Himself invented first the shining share, And whetted human industry by care; Himself did handicrafts and arts ordain, Nor suffered sloth to rust his active reign. Ere this, no peasant vexed the peaceful ground, Which only turfs and greens for altars found: No fences parted fields, nor marks nor bounds Distinguished acres of litigious grounds; But all was common, and the fruitful earth Was free to give her unexacted birth. Jove added venom to the viper's brood, And swelled, with raging storms, the peaceful flood; Commissioned hungry wolves t' infest the fold, And shook from oaken leaves the liquid gold; Removed from human reach the cheerful fire, And from the rivers bade the wine retire; That studious need might useful arts explore; From furrowed fields to reap the foodful store, And force the veins of clashing flints t' expire The lurking seeds of their celestial fire. Then first on seas the hollowed alder swam; Then sailors quartered heaven, and found a name For every fixed and every wandering star-- The Pleiads, Hyads, and the Northern Car. Then toils for beasts, and lime for birds, were found, And deep-mouthed dogs did forest-walks surround; And casting-nets were spread in shallow brooks, Drags in the deep, and baits were hung on hooks. Then saws were toothed, and sounding axes made; (For wedges first did yielding wood invade,) And various arts in order did succeed, (What cannot endless labour, urged by need?) First Ceres taught, the ground with grain to sow, And armed with iron shares the crooked plough; When now Dodonian oaks no more supplied Their mast, and trees their forest-fruit denied. Soon was his labour doubled to the swain, And blasting mildews blackened all his grain: Tough thistles choked the fields, and killed the corn, And an unthrifty crop of weeds was born: Then burs and brambles, an unbidden crew Of graceless guests, the unhappy fields subdue; And oats unblest, and darnel domineers, And shoots its head above the shining ears; So that, unless the land with daily care Is exercised, and, with an iron war Of rakes and harrows, the proud foes expelled, And birds with clamours frighted from the field-- Unless the boughs are lopped that shade the plain, And heaven invoked with vows for fruitful rain-- On others'[6] crops you may with envy look, And shake for food the long-abandoned oak. Nor must we pass untold what arms they wield, Who labour tillage and the furrowed field; Without whose aid the ground her corn denies, And nothing can be sown, and nothing rise-- The crooked plough, the share, the towering height Of waggons, and the cart's unwieldy weight, The sled, the tumbril, hurdles, and the flail, The fan of Bacchus, with the flying sail-- These all must be prepared, if ploughmen hope The promised blessing of a bounteous crop. Young elms, with early force, in copses bow,