Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/316

152 The Pains of famisht Tantalus shall feel; And Sisyphus that labours up the Hill The rowling Rock in vain; and curst Ixion's Wheel. Mean time we must pursue the Sylvan Lands; (Th' abode of Nymphs,) untouch'd by former Hands: For such, Mecænas, are thy hard Commands. Without thee nothing lofty can I sing; Come then, and with thy self thy Genius bring: With which inspir'd, I brook no dull delay. Cytheron loudly calls me to my way; Thy Hounds, Taygetus, open and pursue their Prey. High Epidaurus urges on my speed, Fam'd for his Hills, and for his Horses breed: From Hills and Dales the chearful Cries rebound: For Echo hunts along; and propagates the sound. A time will come, when my maturer Muse, In Cæsar's Wars, a Nobler Theme shall chuse. And through more Ages bear my Soveraign's Praise; Than have from Tithon past to Cæsar's Days. The Generous Youth, who studious of the Prize, The Race of running Coursers multiplies; Or to the Plough the sturdy Bullock breeds, May know that from the Dam the worth of each proceeds: The Mother Cow must wear a low'ring look, Sour headed, strongly neck'd, to bear the Yoke. Her double Dew-lap from her Chin descends: And at her Thighs the pondrous burthen ends.