The rolling rock in vain; and curst Ixion's wheel. } Meantime we must pursue the sylvan lands, } (The abode of nymphs,) untouched by former hands: } For such, Mæcenas, are thy hard commands. } Without thee, nothing lofty can I sing. Come then, and, with thyself, thy genius bring, With which inspired, I brook no dull delay: } Cithæron loudly calls me to my way; } Thy hounds, Täyg'tus, open, and pursue their prey. } High Epidaurus urges on my speed, Famed for his hills, and for his horses' breed: From hills and dales the cheerful cries rebound; For Echo hunts along, and propagates the sound. A time will come, when my maturer Muse, In Cæsar's wars, a nobler theme shall chuse, And through more ages bear my sovereign's praise, Than have from Tithon past to Cæsar's days. The generous youth, who, studious of the prize, The race of running coursers multiplies, Or to the plough the sturdy bullock breeds, May know, that from the dam the worth of each proceeds. The mother cow must wear a lowering look, Sour-headed, strongly necked, to bear the yoke. Her double dew-lap from her chin descends, And at her thighs the ponderous burden ends. Long are her sides and large; her limbs are great; Rough are her ears, and broad her horny feet. Her colour shining black, but flecked with white; She tosses from the yoke; provokes the fight: She rises in her gait, is free from fears, And in her face a bull's resemblance bears: Her ample forehead with a star is crowned, And with her length of tail she sweeps the ground. The bull's insult at four she may sustain; But, after ten, from nuptial rites refrain. Six seasons use; but then release the cow, Unfit for love, and for the labouring plough. Now, while their youth is filled with kindly fire, Submit thy females to the lusty sire: Watch the quick motions of the frisking tail; } Then serve their fury with the rushing male, } Indulging pleasure, lest the breed should fail. } In youth alone, unhappy mortals live; But, ah! the mighty bliss is fugitive: Discoloured sickness, anxious labours, come, And age, and death's inexorable doom. Yearly thy herds in vigour will impair. Recruit and mend them with thy yearly care: Still propagate; for still they fall away: 'Tis prudence to prevent the entire decay. Like diligence requires the courser's race, In early choice, and for a longer space. The colt, that for a stallion is designed, } By sure presages shews his generous kind: } Of able body, sound of limb and wind, } Upright he walks, on pasterns firm and straight; His motions easy; prancing in his gait; The first to lead the way, to tempt the flood, To pass the bridge unknown, nor fear the trembling wood;