Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 1.pdf/282

Sharp tasted Citrons Median Climes produce:175
Bitter the Rind, but gen'rous is the Juice:
A cordial Fruit, a present Antidote
Against the direful Stepdam's deadly Draught:
Who mixing wicked Weeds with Words impure,
The Fate of envy'd Orphans wou'd procure.180
Large is the Plant, and like a Laurel grows,
And did it not a diff'rent Scent disclose,
A Laurel were: the fragrant Flow'rs contemn
The stormy Winds, tenacious of their Stem.
With this the Medes, to lab'ring Age, bequeath185
New Lungs, and cure the sourness of the Breath.
But neither Median Woods, (a plenteous Land,)
Fair Ganges, Hermus rolling Golden Sand,
Nor Bactria, nor the richer Indian Fields,
Nor all the Gummy Stores Arabia yields;190
Nor any foreign Earth of greater Name,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Can with sweet Italy contend in Fame.
No Bulls, whose Nostrils breath a living Flame,
Have turn'd our Turf, no Teeth of Serpents here
Were sown, an armed Host, and Iron Crop to bear.
But fruitful Vines, and the fat Olives fraight,196
And Harvests heavy with their fruitful weight,
Adorn our Fields; and on the chearful Green,
The grazing Flocks and lowing Herds are seen.
The Warrior Horse, here bred, is taught to train,200
There flows Clitumnus thro' the flow'ry Plain;