Page:Virgil - The Georgics, Thomas Nevile, 1767.djvu/91

 Book III. Lur'd by wool's snowy softness from the plain

To the thick grove he call'd, nor call'd in vain.

But milk who covets, Cytisus must bring;

And in their cribs salt herbs and lotus fling:

Hence thirst for water, hence their dugs distend;

And to their milk a briny taste they lend.

Some from the dams withdraw grown kids, and fix

Close to their noses thongs set round with pricks.

What they at morn have milk'd, and what by day,

All night is prest; what at Sol's setting ray,

And dusk of eve, is carry'd by the clown

At early dawn in vessels to the town,

Or sparingly with salt is sprinkled o'er,

And for the wintry season kept in store.

Nor dogs despise; but with whey's richness feed

Swift Spartan whelps, and fierce Molossian breed:

Guarded by these your fold no wolves affright,

Th' insidious Spaniard, nor the thief by night.

To rouse wild asses with your dogs you'll go,

Trace the fleet hare, and urge the timid doe:

Oft with your hounds' loud howlings will you chace,

Driv'n from their dirty dens, the tusky race;

Or o'er steep mountains with tumultuous cries

Press to the toils some stag of mighty size.

Per-