Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/332

166 But time is lost, which never will renew, While we too far the pleasing Path pursue; Surveying Nature, with too nice a view. Let this suffice for Herds: our following Care Shall woolly Flocks, and shaggy Goats declare. Nor can I doubt what Oyl I must bestow, To raise my Subject from a Ground so low: And the mean Matter which my Theme affords, T'embellish with Magnificence of Words. But the commanding Muse my Chariot guides; Which o'er the dubious Cliff securely rides: And pleas'd I am, no beaten Road to take: But first the way to new Discov'ries make. Now, sacred Pales, in a lofty strain, I sing the Rural Honours of thy Reign. First with assiduous care, from Winter keep Well fodder'd in the Stalls, thy tender, Sheep. Then spread with Straw, the bedding of thy Fold; With Fern beneath, to fend the bitter Cold. That free from Gouts thou may'st preserve thy Care: And clear from Scabs, produc'd by freezing Air. Next let thy Goats officiously be nurs'd; And led to living Streams; to quench their Thirst. Feed 'em with Winter-brouze, and for their lare A Cot that opens to the South prepare: Where basking in the Sun-shine they may lye, And the short Remnants of his Heat enjoy.