Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/242

98 But sweet Vicissitudes of Rest and Toyl Make easy Labour, and renew the Soil. Yet sprinkle sordid Ashes all around, And load with fat'ning Dung thy fallow Ground. Thus change of Seeds for meagre Soils is best; And Earth manur'd, not idle, though at rest. Long Practice has a sure Improvement found, With kindled Fires to burn the barren Ground; When the light Stubble, to the Flames resign'd, Is driv'n along, and crackles in the Wind. Whether from hence the hollow Womb of Earth Is warm'd with secret Strength for better Birth, Or when the latent Vice is cur'd by Fire, Redundant Humours thro' the Pores expire; Or that the Warmth distends the Chinks, and makes New Breathings, whence new Nourishment she takes; Or that the Heat the gaping Ground constrains, New Knits the Surface, and new Strings the Veins; Lest soaking Show'rs shou'd pierce her secret Seat, Or freezing Boreas chill her genial Heat; Or scorching Suns too violently beat. Nor is the Profit small, the Peasant makes; Who smooths with Harrows, or who pounds with Rakes The crumbling Clods: Nor Ceres from on high Regards his Labours with a grudging Eye; Nor his, who plows across the furrow'd Grounds, And on the Back of Earth inflicts new Wounds: