8
THE FARM AND
'Twas he who first made husbandry a plan,
And care a whetstone for the wit of man;
Nor suffer'd he his own domains to lie
Asleep in cumbrous old-world lethargy. 145
Ere Jove, the acres own'd no master swain,
None durst enclose or even mark the plain;
The world was common, and the willing land
More frankly gave, with no one to demand.
'Twas Jove lent deadly venom to the snake, 150
Bade wolves to prowl, and bade the surges break,
Stripp'd honey from the leaves, abolish'd fire,
And made the wine that gush'd in floods retire:
That so experience might fashion trade,
On study's anvil, by laborious dint, 155
Track harvest in the furrows, and invade
The fire that coucheth in the veins of flint.
Then first the rivers felt the scoop'd canoe,
Then mariners gave name, and number too,
To every star that hath them in his care, 160
Pleïads, Hyads, and Lycaon's bear.
Then snare for beasts, and lime for birds, were tried,
And hounds to draw along the covert side.
Some launch the cast-net on the river free,
And care a whetstone for the wit of man;
Nor suffer'd he his own domains to lie
Asleep in cumbrous old-world lethargy. 145
Ere Jove, the acres own'd no master swain,
None durst enclose or even mark the plain;
The world was common, and the willing land
More frankly gave, with no one to demand.
'Twas Jove lent deadly venom to the snake, 150
Bade wolves to prowl, and bade the surges break,
Stripp'd honey from the leaves, abolish'd fire,
And made the wine that gush'd in floods retire:
That so experience might fashion trade,
On study's anvil, by laborious dint, 155
Track harvest in the furrows, and invade
The fire that coucheth in the veins of flint.
Then first the rivers felt the scoop'd canoe,
Then mariners gave name, and number too,
To every star that hath them in his care, 160
Pleïads, Hyads, and Lycaon's bear.
Then snare for beasts, and lime for birds, were tried,
And hounds to draw along the covert side.
Some launch the cast-net on the river free,
