Page:The Art of Preserving Health - A Poem in Four Books.djvu/51

B. II.
 * Far in the horrid realms of winter, where

Th' establish'd ocean heaps a monstrous waste Of shining rocks and mountains to the pole; There lives a hardy race, whose plainest wants Relentless earth, their cruel step-mother, Regards not.On the waste of iron fields, Untam'd, untractable, no harvests wave: Pomona hates them, and the clownish God Who tends the garden. In this frozen world Such cooling gifts were vain: a fitter meal Is earn'd with ease; for here the fruitful spawn Of Ocean swarms, and heaps their genial board With generous fare and luxury profuse. These are their bread, the only bread they know; These, and their willing slave the deer, that crops The shrubby herbage on their meager hills. Girt by the burning zone, not thus the south Her swarthy sons, in either Ind, maintains: Rh