Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/347

Geor. III. Deep in their Bones when Feavers fix their seat, And rack their Limbs; and lick the vital heat; The ready Cure to cool the raging Pain, Is underneath the Foot to breath a Vein. This remedy the Scythian Shepherds found: Th' Inhabitants of Thracia's hilly Ground, And Gelons use it; when for Drink and Food They mix their cruddl'd Milk with Horses Blood. But where thou seest a single Sheep remain In Shades aloof, or couch'd upon the Plain; Or listlesly to crop the tender Grass; Or late to lag behind, with truant pace; Revenge the Crime; and take the Traytor's head, E'er in the faultless Flock the dire Contagion spread. On Winter Seas we fewer Storms behold, Than foul Diseases that infect the Fold. Nor do those ills, on single Bodies prey; But oft'ner bring the Nation to decay; And sweep the present Stock, and future Hope away. A dire Example of this Truth appears: When, after such a length of rowling Years, We see the naked Alps, and thin Remains Of scatter'd Cotts, and yet unpeopl'd Plains: Once fill'd with grazing Flocks, the Shepherds happy Reigns. Here from the vicious Air, and sickly Skies, A Plague did on the dumb Creation rise: During th' Autumnal Heats th' Infection grew, Tame Cattle, and the Beasts of Nature slew.