"Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellow’d long; Even wonder’d at, because he dropt no sooner. Fate seem’d to wind him up for fourscore years; Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more: Till like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still."

"These I wielded while my bloom was warm, Ere age unstrung my nerves, or time o’er-snow’d my head."

"A look so pale no quartane ever gave; My dwindled legs seem crawling to a grave."

"These are the effects of doting age, Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over caution."

"No fences parted fields, nor marks nor bounds Distinguish’d acres of litigious grounds."

"Apulian farms, for the rich soil admired, And thy large fields, where falcons may be tired."

"Much labour is required in trees; Well must the ground be digg’d, and better dress’d, New soil to make, and meliorate the rest."

"Of the same soil their nursery prepare With that of their plantation, lest the tree Translated should not with the soil agree."

"Better gleanings their worn soil can boast Than the crab vintage of the neighb’ring coast,"

"When the Nile from Pharian fields is fled, The fat manure with heay’nly fire is warm’d."

"That the spent earth may gather heart again, And, better’d by cessation, bear the grain."

"Next, fenced with hedges and deep ditches round, Exclude th’ encroaching cattle from the ground."

"The crooked plough, the share, the tow’ ring height Of wagons, and the cart’s unwieldy weight; These all must be prepared."

"’Tis good for arable; a glebe that asks Tough teams of oxen; and laborious tasks."

"When the fiery suns too fiercely play, And shriyell’d herbs on with’ring stems decay, The wary ploughman, on the mountain’s brow, Undams his wat’ry stores; huge torrents flow; Temp’ring the thirsty fever of the field."

"Pales no longer swell’d the teeming grain, Nor Phœbus fed his oxen on the plain."

"Quintius here was born, Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows worn, Met by his trembling wife, returning home, And rustically joy’d, as chief of Rome."

"From ploughs and harrows sent to seek renown, They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town."

"The royal husbandman appear’d, And plough’d, and sow’d, and till’d; The thorns he rooted out, the rubbish clear’d, And blest th’ obedient field."

"Men plough with oxen of their own Their small paternal field of corn."

"The field is spacious I design to sow, With oxen far unfit to draw the plough."

"No plough shall hurt the glebe, no pruning-hook the vine."

"The teeming earth, yet guileless of the plough, And unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow."

"The sweating steers unharness’d from the yoke Bring back the crooked plough."

"An ox that waits the coming blow, Old and unprofitable to the plough."

"Who can cease to admire The ploughman consul in his coarse attire?"

"The lab’ring swain Scratch’d with a rake a furrow for his grain, And cover’d with his hand the shallow seed again."

"His corn and cattle were his only care, And his supreme delight a country fair."

"He burns the leaves, the scorching blast invades The tender corn, and shrivels up the blades,"

"Thou king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn Suffices fatness to the fruitful corn, Shalt share my morning song and evening vows."

"No fruitful crop the sickly fields return; But oats and darnel choke the rising corn."

"Tough thistles choked the fields, and kill’d the corn, And an unthrifty crop of weeds was born."

"The bearded corn ensued From earth unask’d; nor was that earth renew’d."

"Your hay it is mow’d, and your corn it is reap’d; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap’d; Come, my boys, come, Come, my boys, come, And merrily roar out harvest-home."

"Moist earth produces corn and grass, but both Too rank and too luxuriant in their growth. Let not my land so large a promise boast, Lest the lank ears in length of stem be lost."

"Delve of convenient depth your threshing floor; With temper’d clay then fill and face it o’er."

"In vain the hinds the threshing floor prepare, And exercise their flails in empty air."

"If a wood of leaves o’ershade the tree, In vain the hind shall vex the threshing floor, For empty chaff and straw will be thy store."

"On a short pruning-hook his head reclines, And studiously surveys his gen’rous vines."

"She in pens his flocks will fold."

"In shallow furrows vines securely grow."

"The vineyard must employ thy sturdy steer To turn the glebe; besides thy daily pain To break the clods, and make the surface plain."

"Some steep their seeds, and some in cauldrons boil O’er gentle fires; the exuberant juice to drain, And swell the flatt’ring husks with fruitful grain."

"Mark well the flow’ring almonds in the wood: If od’rous blooms the bearing branches load, The glebe will answer to the sylvan reign: Great heats will follow, and large crops of grain."

"The low’ring spring, with lavish rain, Beats down the slender stem and bearded grain."

"Oft the drudging ass is driven with toil; Returning late and loaden home with gain Of barter’d pitch, and handmills for the grain."

"Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone."