Page:Virgil - The Georgics, Thomas Nevile, 1767.djvu/33

 Book I. Then scarce the waves forbear the crooked ship,

When from the middle of the surgy deep

Speed the swift Corm'rants screaming to the strand,

And sooty sea-coots gambol on the sand;

And herons, quitting their known marshes fly

Above the clouds, high-soaring in the sky.

Oft, wind impending, sudden to the sight

The stars shoot headlong from th' ethereal height,

Leaving behind long trails of light, that shine

Thro' night's gloom, dreaming in a silv'ry line.

Oft fluttering feathers on the pool's top play,

And chaff and falling foliage flit away.

But when from Boreas' quarter lightnings fly,

And East and West with thunders rend the sky,

O'er all the floated region foaming sweep

The dikes, and ev'ry sailor in the deep

Furls his wet sails: unwarn'd none rues the rain;

Either the cranes, who wing th' aerial plain,

Have shun'd it from the low vales, as it rose;

Or heifer, with look lifted and curl'd nose,

Snuffd the dank vapours; or with twitt'ring sound

O'er the lake's brim the swallow took her round;

Or, at the show'r's approach the croaking throng

Tun'd in the mud their melancholy song. Oft