Lest the dark cloud, with whelming rush deprest, Drench thy cold limbs and soak thy dripping vest. This winter-month with prudent caution fear: Severe to flocks, nor less to men severe: Feed thy keen husbandman with larger bread: With half their provender thy steers be fed: Them rest assists: the night’s protracted length Recruits their vigour and supplies their strength. This rule observe, while still the various earth Gives every fruit and kindly seedling birth: Still to the toil proportionate the cheer, The day to night, and equalize the year. When from [107]the wintry tropic of the sun Full sixty days their finish’d round have run, Lo! then the sacred deep Arcturus leave, First whole-apparent on the verge of eve. Through the grey dawn the swallow lifts her wing, Morn-plaining bird, the harbinger of spring. Anticipate the time: the care be thine An earlier day to prune the shooting vine. When the house-bearing snail is slowly found To shun the Pleiad heats that scorch the ground, And climb the plant’s tall stem, insist no more To dress the vine, but give the vineyard o’er. Whet the keen sickle, hasten every swain, From shady booths, from morning sleep refrain; Now, in the fervour of the harvest-day, When the strong sun dissolves the frame away: Now haste a-field: now bind thy sheafy corn, And earn thy food by rising with the morn. Lo! the third portion of thy labour’s cares The early morn anticipating shares: In early morn the labour swiftly wastes: In early morn the speeded journey hastes; The time when many a traveller tracks the plain, And the yoked oxen bend them to the wain. When [108]the green artichoke ascending flowers, When, in the sultry season’s toilsome hours, Perch’d on a branch, beneath his veiling wings [109]The loud cicada shrill and frequent sings: [110]Then the plump goat a savoury food bestows, The poignant wine in mellowest flavour flows: Wanton the blood then bounds in woman’s veins, [111]But weak of man the heat-enfeebled reins: Full on his brain descends the solar flame Unnerves the languid knees, and all the frame Exhaustive dries away: oh then be thine To sit in shade of rocks; with [112]Byblian wine, And goat’s milk, stinted from the kid, to slake Thy thirst, and eat the shepherd’s creamy cake; The flesh of new-dropt kids and youngling cows, That, never teeming, cropp’d the forest browse. With dainty food so saturate thy soul, And drink the wine dark-mantling in the bowl: While in the cool and breezy gloom reclined Thy face is turn’d to catch the breathing wind; And feel the freshening brook, whose living stream Glides at thy foot with clear and sparkling gleam: Three parts its waters in thy cup should flow, The fourth with brimming wine may mingled glow.