For in their colour they do vie with Venus,
Though far inferior to her decent form.
The iris in its roots is like th' agallis,
Or hyacinth fresh sprung from Ajax' blood;
It rises high with swallow-shaped flowers,
Blooming when summer brings the swallows back.
Thick are the leaves they from their bosom pour,
And the fresh flowers constantly succeeding,
Shine in their stooping mouths.
Nor is the lychnis, nor the lofty rush,
Nor the fair anthemis in light esteem,
Nor the boanthemum with towering stem,
Nor phlox whose brilliancy scarce seems to yield
To the bright splendour of the midday sun.
Plant the ground thyme where the more fertile ground
Is moisten'd by fresh-welling springs beneath,
That with long creeping branches it may spread,
Or droop in quest of some transparent spring,
The wood-nymphs' chosen draught. Throw far away
The poppy's leaves, and keep the head entire,
A sure protection from the teasing gnats;
For every kind of insect makes its seat
Upon the opening leaves; and on the head,
Like freshening dews, they feed, and much rejoice
In the rich latent honey that it bears;
But when the leaves ([Greek: thria]) are off, the mighty flame
Soon scatters them. . . .
(but by the word [Greek: thria] he does not here mean the leaves of fig-trees, but of the poppy).
Nor can they place their feet
With steady hold, nor juicy food extract;
And oft they slip, and fall upon their heads.
Swift is the growth, and early the perfection
Of the sampsychum, and of rosemary,
And of the others which the gardens
Supply to diligent men for well-earn'd garlands.
Such are the feathery fern, the boy's-love sweet,
(Like the tall poplar); such the golden crocus,
Fair flower of early spring; the gopher white,
And fragrant thyme, and all the unsown beauty
Which in moist grounds the verdant meadows bear;
The ox-eye, the sweet-smelling flower of Jove,
The chalca, and the much sung hyacinth,
And the low-growing violet, to which
Dark Proserpine a darker hue has given;
The tall panosmium, and the varied colours
Which the gladiolus puts forth in vain
To decorate the early tombs of maidens.
Then too the ever-flourishing anemones,
Tempting afar with their most vivid dyes.
