Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/364

188 With his own hand, the Guardian of the Bees, For Slips of Pines, may search the Mountain Trees: And with wild Thyme and Sav'ry, plant the Plain, Till his hard horny Fingers ake with Pain: And deck with fruitful Trees the Fields around, And with refreshing Waters drench the Ground. Now, did I not so near my Labours end, Strike Sail, and hast'ning to the Harbour tend; My Song to Flow'ry Gardens might extend. To teach the vegetable Arts, to sing The Pæstan Roses, and their double Spring: How Succ'ry drinks the running Streams, and how Green Beds of Parsley near the River grow; How Cucumers along the Surface creep, With crooked Bodies, and with Bellies deep. The late Narcissus, and the winding Trail Of Bears-foot, Myrtles green, and Ivy pale. For where with stately Tow'rs Tarentum stands, And deep Galesus soaks the yellow Sands, I chanc'd an Old Corycian Swain to know, Lord of few Acres, and those barren too; Unfit for Sheep or Vines, and more unfit to sow: Yet lab'ring well his little Spot of Ground, Some scatt'ring Potherbs here and there he found: Which cultivated with his daily Care, And bruis'd with Vervain, were his frugal Fare. Sometimes white Lyllies did their Leaves afford, With wholsom Poppy-flow'rs, to mend his homely Board: