With such a force the flying rack is driven, And such a winter wears the face of heaven: And oft whole sheets descend of sluicy rain, Sucked by the spongy clouds from off the main: The lofty skies[9] at once come pouring down, The promised crop and golden labours drown. The dikes are filled; and, with a roaring sound, } The rising rivers float the nether ground, } And rocks the bellowing voice of boiling seas rebound. } The father of the gods his glory shrouds, Involved in tempests, and a night of clouds; And, from the middle darkness flashing out, By fits he deals his fiery bolts about. Earth feels the motions of her angry god; } Her entrails tremble, and her mountains nod, } And flying beasts in forests seek abode: } Deep horror seizes every human breast; Their pride is humbled, and their fear confessed, While he from high his rolling thunder throws, And fires the mountains with repeated blows: The rocks are from their old foundations rent; The winds redouble, and the rains augment: The waves on heaps are dashed against the shore; And now the woods, and now the billows, roar. In fear of this, observe the starry signs, Where Saturn houses, and where Hermes joins. But first to heaven thy due devotions pay, And annual gifts on Ceres' altars lay. When winter's rage abates, when cheerful hours Awake the spring, and spring awakes the flowers, On the green turf thy careless limbs display, And celebrate the mighty Mother's day; For then the hills with pleasing shades are crowned, And sleeps are sweeter on the silken ground: With milder beams the sun securely shines;[10] Fat are the lambs, and luscious are the wines. Let every swain adore her power divine, And milk and honey mix with sparkling wine: Let all the choir of clowns attend the show, In long procession, shouting as they go; Invoking her to bless their yearly stores, Inviting plenty to their crowded floors. Thus in the spring, and thus in summer's heat, Before the sickles touch the ripening wheat, On Ceres call; and let the labouring hind With oaken wreaths his hollow temples bind: On Ceres let him call, and Ceres praise, With uncouth dances, and with country lays. And that by certain signs we may presage Of heats and rains, and wind's impetuous rage, The Sovereign of the heavens has set on high The moon, to mark the changes of the sky; When southern blasts should cease, and when the swain Should near their folds his feeding flocks restrain. For, ere the rising winds begin to roar, The working seas advance to wash the shore; Soft whispers run along the leafy woods, And mountains whistle to the murmuring floods. Even then the doubtful billows scarce abstain From the tossed vessel on the troubled main; When crying cormorants forsake the sea,