lakes, and pools impure ;
Nor was the foodful grass in fields secure.
Strange death! for when the thirsty fire had drunk
Their vital blood, and the dry nerves were shrunk ;
When the contracted limbs were cramped, ev'n then
A wat'rish humor swelled and oozed again :
Converting into bane the kindly juice,
Ordained by nature for a better use.

The victor horse, forgetful of his food, The palm renounces, and abhors the flood. He paws the ground, and on his hanging ears A doubtful sweat in clammy drops appears: Parched is his hide, and rugged are his hairs. Such are the symptoms of the young disease; But in time's process, when his pains increase, He rolls his mournful eyes, he deeply groans With patient sobbing, and with manly moans. He heaves for breath; which from his lungs supplied, And fetched from far, distends his laboring side. To his rough palate his dry tongue succeeds; And ropy gore he from his nostrils bleeds. A drench of wine has with success been used, And through a horn the generous juice infused : Which timely taken oped his closing jaws ; But, if too late, the patient's death did cause. For the too-vigorous dose too fiercely wrought; And added fury to the strength it brought. Recruited into rage, he grinds his teeth In his own flesh, and feeds approaching death. Ye gods, to better fate good men dispose, And turn that impious error on our foes!

THE EFFECTS OF THE EPIDEMIC ON THE STEER.

The steer, who to the yoke was bred to bow,
Studious of tillage and the crooked plough,
Falls down and dies; and dying spews a flood
Of foamy madness, mixed with clotted blood.
The clown, who, cursing Providence, repines,
His mournful fellow from the team disjoins ;
With many a groan forsakes his fruitless care,
And in the unfinished furrow leaves the share.
The pining steer no shades of lofty woods
Nor flowery meads can ease; nor crystal floods
Rolled from the rock his flabby flanks decrease;
His eyes are settled in a stupid peace.

His bulk too weighty for his thighs is grown;
And his unwieldy neck hangs drooping down.
Now what avails his well-deserving toil,
To turn the glebe, or smooth the rugged soil!
And yet he never supped in solemn state,
Nor undigested feasts did urge his fate;
Nor day to night luxuriously did join;
Nor surfeited on rich Campanian wine.
Simple his beverage, homely was his food;
The wholesome herbage, and the running flood;
No dreadful dreams awaked him with affright;
His pains by day secured his rest by night.

A SCARCITY OF OXEN OCCASIONED BY THE EPIDEMIC; ITS
EFFECTS ON WOLVES, DEER, FISH, SEALS, SNAKES, BIRDS.

"T was then that buffaloes, ill-paired, were seen
To draw the car of Jove's imperial queen,
For want of oxen; and the laboring swain
Scratched with a rake a furrow for his grain :
And covered, with his hand, the shallow seed again.
He yokes himself, and, up the hilly height,
With his own shoulders draws the wagon's weight.
The nightly wolf, that round the enclosure prowled,
To leap the fence, now plots not on the fold-
Tamed with a sharper pain: the fearful doe
And flying stag amidst the greyhounds go; [foe.
And round the dwellings roam of man, their fiercer
The scaly nations of the sea profound
Like shipwrecked carcasses are driven aground:
And mighty phocæ, never seen before
In shallow streams, are stranded on the shore.
The viper dead within her hole is found;
Defenceless was the shelter of the ground.
The water-snake, whom fish and paddocks fed,
With staring scales, lies poisoned in his bed:
The birds their native heavens contagious prove,
From clouds they fall, and leave their souls above.
THE DOCTORS' SKILL VAIN; TISIPHONE, THE FURY, TRIUMPH-
ANT; THE CARCASSES.

Besides, to change their pasture 't is in vain ;
Or trust to physic; physic is their bane.
The learned leaches in despair depart;
And shake their heads, desponding of their art.
Tisiphone, let loose from under ground,
Majestically pale, now treads the round;
Before her drives diseases, and affright;
And every moment rises to the sight:

Aspiring to the skies, encroaching on the light.
The rivers, and their banks, and hills around,
With lowings, and with dying bleats, resound.
At length, she strikes an universal blow;
To death at once whole herds of cattle go:
Sheep, oxen, horses, fall; and, heaped on high,
The differing species in confusion lie.

Till, warned by frequent ills, the way they found
To lodge their loathsome carrion under ground;
For useless to the currier were their hides;
Nor could their tainted flesh with ocean tides
Be freed from filth; nor could Vulcanian flame
The stench abolish, or the savor tame.
Nor safely could they shear their fleecy store,
Made drunk with poisonous juice, and stiff with

gore,

Or touch the web; but if the vest they wear,
Red blisters rising on their paps appear,
And flaming carbuncles, and noisome sweat,
And clammy dews, that loathsome lice beget;
Till the slow creeping evil eats his way, [prey.
Consumes the parching limbs, and makes the life his

BOOK IV.

ARGUMENT.

Virgil has taken care to raise the subject of each Georgic. In the first he has only dead matter on which to work. In the second he just steps on the world of life, and describes that degree of it which is to be found in vegetables. In the third he advances to animals. And in the last singles out the bee, which may be reckoned the most sagacious of animals, for his subject.

In this Georgic he shows us what station is most proper for the bees, and when they begin to gather honey: how to call them home when they swarm; and how to part them when they are engaged in battle. From hence he takes occasion to discover their different kinds; and, after an excursion, relates their prudent and politic administration of affairs, and the several diseases that often rage in their hives, with the proper symptoms and remedies of each disease. In the last place, he lays down a method of repairing their kind, supposing their whole breed lost, and gives at large the history of its invention.

THE SUBJECT-BEES.

The gifts of heaven my following song pursues, Aerial honey, and ambrosial dews. Mæcenas, read this other part, that sings Embattled squadrons and adventurous kings; A mighty pomp, though made of little things. Their arms, their arts, their manners, I disclose, And how they war, and whence the people rose : Slight is the subject, but the praise not small, If heaven assist, and Phoebus hear my call.

THE BEST LOCATION FOR BEES; AWAY FROM COWS, GOATS, LIZARDS, BIRDS, AS THE TITMOUSE, WOODPECKER, SWALLOW NEAR A BROOK.

First, for thy bees a quiet station find, And lodge them under covert of the wind: For winds, when homeward they return, will drive The loaded carriers from their evening hive. Far from the cows and goats, insulting crew, That trample down the flowers, and brush the dew:

The painted lizard, and the birds of prey,
Foes of the frugal kind, be far away.
The titmouse, and the pecker's hungry brood,
And Progne, with her bosom stained in blood :
These rob the trading citizens, and bear
The trembling captives through the liquid air,
And for their callow young a cruel feast prepare.
But near a living stream their mansion place,
Edged round with moss, and tufts of matted grass :
And plant (the winds' impetuous rage to stop)
Wild olive-trees, or palms, before the busy shop.
That when the youthful prince, with proud alarm,
Calls out the venturous colony to swarm;
When first their way through yielding air they wing,
New to the pleasures of their native spring;
The banks of brooks may make a cool retreat
For the raw soldiers from the scalding heat:
And neighboring trees, with friendly shade, invite
The troops, unused to long laborious flight.

RESTING PLACES NEEDED ON THE WATER; SWEET HERBS ; THYME, SAVORY, ROSEMARY.

Then o'er the running stream, or standing lake, A passage for thy weary people make; With osier floats the standing water strew; Of massy stones make bridges, if it flow: That basking in the sun thy bees may lie, And resting there their flaggy pinions dry; When late returning home, the laden host By raging winds is wrecked upon the coast. Wild thyme and savory set around their cell; Sweet to the taste, and fragrant to the smell; Set rows of rosemary with flowering stem, And let thy purple violets drink the stream.

HOW TO MAKE A BEEHIVE.

Whether thou build the palace of thy bees
With twisted osiers, or with barks of trees;
Make but a narrow mouth for as the cold
Congeals into a lump the liquid gold;
So 't is again dissolved by summer's heat,
And the sweet labors both extremes defeat.
And, therefore, not in vain the industrious kind
With dauby wax and flowers the chinks have lined.
And, with their stores of gathered glue, contrive
To stop the vents and crannies of their hive.
Not bird-lime, or Idean pitch, produce
A more tenacious mass of clammy juice.

WILD BEES' NESTS; VARIOUS CAUTIONS.
Nor bees are lodged in hives alone, but found
In chambers of their own, beneath the ground:
Their vaulted roofs are hung in pumices,
And in the rotten trunks of hollow trees.

But plaster thou the chinky hives with clay,
And leafy branches o'er their lodging lay.
Nor place them where too deep a water flows,
Or where the yew their poisonous neighbor grows;
Nor roast red crabs to offend the niceness of their

nose.

Nor near the steaming stench of muddy ground;

Nor hollow rocks that render back the sound, And doubled images of voice rebound.

HABITS OF BEES IN SPRING; THEIR YOUNG.

For what remains, when golden suns appear, And under earth have driven the winter year: The wingéd nation wanders through the skies, And o'er the plains and shady forest flies; Then stooping on the meads and leafy bowers, They skim the floods, and sip the purple flowers. Exalted hence, and drunk with secret joy, Their young succession all their cares employ : They breed, they brood, instruct and educate, And make provision for the future state; They work their waxen lodgings in their hives, And labor honey to sustain their lives.

But if intestine broils alarm the hive,-
For two pretenders oft for empire strive,
The vulgar in divided factions jar,

And murmuring sounds proclaim the civil war.
Inflamed with ire, and trembling with disdain,
Scarce can their limbs their mighty souls contain.
With shouts, the coward's courage they excite,
And martial clangors call them out to fight:
With hoarse alarms the hollow camp rebounds,
That imitates the trumpet's angry sounds:
Then to their common standard they repair;
The nimble horsemen scour the fields of air.
In form of battle drawn, they issue forth,
And every knight is proud to prove his worth.
Prest for their country's honor, and their king's,
On their sharp beaks they whet their pointed stings,
And exercise their arms, and tremble with their
wings.

Full in the midst the haughty monarchs ride;
The trusty guards come up, and close the side;
With shouts the daring foe to battle is defied.

BEES GOING FORTH TO WAR; THE BATTLE; HOW QUIEted.

Thus, in the season of unclouded Spring, To war they follow their undaunted king: Crowd through their gates, and in the fields of light The shocking squadrons meet in mortal fight: Headlong they fall from high, and wounded wound, And heaps of slaughtered soldiers bite the ground. Hard hailstones lie not thicker on the plain; Nor shaken oaks such showers of acorns rain.

With gorgeous wings, the marks of sovereign sway,
The two contending princes make their way;
Intrepid through the midst of dangers go;
Their friends encourage, and amaze the foe.
With mighty souls in narrow bodies prest,
They challenge, and encounter breast to breast;
So fixed on fame, unknowing how to fly,
And obstinately bent to win or die,
That long the doubtful combat they maintain,
Till one prevails; for only one can reign.
Yet all those dreadful deeds, this deadly fray,
A cast of scattered dust will soon allay,
And undecided leave the fortune of the day.
When both the chiefs are sundered from the fight,
Then to the lawful king restore his right.
And let the wasteful prodigal be slain,
That he who best deserves alone may reign.

HOW TO KNOW THE TRUE KING AND BEST RACE.

With ease distinguished is the regal race; One monarch wears an honest open face; Shaped to his size, and godlike to behold, His royal body shines with specks of gold, And ruddy scales; for empire he designed, Is better born, and of a nobler kind. That other looks like nature in disgrace, Gaunt are his sides, and sullen is his face : And like their grisly prince appears his gloomy race: Grim, ghastly, rugged, like a thirsty train That long have travelled through a desert plain, And spit from their dry chaps the gathered dust The better brood, unlike the bastard crew, [again. Are marked with royal streaks of shining hue; Glittering and ardent, though in body less : From these at 'pointed seasons hope to press Huge, heavy honeycombs, of golden juice, Not only sweet, but pure, and fit for use: To allay the strength and hardness of the wine, And with old Bacchus new metheglin join.

HOW TO RECALL BEES FROM IDLING.

But when the swarms are eager of their play, And loathe their empty hives, and idly stray, Restrain the wanton fugitives, and take A timely care to bring the truants back. The task is easy, but to clip the wings Of their high-flying, arbitrary kings: At their command the people swarm away; Confine the tyrant, and the slaves will stay. Sweet gardens, full of saffron flowers, invite The wandering gluttons, and retard their flight. Besides, the god obscene, who frights away With his lath sword the thieves and birds of prey, With his own hand, the guardian of the bees, For slips of pines may search the mountain trees; And with wild thyme and savory plant the plain, Till his hard, horny fingers ache with pain; And deck with fruitful trees the fields around, And with refreshing waters drench the ground.