Page:Virgil - The Georgics, Thomas Nevile, 1767.djvu/66

 54 But should these arduous longings be represt,

Life's chilly stream scarce creeping in my breast,

May rural scenes, thro' meads rills sparkling please,

And woods, and rivers, in inglorious ease;

Where plains are seen, and Sperchius' winding wave,

And the proud hill, where Spartan virgins rave:

In Hæmus' cooly vales, O! were I laid,

Screen'd by the sweep of some high-arching shade!

Happy the Man, whose penetrating mind

Of things the latent causes first could find,

He, who all terrors, ruthless Fate could quell,

And the dire din of all-devouring Hell!

Blest too, who knew the Gods, that haunt the plain,

Pan, old Sylvanus, and the Dryad train;

Unmov'd by purple pride, the rods of state,

Or faithless brethren rous'd to mutual hate,

Or Rome, or kingdoms sinking to decay,

Or from leagu'd Ister his restless way

The Dacian bursting: nor for others' store

Fed he a wish, or sorrow'd for the poor.

The boughs he lighten'd of their luscious load,

And pull'd the fruits, the willing fields bestow'd:

Stranger to strife he felt no griping law,

Nor the mad rabble of the Forum saw. Some