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And with one common stock their traffic drive.
Each has a certain home, a several stall ;
All is the state's, the state provides for all.
Mindful of common cold, they share the pain ;
And hoard, for winter's use, the summer's gain.


Now, did I not so near my labors' end Strike sail, and hastening to the harbor tend, My song to flowery gardens might extend. To teach the vegetable arts, to sing The Pæstan roses, and their double spring : How succory drinks the running streams, and how Green beds of parsley near the river grow ; How cucumbers along the surface creep, With crooked bodies, and with bellies deep; The late narcissus, and the winding trail Of bears-foot, myrtles green, and ivy pale.


Some o'er the public magazines preside, And some are sent new forage to provide : These drudge in fields abroad, and thoso at home Lay deep foundations, for the labored comb, With dew, narcissus-leaves, and clammy gum. To pitch the waxen flooring some contrive ; Some nurse the future nation of the hive; Sweet honey some condense; some purge the grout; The rest, in cells apart, the liquid nectar shut. All, with united force, combine to drive The lazy drones from the laborious hive. With envy stung, they view each other's deeds ; With diligence the fragrant work proceeds.


For where with stately towers Tarentum stands, And deep Galesus soaks the yellow sands, I chanced an old Corycian swain to know, Lord of few acres, and those barren too ; Unfit for sheep, or vines, and more unfit to sow Yet laboring well his little spot of ground, Some scattering pot-herbs here and there he found; Which, cultivated with his daily care, And bruised with vervain, were his frugal fare. Sometimes white lilies did their leaves afford, With wholesome poppy-flowers to mend his homely

board : For late returning home he supped at ease, And wisely deemed the wealth of monarchs less Than little of his own, because his own did please.


To quit his care, he gathered first of all In Spring the roses, apples in the Fall : And when cold Winter split the rocks in twain, And ice the running rivers did restrain, He stripped the bears-foot of its leafy growth, And, calling western winds, accused the Spring of

sloth ; He therefore first among the swains was found, To reap the product of his labored ground, And squeeze the combs with golden liquor crowned. His limes were first in flower ; his lofty pines, With friendly shade, secured his tender vines. For every bloom his trees in spring afford, An autumn apple was by tale restored. He knew to rank his elms in even rows; For fruit the grafted pear-tree to dispose ; And tame to plums the sourness of the sloes. With spreading planes he made a cool retreat, To shade good fellows from the Summer's heat. But, straitened in my space, I must forsake This task ; for others afterwards to take.

As when the Cyclops, at the almighty nod, New thunder hasten for their angry god : Subdued in fire the stubborn metal lies ; One brawny smith the puffing bellows plies, And draws, and blows reciprocating air ; Others to quench the hissing mass prepare : With lifted arms they order every blow, And chime their sounding hammers in a row ; With labored anvils Ætna groans below. Strongly they strike, huge flakes of flames expire, With tongs they turn the steel, and vex it in the fire.

VARIOUS EMPLOYMENTS OF THE BEE COMMUNITY. If little things with great we may compare, Such are the bees, and such their busy care : Studious of honey, each in his degree, The youthful swain, the grave experienced bee; That in the field ; this in affairs of state, Employed at home, abides within the gate, To fortify the combs, to build the wall, To prop the ruins, lest the fabric fall : But late at night, with weary pinions come The laboring youth, and heavy laden home. Plains, meads, and orchards, all the day he plies ; The gleans of yellow thyme distend his thighs : He spoils the saffron flowers, he sips the blues Of violets, wilding blooms, and willow dews. Their toil is common, common is their sleep ; They shake their wings when morn begins to peep; Rush through the city gates without delay, Nor ends their work but with declining day : Then having spent the last remains of light, They give their bodies due repose at night; When hollow murmurs of their evening bells Dismiss the sleepy swains, and toll them to their cells.


Describe we next the nature of the bees, Bestowed by Jove for secret services, When, by the tinkling sound of timbrels led, The King of heaven in Cretan caves they fed. Of all the race of animals, alone The bees have common cities of their own, And common sons ; beneath one law they live,


When once in beds their weary limbs they steep, No buzzing sounds disturb their golden sleep.


'T is sacred silence all. Nor dare they stray,
When rain is promised, or a stormy day :
But near the city walls their watering take,
Nor forage far, but short excursions make.

And as, when empty barks on billows float,
With sandy ballast sailors trim their boat ;
So bees bear gravel-stones, whose poising weight
Steers through the whistling winds their steady


Now when thou hast decreed to seize their stores, And by prerogative to break their doors, With sprinkled water first the city choke, And then pursue the citizens with smoke.1 Two honey harvests fall in every year : First, when the pleasing Pleiades appear, And springing upward spurn the briny seas ; Again, when their affrighted quire surveys The watery Scorpion mend his pace behind, With a black train of storms, and winter wind, They plunge into the deep, and safe protection find. Prone to revenge, the bees, a wrathful race, When once provoked, assault the aggressor's face : And through the purple veins a passage find ; There fix their stings, and leave their souls behind.



But, what's more strange, their modest appetites, Averse from Venus, fly the nuptial rites. No lust enervates their heroic mind, Nor wastes their strength on wanton womankind. But in their mouths reside their genial powers, They gather children from the leaves and flowers. Thus make they kings to fill the regal seat ; And thus their little citizens create ; And waxen cities build, and palaces of state. And oft on rocks their tender wings they tear, And sink beneath the burdens which they bear. Such rage of honey in their bosom beats, And such a zeal they have for flowery sweets.

Thus through the race of life they quickly run ; Which in the space of seven short years is done ; The immortal line in sure succession reigns, The fortune of the family remains ; And grandsires' grandsons the long list contains.

HOW TO DESTROY THE BEE-MOTH, LIZARDS, ETC. But if a pinching winter thou foresee, And wouldst preserve thy famished family ; With fragrant thyme the city fumigate, And break the waxen walls to save the state. For lurking lizards often lodge, by stealth, Within the suburbs, and purloin their wealth. And lizards, shunning light, a dark retreat Have found in combs, and undermined the seat. Or lazy drones, without their share of pain, In winter-quarters free, devour the gain ; Or wasps in vest the camp with loud alarms, And mix in battle with unequal arms ; Or secret moths are there in silence fed ; Or spiders in the vault their snary webs have spread.

The more oppressed by foes, or famine pined, The more increase thy care to save the sinking kind; With greens and flowers recruit their empty hives, And seek fresh forage to sustain their lives.



Besides, not Egypt, India, Media, more With servile awe their idol king adore : While he survives, in concord and content The commons live, by no divisions rent ; [ment. But the great monarch's death dissolves the governAll goes to ruin, they themselves contrive To rob the honey, and subvert the hive. The king presides, his subjects' toil surveys ; The servile rout their careful Cæsar praise : Him they extol, they worship him alone, They crowd his levees, and support his throne : They raise him on their shoulders with a shout; And when their sovereign's quarrel calls them out, His foes to mortal combat they defy, And think it honor at his feet to die.


But since they share with man one common fate, In health and sickness, and in turns of state ; Observe the symptoms when they fall away, And languish with insensible decay. They change their bue, with baggard eyes they stare, Lean are their looks, and shagged is their hair : And crowds of dead, that never must return To their loved hives, in decent pomp are borne : Thoir friends attend the hearse, the next relations

mourn. The sick for air before the portal gasp, Their feeble legs within each other clasp ; Or idle in their empty hives remain, Benumbed with cold, and listless of their gain. Soft whispers, then, and broken sounds, are heard, As when the woods by gentle winds are stirred; Such stifled noise as the close furnace bides, Or dying murinurs of departing tides.

Induced by such examples, some have taught That bees have portions of ethereal thought; Endued with particles of heavenly fires : For God the whole created mass inspires; (throws Through heaven, and earth, and ocean's depth, He His influence round, and kindles as He goes. (fowls, Hence flocks, and berds, and men, and beasts, and With breath are quickened, and attract their souls; Henco take the forins his prescience did ordain, And into Him at length resolve again. No room is left for death, they mount the sky, And to their own congenial planets fly.

1 This waste is unnecessary ; it suffices to place several boxes above each other, with a hole of communication between. The top box is filled first; a little rapping on it will drive the bees down, when it can be taken off, full.


This when thou seest, Galbanean odors use,

The grubs proceed to bees with pointed stings : And honey in the sickly hive infuse.

And more and more affecting air, they try Through reeden pipes convey the golden flood, Their tender pinions, and begin to fly. [clouds, T'invite the people to their wonted food ;

At length, like summer storms from spreading Mix it with thickened juice of sodden wines, That burst at once, and pour impetuous floods ; And raisins from the grapes of Psythian vines : Or flights of arrows from the Parthian bows, To these add pounded galls, and roses dry, (taury. When from afar they gall embattled foes ; And with Cecropian thyme, strong-scented cen- With such a tempest through the skies they steer;

And such a form the wingéd squadrons bear.
A flower there is, that grows in meadow ground, STORY OF ARIST EUS AND HIS MOTHER CYRENE. -THE PLAINT

Amellus called, and easy to be found ;
For from one root the rising stem bestows

What god, O muse, this useful science taught ? A wood of leaves, and violet-purple boughs :

Or by what man's experience was it brought ? The flower itself is glorious to behold,

Sad Aristæus from fair Tempe fled, And shines on altars like refulgent gold :

His bees with famine, or diseases, dead ; Sharp to the taste, by shepherds near the stream On Peneus' banks he stood, and near his holy head. Of Mella found, and thence they gave the name.

And while his falling tears the stream supplied, Boil this restoring root in generous wine,

Thus, mourning, to his mother goddess cried. And set beside the door, the sickly stock to dine. Mother Cyrene, mother, whose abode

Is in the depth of this immortal flood ; HOW TO RENEW A LOST HIVE FROM BULLOCK'S BLOOD.

What boots it that from Phoebus' loins I spring, But if the laboring kind be wholly lost :

The third, by him and thee, from heaven's high And not to be retrieved with care or cost;

0! where is all thy boasted pity gone, [king: 'T is time to touch the precepts of an art,

And promise of the skies to thy deluded son ? The Arcadian master did of old impart;

Why didst thou me, unhappy me, creato ? And how he stocked his empty hives again,

Odious to gods, and born to bitter fate. (plough, Renewed with putrid gore of oxen slain.

Whom scarce my sheep, and scarce my painful An ancient legend I prepare to sing,

The needful aids of human life allow : And upward follow fame's immortal spring :

So wretched is thy son, so hard a mother thou. For where with seven-fold horns mysterious Nile Proceed, inhuman parent, in thy scorn ; Surrounds the skirts of Egypt's fruitful isle, Root up my trees, with blights destroy my corn ; And where in pomp the sunburnt people ride,

My vineyards ruin, and my sheep-folds burn :On painted barges, o'er the teeming tide,

Let loose thy rage, let all thy spite be shown, Which, pouring down from Ethiopian lands, [sands;

Since thus thy hate pursues the praises of thy son. Makes green the soil with slime, and black, prolific That length of region, and large tract of ground, In this one art a sure relief have found.

But from her mossy bower below the ground, First, in a place by nature close, they build

His careful mother heard the plaintive sound, A narrow flooring, guttered, walled, and tiled. Encompassed with her sea-green sisters round. In this, four windows are contrived, that strike One common work they plied : their distaffs full To the four winds opposed, their beams oblique. With carded locks of blue Milesian wool. A steer of two years old they take, whose head Spio with Drymo brown, and Xanthe fair, Now first with burnished horns begins to spread ; And sweet Phyllodoce with long dishevelled hair : They stop his nostrils, while he strives in vain Cydippe with Lycorias, one a maid, To breathe free air, and struggles with his pain. And one that once had called Lucina's aid. Knocked down, he dies : his bowels, bruised within, Clio and Beroe, from one father both, Betray no wound on his unbroken skin.

Both girt with gold, and clad in parti-colored cloth.
Extended thus, in his obscene abode, (strewed Opis the meek, and Deiopeia proud ;
They leave the beast ; but first sweet flowers are Nisæa lofty, with Ligæa loud ;
Beneath his body, broken boughs and thyme, Thalia joyous, Ephyre the sad,
And pleasing cassia just renewed in prime.

And Arethusa, once Diana's maid,
This must be done ere Spring makes equal day, But now, her quiver left, to love betrayed.
When western winds on curling waters play : To these Clymene the sweet theft declares
Ere painted meads produce their flowery crops, Of Mars' and Vulcan’s unavailing cares :
Or swallows twitter on the chimney-tops.

And all the rapes of gods, and every love,
The tainted blood, in this close prison pent,

From ancient Chaos down to youthful Jove, Begins to boil, and through the bones ferment. Thus while she sings, the sisters turn the wheel, Then, wondrous to behold, new creatures rise, Empty the woolly rock, and fill the reel. A moving mass at first, and short of thighs ; A mournful sound again the mother hears ; Till shooting out with legs, and imped with wings, Again the mournful sound invades the sisters' ears:


Starting at once from their green seats, they rise ;
Fear in their hearts, amazement in their eyes.
But Arethusa, leaping from her bed,
First lifts above the waves her beauteous head;
And, crying from afar, thus to Cyrene said.
O sister ! not with causeless fear possest,
No stranger voice disturbs thy tender breast.
'Tis Aristeus, 't is thy darling son,
Who to his careless mother makes his moan.
Near his paternal stream he sadly stands,
With downcast eyes, wet cheeks, and folded hands,
Upbraiding heaven from whence his lineage came;
And cruel calls the gods, and cruel thee, by name.

Cyrene, moved with love, and seized with fear,
Cries out, conduct my son, conduct him here :
'T is lawful for the youth, derived from gods,
To view the secrets of our deep abodes.
At once she waved her hand on either side,
At once the ranks of swelling streams divide.
Two rising heaps of liquid crystal stand,
And leave a space betwixt, of empty sand.
Thus safe received, the downward track he treads,
Which to his mother's watery palace leads.
With wondering eyes he views the secret store
Of lakes, that pent in hollow caverns roar ;
He hears the crackling sound of coral woods,
And sees the secret source of subterranean floods.
And where, distinguished in their several cells,
The fount of Phasis and of Lycus dwells ;
Where swift Enipeus in his bed appears,
And Tiber his majestic forehead rears.
Whence Anio flows, and Hypanis, profound,
Breaks through th' opposing rocks with raging
Where Po first issues from his dark abodes, (sound.
And, awful in his cradle, rules the floods.
Two golden horns on his large front he wears,
And his grim face a bull's resemblance bears.
With rapid course he seeks the sacred main,
And fattens, as he runs, the fruitful plain.

Now to the court arrived, the admiring son Beholds the vaulted roofs of pory stone ; Now to his mother goddess tells his grief, Which she with pity hears, and promises relief. Th' officious nymphs, attending in a ring, With water drawn from their perpetual spring, From earthly dregs his body purify, And rub his temples, with fine towels, dry : Then load the tables with a liberal feast, And honor with full bowls their friendly guest. The sacred altars are involved in smoke, And the bright choir their kindred gods invoke. Two bowls the mother fills with Lydian wine ; Then thus, 'Let those be poured, with rites divine, To the great authors of our watery line ; To father Ocean, this ; and this, she said, Be to the Nymphs, his sacred sisters, paid, (shade.' Who rule the watery plains, and hold the woodland

She sprinkled thrice with wine the vestal fire,
Thrice to the vaulted roof the flames aspire.
Raised with so blest an omen, she begun,
With words like these, to cheer her drooping son.


In the Carpathian bottom makes abode The shepherd of the seas, a prophet and a god ; High o'er the main in watery pomp he rides, His azure car and finny coursers guides : Proteus his name : to his Pallenian port I see from far the weary god resort. Him not alone we river gods adore, But aged Nereus hearkens to his lore. With sure foresight, and with unerring doom, He sees what is, and was, and is to come. This Neptune gave him, when he gave to keep His scaly flocks, that graze the watery deep. Implore his aid, for Proteus only knows The secret cause, and cure of all thy woes. But first the wily wizard must be caught, For, unconstrained, he nothing tells for naught; Nor is with prayers, or bribes, or flattery bought. Surprise him first, and with hard fetters bind; Then all bis frauds will vanish into wind. I will myself conduct thee on thy way, When next the southing sun inflames the day : When the dry herbage thirsts for dews in vain, And sheep, in shades, avoid the parching plain, Then will I lead thee to his secret seat ; When, weary with his toil, and scorched with heat, The wayward sire frequents his cool retreat. His eyes with heavy slumber overcast, With force invade his limbs, and bind him fast : Thus surely bound, yet be not over bold, The slippery god will try to loose his hold, And various forins assume to cheat thy sight, And with vain images of beasts affright : With foamy tusks will seem a bristly boar, Or imitate the lion's angry roar ; Break out in crackling flames to shun thy snares, Or hiss a dragon, or a tiger stares ; Or with a wile, thy caution to betray, In fleeting streams attempt to slide away. But thou, the more he varies forms, beware To etrain his fetters with a stricter care : Till, tiring all his arts, he turns again To his true shape, in which he first was seen.



This said, with nectar she her son anoints ; Infusing vigor through his mortal joints : Down from his head the liquid odors ran ; He breathed of heaven, and looked above a man.

Within a mountain's hollow womb there lies A large recess, concealed from human eyes ; Where heaps of billows, driven by wind and tide, In form of war, their watery ranks divide ; And there, like sentries set, without the mouth


A station safe for ships, when tempests roar,
A silent harbor, and a covered shore,
Secure within resides the various god,
And draws a rock upon his dark abode.
Hither with silent steps, secure from sight,
The goddess guides her son, and turns him from

the light :
Herself, involved in clouds, precipitates her flight.

To shun thy lawless lust, the dying bride,
Unwary, took along the river's side,
Nor at her heels perceived the deadly snake,
That keeps the bank, in covert of the brake.
But all her fellow-nymphs the mountains tear
With loud laments, and break the yielding air :
The realms of Mars re-murmured all around,
And echoes to th’ Athenian shores rebound.



PROTEUS SURROUNDED BY HIS HERDS OF SEALS, ETC. 'T was noon ; the sultry dog-star from the sky

The unhappy husband, husband now no more, Scorched Indian swains, the rivelled grass was dry ;

Did on his tuneful harp his loss deplore, (store. The sun with flaming arrows pierced the flood,

And sought his mournful mind with music to reAnd, darting to the bottom, baked the mud :

On thee, dear wife, in deserts all alone, When weary Proteus, from the briny waves,

He called, sighed, sung; his griefs with day begun, Retired for shelter to his wonted caves :

Nor were they finished with the setting sun. His finny flocks about their shepherd play,

Ev'n to the dark dominions of the night And, rolling round him, spirt the bitter sea.

He took his way, through forests void of light; Unwieldily they wallow first in ooze,

And dared amidst the trembling ghosts to sing; Then in the shady covert seek repose.

And stood before th' inexorable king.
Himself their herdsman, on the middle mount,
Takes of his mustered flocks a just account.

Th’infernal troops like passing shadows glide, So, seated on a rock, a shepherd's groom

And, listening, crowd the sweet musician's side : Surveys his evening flocks returning home ;

Not flocks of birds, when driven by storms or night, When lowing calves, and bleating lambs, from far, Stretch to the forest with so thick a flight. Provoke the prowling wolf to nightly war.

Men, matrons, children, and the unmarried maid, CONTEST OF ARISTÆUS WITH PROTEUS.

The mighty hero's more majestic shade, [laid. The occasion offers, and the youth complies :

And youths on funeral piles before their parents

All these Cocytus bounds with squalid reeds, For scarce the weary god had closed his eyes,

With muddy ditches, and with deadly weeds : When rushing on, with shouts, he binds in chains

And baleful Styx encompasses around The drowsy prophet, and his limbs constrains.

With nine slow circling streams th’unhappy ground. He, not unmindful of his usual art, First in dissembled fire attempts to part ;

Ev'n from the depths of hell the damned advance ;

Th' infernal mansions, nodding, seem to dance ; Then roaring beasts, and running streams, he tries, And wearies all his miracles of lies ;

The gaping three-mouthed dog forgets to snarl ;

The furies hearken, and their snakes uncurl ; But having shifted every form to 'scape,

Ixion seems no more his pains to feel,
Convinced of conquest, he resumed his shape ;

But leans attentive on his standing wheel.
And thus, at length, in human accent spoke.
Audacious youth, what madness could provoke


LOSES HIS WIFE FOREVER; HER TOCCHING FAREWELL. A mortal man t'invade a sleeping god ? What business brought thee to my dark abode ?

All dangers past, at length the lovely bride To this the audacious youth : thou know'st full

In safety goes, with her melodious guide ; My name and business, god, nor need I tell : [well Longing the common light again to share, No man can Proteus cheat ; but, Proteus, leave

And draw the vital breath of upper air : Thy fraudful arts, and do not thou deceive.

He first, and close behind him followed she,

For such was Proserpine's severe decree.
Following the gods' command, I come t'implore
Thy help, my perished people to restore.

When strong desires th' impatient youth invade ;

By little caution and much love betrayed : PROTEUS TELLS THE STORY OF ORPHECS AND EURYDICE. - A fault which easy pardon might receive,

Were lovers judges, or could hell forgive. The seer, who could not yet his wrath assuago, For near the confines of ethereal light, Rolled his green eyes, that sparkled with his rage; And longing for the glimmering of a sight, And gnashed his teeth, and cried, No vulgar god The unwary lover cast his eyes behind, Pursues thy crimes, nor with a common rod. Forgetful of the law, nor master of his mind. Thy great misdeeds have met a due reward,

Straight all his hopes exhaled in empty smoke ; And Orpheus' dying prayers at length are heard. And his long toils were forfeit for a look. For crimes not his the lover lost his life,

Three flashes of blue lightning gave the sign And at thy hands requires his murdered wife : Of cov’nants broke, threo peals of thunder join. Nor (if the fates assist not) canst thou 'scape Then thus the bride : What fury seized on thee, The just revenge of that intended rape.

Unhappy man! to lose thyself and me?


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