Uncultured earth her first small offerings,
Creeping wild ivy, arums, foxgloves too,
Smiling acanthus with bright polished leaf.
The teeming she-goats without call come home,
The flocks by lions shall be scared no more,
No more by serpents and by poison plants;
O'er all the land sweet spicy balsams grow.
When thou shalt learn thy father's glorious deeds,
The pride of heroes and what Virtue means.
Golden the plains will slowly turn with soft
And bearded ears of corn; the blushing grapes
Shall hang from wild-briar boughs; hard oaks shall drip
With sweetest honey. There will linger yet
Some trace of evil; tempted men will be
To cross the sea in ships, gird towns with walls,
And delve deep furrows in the fertile earth.
Tiphys must come again; Argo once more
Shall bear the chosen heroes; wars will rise
And great Achilles go anew to Troy.
When from Time's course thy manhood thou hast gained,
No more shall men in tall ships cross the seas,
Nor merchandise be carried in the same:
All countries then all good things shall produce;
No harrow need the soil, no hook the vine;
The hind shall loose his oxen from the yoke.
No more our wool need dyeing with false hues,
For rams in meadows make their fleeces glow
With lovely purple melting into gold;
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