« EelmineJätka »
EGE sub hac Pomona fuit: qua nulla La
A N D
Ρ Ο Μ Ο Ν Α.
HE fair Pomona flourish'd in his reign;
Of all the Virgins of the sylvan train,
Nec patitur sentire sitim : bibulaeque recurvas 15
Now sliding streams the thirsty plants renew, 15 And feed their fibres with reviving dew.
These cares alone her virgin breast employ, Averse from Venus and the nuptial joy. Her private orchards, wall’d on ev'ry side, To lawless sylvans all access deny'd. How oft the Satyrs and the wanton Fawns, Who haunt the forests, or frequent the lawns, The God whose ensign scares the birds of prey, And old Silenus, youthful in decay, Employ'd their wiles, and unavailing care, To pass the fences, and surprize the fair ? Like these, Vertumnus own'd his faithful flame, Like these, rejected by the fcornful dame. To gain her fight a thousand forms he wears ; And first a reaper from the field appears, 30 Sweating he walks, while loads of golden grain O’ercharge the shoulders of the seeming 'swain. Oft o'er his back a crooked scythe is laid, And wreaths of hay his sun-burnt temples shade : Oft in his harden'd hand a goad he bears,
35 Like one who late unyok'd the sweating steers. Sometimes his pruning-hook corrects the vines, And the loose stragglers to their ranks confines, Vol. II.