Page:Virgil - The Georgics, Thomas Nevile, 1767.djvu/82

 

But whether bulls or horses ask your pains,
No industry their vigour more maintains,
Than to avert the stings of madd'ning love:
Hence bulls to lonely pastures they remove,
Screen'd by some mountain's interposing side, 255
O'er rivers broad; or close in stables hide.
They pine, they burn, the female in their sight;
No thoughts of grove or herbage now delight:
Oft by sweet blandishments and coy delay
She stirs the haughty rivals to the fray: 260
The beauteous heifer browses in the wood:
For her, their limbs besmear'd with black'ning blood,
With mighty force the combatants engage,
And wounds on wounds are dealt with mutual rage;
Each at his rival drives with thund'ring sound 265
His horns; the bellow woods and skies rebound.
The conflict o'er, that instant part the foes;
Far to some unknown coast the vanquish'd goes,
A banish'd vagrant, his disgrace deplores,
And, the proud victor's gift, his smarting sores; 270
Nor moaning less his unreveng'd lost loves,
With look retorted on the stalls, removes
From his paternal realms: with ceaseless care
His strength he tries by practice to repair,

And,