_Felix, qui propriis avum transegit in arvis, Una domus puerum, &c._ Most happy man! who in his own sweet fields Spent all his time; to whom one cottage yields In age and youth a lodging; who, grown old, Walks with his staff on the same soil and mould Where he did creep an infant, and can tell Many fair years spent in one quiet cell! No toils of fate made him from home far known, Nor foreign waters drank, driv'n from his own. No loss by sea, no wild land's wasteful war Vex'd him, not the brib'd coil of gowns at bar. Exempt from cares, in cities never seen, The fresh field-air he loves, and rural green. The year's set turns by fruits, not consuls, knows; Autumn by apples, May by blossom'd boughs. Within one hedge his sun doth set and rise, The world's wide day his short demesnes comprise; Where he observes some known, concrescent twig Now grown an oak, and old, like him, and big. Verona he doth for the Indies take, And as the Red Sea counts Benacus' Lake. Yet are his limbs and strength untir'd, and he, A lusty grandsire, three descents doth see. Travel and sail who will, search sea or shore; This man hath liv'd, and that hath wander'd more. THE SPHERE OF ARCHIMEDES OUT OF CLAUDIAN, [EPIGRAMMA XVIII.] _Jupiter in parvo cum cerneret aethera vitro_ _Risit, et ad superos, &c._ When Jove a heav'n of small glass did behold, He smil'd, and to the gods these words he told. "Comes then the power of man's art to this? In a frail orb my work new acted is, The poles' decrees, the fate of things, God's laws, Down by his art old Archimedes draws. Spirits inclos'd the sev'ral stars attend, And orderly the living work they bend. A feigned Zodiac measures out the year, Ev'ry new month a false moon doth appear. And now bold industry is proud, it can Wheel round its world, and rule the stars by man. Why at Salmoneus' thunder do I stand? Nature is rivall'd by a single hand." THE PH[OE]NIX OUT OF CLAUDIAN, [IDYLL I.] _Oceani summo circumfluus aequore lucus_ _Trans Indos, Eurumque viret, &c._