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New cares the corn pursu❜d: here mildew fed,
There thistles rear'd aloft their horrent head:
The harvest perishes; with prickles crown'd,
The burr and caltrop bristle all around:
Their baleful growth wild oats and darnel rear,
And tower in triumph o'er the golden ear.
Haste then; the earth with restless harrow wear,
With ceaseless shout the feather'd plunderers scare,
Lop each o'ershadowing branch with timely stroke,
And genial showers from favoring heaven invoke,
Or thou, on crops not thine, shalt gaze in vain,
And, fed from shaken oaks, sad life sustain.

Now learn what arms industrious peasants wield,
To sow the furrow'd glebe, and clothe the field:
The share, the crooked plough, the rolling wain
That drags along slow Ceres to her fane :
Hurdle, and sled, and harrow's heavy load,
And mystic van the symbol of a God.

These wise provide, if aught of rural fame,
Or labours lov'd of heaven, thy breast inflame.
Form'd for the crooked plough, by force subdu❜d,
Bend the tough elm yet green amid the wood:
Beyond eight feet in length the beam extend,
With double back the pointed share defend,
Double the earth-boards that the glebe divide,
And cast the furrow'd ridge on either side;
But light the polish'd yoke of linden bough,
And light the beechen staff that turns the plough.

These long suspend where smoke their strength explores,

And seasons into use, and binds their

pores.

Nor thou the rules, our fathers taught, despise,
Sires by long practice and tradition wise.

With ponderous roller smooth the level floor,
And bind with chalky cement o'er and o'er ;
Lest springing weeds expose thy want of art,
And worn in many a chink the surface part:
There builds the field-mouse underneath the ground,
And loads her little barns with plunder crown'd;
There works the mole along her dark abode,
There in its hollow lurks the lonely toad,
There wastes the weevil with insatiate rage,
There the wise ant that dreads the wants of age,
And all the nameless monsters of the soil,

That swarm and fatten on thy gather'd spoil.
With many a bud if flowering almonds bloom,
And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume,
So shall thy harvest like profusion yield,

And cloudless suns mature the fertile field:
But if the branch, in pomp of leaf array'd,
Diffuse a vain exuberance of shade,
So fails the promise of th' expected year,
And chaff and straw defraud the golden ear.
Though steep'd in nitrous juice and oily lees,
And seeth'd o'er gentle fires by slow degrees,
Oft have I seen the temper'd seeds deceive,
And o'er the treacherous pod the peasant grieve:

Save where slow patience, o'er and o'er again,
Cull'd yearly, one by one, the largest grain;
So all, forc'd back by Fate's resistless sway,
To swift destruction falls and sad decay.
Thus, if th' unwearied oar, that boldly plied
By ceaseless struggles scarcely stemm'd the tide,
Once, once relax, wild eddies onward sweep,
And whirl the wretch amid th' o'erwhelming deep.
Nor less intent Arcturus' train behold,

The Kid's bright beams, and Dragon's lucid fold,
Than the bold crew that sweep the Euxine o'er,
And through Abydos seek their native shore.

When poising Libra rest and labour weighs, And parts with equal balance nights and days, Goad, goad the steer, the barley seed enclose, Till winter binds the ground in dead repose. When dry the glebe, beneath the genial earth Hide the young flax, and poppy's future birth, And urge the harrow while the clouds impend, And tempests gather, ere the rains descend.

When Taurus' golden horns the year unbar, And Sirius" 'gins to pale" his yielding star, Then beans and lucerne claim the mellow soil, And millet springing from the yearly toil.

But if thy labour from the cultur'd plain

Exact rich wheat, strong spelt, and bearded grain, Trust not the furrow, nor with lavish haste

The promise of the year untimely waste,

Before the Pleiads from the dawn retire,

Or Ariadne gleams with matin fire.

Swains, who, ere Maia sets, cast forth the seed,
Mourn o'er delusive crops their fruitless speed.
But if Pelusian lentils clothe the plain,
Nor thou th' unvalued bean and vetch disdain,
Wait till Boòtes' lingering beams descend,
And 'mid hoar frosts thy patient toil extend.
For this the golden sun the earth divides,

And, wheel'd thro' twelve bright signs, his chariot guides.
Five zones the heaven surround: the centre glows
With fire unquench'd, and suns without repose:
At each extreme the poles in tempest tost
Dark with thick showers and unremitting frost:
Between the poles and blazing zone confin'd
Lie climes to feeble man by heaven assign'd.
'Mid these the signs their course obliquely run,
And star the figur❜d belt that binds the sun.
High as at Scythian cliffs the world ascends,
Thus low at Libyan plains its circle bends.
Here heaven's bright lustre gilds our glowing pole,
There gloomy Styx, and Hell's deep shadows roll :
Here the huge Snake in many a volume glides,
Winds like a stream, and either Bear divides,
The Bears that dread their flaming lights to lave,
And slowly roll above the ocean wave.

There night, eternal night, and silence sleep,
And gathering darkness broods upon the deep:

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Or from our clime, when fades the orient ray,
There bright Aurora beams returning day :
And when above Sol's fiery coursers glow,
Late Vesper lights his evening star below.

Experience hence the doubtful storm divines,
Seed-time and harvest marks by prescient signs;
When, best with cautious hand along the shore
In treacherous seas to ply the guardian oar,
Or launch the freighted navy 'mid the flood,
Or fell the season'd pine that crown'd the wood.
Thus observation reads the starry sphere,
And fourfold parts, as seasons change, the year.
Th'industrious peasants, shelter'd from the shower,
To timely profit turn each leisure hour;
Mature the works that tire th' impatient hand,
When fairer skies far other cares demand;

Scoop troughs from trees, or mark each hoarded heap,
Or head the two-horn'd forks, or brand the sheep;

Point the sharp stake, or edge the blunted share,
For flexile vines the willowy wreath prepare,

Light baskets weave with pliant osier twin'd,

Now parch the grain, and now with millstones grind.
E'en 'mid high feasts to holy leisure giv'n

Earth claim's a part nor fears offended Heav'n.
Go forth; the Gods permit, thy ditches drain,
Fire the wild thorns, and fence the rising grain,
Ensnare the plundering birds, and timely lave
The bleating flock beneath the wholesome wave:

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