Alexander William Mair

"Death at the headlands, Hesiod, long ago Gave thee to drink of his unhonied wine: Now Boreas cannot reach thee lying low, Nor Sirius' heat vex any hour of thine: The Pleiads rising are no more a sign For thee to reap, nor, when they set, to sow: Whether at morn or eve Arcturus shine, To pluck or prune the vine thou canst not know.Vain now for thee the crane's autumnal flight, The loud cuckoo, the twittering swallow—vain The flow'ring scolymus, the budding trees, Seedtime and Harvest, Blossoming and Blight, The mid, the early, and the latter rain, And strong Orion and the Hyades."