Page:Virgil - The Georgics, Thomas Nevile, 1767.djvu/61

 Book II. And the sheep nibble, and the kine devour:

Not half so harmful is the piercing pow'r

Of hoary frosts, or summer's scorching heat,

When on dry rocks the solar fervours beat,

As the sharp venom of the browsing kind,

And the deep scar imprinted on the rind.

For this to Bacchus bleeds the goat, and Plays

Assume the buskin'd pomp of ancient days:

The sons of Theseus to contending Bards,

Decreed in towns and public ways rewards,

And in mad mood with many a sportive bound

Leap'd on oil'd bags along the grassy ground.

Th' Ausonians too, a colony of Troy,

In uncouth metre give a loose to joy:

In hideous masks of hollow'd bark the throng

Invoke thee, Bacchus, in the festal song,

And hang for thee with images the pine:

Hence with full produce swells the bloomy vine;

With purple harvests vallies, lawns abound,

Where'er the God has turn'd his visage round.

To Bacchus' praise then hymns of honour sing

In custom'd verse, and cakes and chargers bring;

Before the altar lead the goat, and there

On hazel spits the hallow'd feast prepare.

Yet