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In vain he burns, like hasty stubble fires,
And in himself, his former self requires.
His age and courage weigh; nor those alone;
But note his father's virtues and his own:
Observe, if he disdains to yield the prize,
Of loss impatient, proud of victories.

Hast thou beheld, when from the goal they

start,

The youthful charioteers with heaving heart
Rush to the race; and panting, scarcely bear
Th' extremes of fev'rish hope and chilling fear;
Stoop to the reins, and lash with all their force?
The flying chariot kindles in the course:
And now alow, and now aloft they fly,
As borne through air, and seem to touch the sky.
No stop, no stay: but clouds of sand arise,
Spurn'd, and cast backward on the followers'

eyes.

The hindmost blows the foam upon the first :
Such is the love of praise, an honourable thirst.
Bold Ericthonius was the first who join'd
Four horses for the rapid race design'd,
And o'er the dusty wheels presiding sate:
The Lapithæ, to chariots, add the state
Of bits and bridles; taught the steed to bound,
To run the ring, and trace the mazy round;
To stop, to fly, the rules of war to know;
T'obey the rider, and to dare the foe.

To choose a youthful steed with courage fir'd, To breed him, break him, back him, are requir'd

Experienc'd masters; and in sundry ways,
Their labours equal, and alike their praise.
But, once again, the batter'd horse beware:
The weak old stallion will deceive thy care,
Though famous in his youth for force and speed,
Or was of Argos or Epirian breed,

Or did from Neptune's race, or from himself proceed.

These things premis'd, when now the nuptial time

Approaches for the stately steed to climb,
With food enable him to make his court;
Distend his chine, and pamper him for sport:
Feed him with herbs, whatever thou canst find,
Of gen'rous warmth, and of salacious kind:
Then water him, and (drinking what he can)
Encourage him to thirst again, with bran.
Instructed thus, produce him to the fair,
And join in wedlock to the longing mare.
For, if the sire be faint, or out of case,
He will be copied in his famish'd race,
And sink beneath the pleasing task assign'd
(For all's too little for the craving kind.)
As for the females, with industrious care
Take down their mettle; keep them lean and

bare:

When conscious of their past delight, and keen To take the leap, and prove the sport again,

With scanty measure then supply their food;
And, when athirst, restrain them from the flood;
Their bodies harass; sink them when they run;
And fry their melting marrow in the sun.
Starve them, when barns beneath their burden
groan,

And winnow'd chaff by western winds is blown:
For fear the rankness of the swelling womb
Should scant the passage, and confine the room;
Lest the fat furrows should the sense destroy
Of genial lust, and dull the seat of joy.
But let them suck the seed with greedy force,
And close involve the vigour of the horse.

The male has done: thy care must now
proceed

To teeming females, and the promis'd breed.
First let them run at large, and never know
The taming yoke, or draw the crooked plough..
Let them not leap the ditch, or swim the flood,
Or lumber o'er the meads, or cross the wood;
But range the forest, by the silver side
Of some cool stream, where Nature shall pro--
vide

Green grass, and fatt'ning clover for their fare,
And mossy caverns for their noontide lair,
With rocks above, to shield the sharp nocturnal
air.

About th' Alburnian groves, with holly green, Of winged insects, mighty swarms are seen: This flying plague (to mark its quality) Estros the Grecians call-Asylus, weA fierce loud buzzing breeze.-Their stings draw blood,

And drive the cattle gadding through the wood. Seiz'd with unusual pains, they loudly cry: Tanagrus hastens thence, and leaves his chan

nel dry.

This curse the jealous Juno did invent,
And first employ'd for Io's punishment.
To shun this ill, the cunning leach ordains,
In summer's sultry heats (for then it reigns,)
To feed the females ere the sun arise,
Or late at night, when stars adorn the skies.
When she has calv'd, then set the dam asid:
And for the tender progeny provide.
Distinguish all betimes with branding fire,
To note the tribe, the lineage, and the sire;
Whom to reserve for husband for the herd;
Or who shall be to sacrifice preferr'd;
Or whom thou shalt to turn thy glebe allow,
To smooth the furrows, and sustain the plough
The rest, for whom no lot is yet decreed,
May run in pastures, and at pleasure feed.
The calf, by nature and by genius made
To turn the glebe, breed to the rural trade.
Set him betimes to school; and let him be
Instructed there in rules of husbandry,
While yet his youth is flexible and green,
Nor bad examples of the world has seen.

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Ere the licentious youth be thus restrain'd,
Or moral precepts on their minds have gain'd,
Their wanton appetites not only feed
With delicates of leaves, and marshy weed,
But with thy sickle reap the rankest land,
And minister the blade with bounteous hand:
Nor be with harmful parsimony won
To follow what our homely sires have done,
Who fill'd the pail with beastings of the cow;
But all her udder to the calf allow.

If to the warlike steed thy studies bend,
Or for the prize in chariots to contend,
Near Pisa's flood the rapid wheels to guide,
Or in Olympian groves aloft to ride,
The gen'rous labours of the coursers, first,

Or bred to Belgian wagons, leads the way, Untir'd at night, and cheerful all the day. When once he's broken, feed him full and high;

Indulge his growth, and his gaunt sides supply.
Before his training, keep him poor and low;
For his stout stomach with his food will grow :
The pamper'd colt will discipline disdain,
Impatient of the lash, and restiff to the reign.
Wouldst thou their courage and their strength
improve?

Too soon they must not feel the stings of love.
Whether the bull or courser be thy care,
Let him not leap the cow, or mount the mare.
The youthful bull must wander in the wood,
Behind the mountain or beyond the flood,
Or in the stall at home his fodder find,
Far from the charms of that alluring kind.
With two fair eyes his mistress burns his breast.
He looks, and languishes, and leaves his rest,
Forsakes his food, and pining for the lass,
Is joyless of the grove, and spurns the growing

grass.

The soft seducer, with enticing looks,
The bellowing rivals to the fight provokes.

A beauteous heifer in the wood is bred:

Must be with sight of arms and sound of The stooping warriors aiming head to head,

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Teach him to run the round, with pride to prance,
And (rightly manag'd) equal time to beat,
To turn, to bound and measure, and curvet.
Let him to this, with easy pains, be brought,
And seem to labour, when he labours not.
Thus form'd for speed, he challenges the wind,
And leaves the Scythian arrow far behind:
He scours along the field, with loosen'd reins,
And treads so light, he scarcely prints the
plains;

Like Boreas in his race, when rushing forth,
He sweeps the skies, and clears the cloudy north,
The waving larvest bends beneath his blast;
The forest shakes; the groves their honours

cast;

He flies aloft, and with impetuous roar
Pursues the foaming surges to the shore.
Thus o'er th' Elean plains, thy well-breath'd
horse

Impels the flying car, and wins the course,

Engage their clashing horns: with dreadful

sound

The forest rattles, and the rocks rebound. They fence, they push, and, pushing, loudly

roar:

Their dew-laps and their sides are bath'd in gore.

Nor, when the war is over, is it peace;
Nor will the vanquish'd bull his claim release;
But feeding in his breast his ancient fires,
And cursing fate, from his proud foe retires.
Driv'n from his native land to foreign grounds,
He with a gen'rous rage resents his wounds,
His ignominious flight, the victor's boast,
And more than both, the loves, which unreveng'd
he lost.

Often he turns his eyes, and with a groan,
Surveys the pleasing kingdoms, once his own;
And therefore to repair his strength he tries,
Hard'ning his limbs with painful exercise;
And rough upon the flinty rock he lies.
On prickly leaves and on sharp herbs he feeds,
Then to the prelude of a war proceeds.
His horns, yet sore, he tries against a tree,
And meditates his absent enemy.
He snuffs the wind; his heels the sand excite
But, when he stands collected in his might,
He roars and promises a more successful fight.
Then, to redeem his honour at a bow
He moves his camp, to meet his careless foe.
Not with more madness, rolling from afar
The spumy waves proclaim the wat'ry war,

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And mounting upwards, with a mighty roar, March onwards, and insult the rocky shore. They mate the middle region with their height, And fall no less than with a mountain's weight; The waters boil, and, belching, from below Black sands, as from a forceful engine throw.

Thus ev'ry creature, and of ev'ry kind, The secret joys of sweet coition find. Not only man's imperial race, but they That wing the liquid air, or swim the sea, Or haunt the desert, rush into the flame: For love is lord of all, and is in all the same.

'Tis with this rage, the mother-lion stung, Scours o'er the plain, regardless of her young: Demanding rites of love, she sternly stalks, And hunts her lover in his lonely walks. 'Tis then the shapeless bear his den forsakes; In woods, and fields, a wild destruction makes; Boars whet their tusks; to battle tigers move, Enrag'd with hunger, more enrag'd with love. Then wo to him, that, in the desert land Of Libya, travels o'er the burning sand! The stallion snuffs the well known scent afar, And snorts and trembles for the distant mare: Nor bits nor bridles can his rage restrain; And rugged rocks are interpos'd in vain : He makes his way o'er mountains, and con

temns

Unruly torrents, and unforded streams.

The bristled boar, who feels the pleasing wound, New grinds his armed tusks, and digs the ground.

The sleepy lecher shuts his little eyes;
About his churning chaps the frothy bubbles
rise :

He rubs his sides against a tree; prepares
And hardens both his shoulders for the wars.
What did the youth, when Love's unerring dart
Transfix'd his liver, and inflam'd his heart?
Alone, by night, his watery way he took :
About him, and above, the billows broke:
The sluices of the sky were open spread;
And rolling thunder rattled o'er his head.
The raging tempest call'd him back in vain,
And ev'ry boding omen of the main :
Nor could his kindred, nor the kindly force
Of weeping parents, change his fatal course;
No, not the dying maid, who must deplore
His floating carcass on the Sestian shore.

I pass the wars that spotted lynxes make With their fierce rivals for the female's sake, The howling wolves', the mastiffs' am'rous rage;

When e'en the fearful stag dares for his hind

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For this, (when Venus gave them rage and pow'r)

Their master's mangled members they devour, Of love defrauded in their longing hour.

For love, they force through thickets of the wood,

They climb the steepy hills, and stem the flood. When, at the spring's approach, their marrow

burns,

(For withthe spring their genial warmth returns) The mares to cliffs of rugged rocks repair, And with wide nostrils snuff the western air: When (wondrous to relate) the parent wind, Without the stallion propagates the kind. Then, fir'd with am'rous rage, they take their flight

Thro' plains, and mount the hills' unequal height;

Nor to the north, nor to the rising sun,
Nor southward to the rainy regions, run,
But boring to the west, and hov'ring there,
With gaping mouths they draw prolific air,
With which impregnate, from their groins they
shed,

A slimy juice, by false conception bred.
The shepherd knows it well, and calls by

name

Hippomanes, to note the mother's flame.
This, gather'd in the planetary hour,
With noxious weeds, and spell'd with words of
pow'r,

Dire stepdames in the magic bowl infuse,
And mix, for deadly draughts, the pois'nous

juice.

But time is lost, which never will renew, While we too far the pleasing path pursue, Surveying nature with too nice a view. Let this suffice for herds: our following care Shall woolly flocks and shaggy goats declare, Nor can I doubt what toil I must bestow, To raise my subject from a grounu so low; And the mean matter which my theme affords, T' embellish with magnificence of words. But the commanding muse my chariot guides, Which o'er the dubious cliff securely rides : And pleas'd I am, no beaten road to take, But first the way to new discov'ries make.

Now, sacred Pales, in a lofty strain

I sing the rural honours of thy reign.
First, with assiduous care, from winter keep,
Well-fodder'd in the stalls, thy tender sheep:
Then spread with straw the bedding of thy
fold,

With fern beneath, to 'fend the bitter cold:
That free from gouts thou may'st preserve thy

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Feed them with winter-browse; and, for their When linnets fill the woods with tuneful sound,

lair,

A cote, that opens to the south, prepare; Where basking in the sunshine they may lie, And the short remnants of his heat enjoy. This during winter's drizzly reign be done, Till the new Ram receives the exalted sun: For hairy goats of equal profit are

With woolly sheep, and ask an equal care.
'Tis true, the fleece, when drunk with Tyrian
juice,

Is dearly sold: but not for needful use:
For the salacious goat increases more,
And twice as largely yields her milky store.
The still distended udders never fail,
But, when they seem exhausted, swell the pail.
Meantime the pastor shears their hoary beards,
And eases of their hair the loaden herds.
Their cam❜lots, warm in tents, the soldier hold,
And shield the shiv'ring mariner from cold.

On shrubs they browse, and, on the bleaky top Of rugged hills, the thorny bramble crop. Attended with their bleating kids, they come At night, unask'd, and mindful of their home; And scarce their swelling bags the threshold

overcome.

So much the more thy diligence bestow
In depth of winter to defend the snow,
By how much less the tender helpless kind,
For their own ills, can fit provision find.
Then minister the browse with bounteous
hand;

And open let thy stacks all winter stand.
But, when the western winds with vital pow'r
Call forth the tender grass and budding flow'r,
Then, at the last, produce in open air

Both flocks; and send them to their summer fare.

Before the sun while Hesperus appears,
First let them sip from herbs the pearly tears
Of morning dews, and after break their fast
On green-sward ground-a cool and grateful

taste.

But, when the day's fourth hour has drawn the dews,

And the sun's sultry heat their thirst renews; When creaking grasshoppers on shrubs complain,

Then lead them to their watering-troughs again.
In summer's heat, some bending valley find,
Clos'd from the sun, but open to the wind;
Or seek some ancient oak, whose arms extend
In ample breadth, thy cattle to defend,
Or solitary grove, or gloomy glade,
To shield them with its venerable shade.
Once more to wat'ring lead; and feed again
When the low sun is sinking to the main,
When rising Cynthia sheds her silver dews,
And the cool evening-breeze the meads renews,

And hollow shores the halcyon's voice rebound. Why should my muse enlarge on Libyan

swains,

Their scatter'd cottages, and ample plains,
Where oft the flocks without a leader stray,
Or through continu'd deserts take their way,
And, feeding, add the length of night to day?
Whole months they wander, grazing as they

go;

Nor folds, nor hospitable harbour know.
Such an extent of plains, so vast a space
Of wilds unknown, and of untasted grass,
Allures their eyes; the shepherd last appears,
And with him all his patrimony bears,
His house and household gods, his trade of

war,

His bow and quiver, and his trusty cur.
Thus, under heavy arms, the youth of Rome
Their long laborious marches overcome,
Cheerly their tedious travels undergo,
And pitch their sudden camp before the foe.

Not so the Scythian shepherd tends his fold, Nor he who bears in Thrace the bitter cold, Nor he who treads the bleak Maotian strand, Or where proud Ister rolls his yellow sand. Early they stall their flocks and herds; for there No grass the fields, no leaves the forests,

wear;

The frozen earth lies buried there, below
A hilly heap, sev'n cubits deep in snow:
And all west allies of stormy Boreas blow.
The sun from far peeps with a sickly face,
Too weak, the clouds and mighty fogs to chase,
When up the skies he shoots his rosy head,
Or in the ruddy ocean seeks his bed.
Swift rivers are with sudden ice constrain'd
And studded wheels are on its back sustain'd,
A hostry now for wagons, which before
Tall ships of burden on its bosom bore.
The brazen caldrons with the frosts are flaw'd;
The garments, stiff with ice, at hearths is
thaw'd.

With axes first they cleave the vine; and thence,

By weight, the solid portions they dispense. From locks uncomb'd, and from the frozen beard,

Long icicles depend, and crackling sounds are heard.

Meantime, perpetual sleet and driving snow
Obscure the skies, and hang on herds below.
The starving cattle perish in their stalls ;
Huge oxen stand enclos'd in wintry walls
Of snow congeal'd; whole herds are buried
there,

Of mighty stags, and scarce their horns appear.
The dext'rous huntsman wounds not these afar
With shafts or darts, or makes a distant war

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Of windy cider, and of barmy beer.
Such are the cold Rhipsan race, and such
The savage Scythian, and unwarlike Dutch,
Where skins of beasts the rude barbarians
wear,

The spoils of foxes, and the furry bear.

Is wool thy care? Let not thy cattle go Where bushes are, where burs and thistles grow;

Nor in too rank a pasture let them feed: Then of the purest white select thy breed: E'en though a snowy ram thou shalt behold, Prefer him not in haste, for husband to thy fold: [tongue But search his mouth; and, if a swarthy Is underneath his humid palate hung, Reject him, lest he darken all the flock; And substitute another from thy stock. 'Twas thus, with fleeces milky white, (if we May trust report) Pan, god of Arcady, Did bribe thee, Cynthia; nor didst thou disdain, When call'd in woody shades, to cure a lover's pain.

If milk be thy design, with plenteous hand Bring clover-grass; and from the marshy land Salt herbage for the fodd'ring rack provide, To fill their bags, and swell the milky tide. These raise their thirst, and to the taste restore The savour of the salt, on which they fed before. Some, when the kids their dams too deeply drain,

With gags and muzzles their soft mouths re

strain.

Their morning milk the peasants press at night;
Their ev'ning meal before the rising light,
To market bear; or sparingly they steep
With seas'ning salt, and stor'd for winter keep.
Nor, last, forget thy faithful dogs: but feed
With fatt'ning whey the mastiff's gen'rous
breed,

And Spartan race, who, for the fold's relief,
Will prosecute with cries the nightly thief,

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Whether to roofy houses they repair,
Or sun themselves abroad in open air,
In all abodes of pestilential kind

To sheep and oxen, and the painful hind.
Take, shepherd, take a plant of stubborn oak,
And labour him with many a sturdy stroke,
Or with hard stones demolish from afar
His haughty crest, the seat of all the war;
Invade his hissing throat, and winding spires;
Till, stretch'd in length, th' unfolded foe retires.
He drags his tail, and for his head provides,
And in some secret cranny slowly glides;
But leaves expos'd to blows his back and batter'd
sides.

In fair Calabria's woods a snake is bred,
With curling crest, and with advancing head:
Waving he rolls, and makes a winding track;
His belly spotted, burnish'd is his back.
While springs are broken, while the southern

air,

[pair,

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