Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/368

192 When once in Beds their weary Limbs they steep, No buzzing Sounds disturb thir Golden Sleep. Tis sacred Silence all. Nor dare they stray, When Rain is promis'd, or a stormy Day: But near the City Walls their Watring take, Nor Forrage far, but short Excursions make. And as when empty Barks on Billows float, With sandy Ballast Sailors trim the Boat; So Bees bear Gravel Stones, whose poising Weight Steers thro' the whistling Winds their steddy Flight. But what's more strange, their modest Appetites, Averse from Venus, fly the Nuptial Rites. No lust enervates their Heroic Mind, Nor wasts their Strength on wanton Woman-Kind. But in their Mouths reside their Genial Pow'rs, They gather Children from the Leaves and Flow'rs. Thus make they Kings to fill the Regal Seat; And thus their little Citizens create: And waxen Cities build, and Palaces of State. And oft on Rocks their tender Wings they tear, And sink beneath the Burthens which they bear. Such Rage of Honey in their Bosom beats: And such a Zeal they have for flow'ry Sweets. Thus tho' the race of Life they quickly run; Which in the space of seven short Years is done, Th' immortal Line in sure Succession reigns, The Fortune of the Family remains: And Grandsires Grandsons the long List contains. Rh