Men call him Sirius—for his blasting breath
Dries mortals up in pestilence and death.
When, following hard upon the God of day,
He darts through field and grove his parching ray;
The face of Nature scorch'd and blister'd lies,
And beauteous Flora withers—pines—and dies.
But luscious juice the bursting grapes distil;
And golden stores the reaper's bosom fill.
Up from the east the Hare before him flies—
Close he pursues her through the southern skies. 360
Nearer he cannot reach—farther she cannot strain–
And close they plunge into the western main.
Near to the quarters of Orion's hound
Steers through the azure vault her nightly round
The far-fam'd ship, in which bold Jason's crew
First dar'd dark ocean's trackless path pursue.
When a swift vessel ploughs her watery way,
With forward prow she meets the dashing spray;
But when deep-laden back from distant land
She comes, with forward poop a clamorous band 370
Of joyous sailors haul her to the strand.
And thus, with forward poop and prow reverse
The heavenly Argo steers her westward course.
O'er half her length a shroud of darkness cast—
Some splendid stars illume her head and mast.
