FRUIT OF OLD.
5
And dusty summer dress the clods supine,
When mellow sunbeams more maturely shine.
But if the land is poor; 'twill be enow
Beneath Arcture to skim with shallow plough,
Here, lest the weeds annoy the jocund grain, 80
And there, lest water fail the sandy plain.
Shorn fallows each alternate year should rest,
And leisure brace the languid meadow's breast;
Or change your star, and sow the yellow corn
Where bouncing peas with rattling pods were borne, 85
Nay, oft 'tis good to burn the sterile leys,
And fire the stubble with a crackling blaze :
Or where, from slim vetch and from lupin rude,
You glean'd the brittle haulm and rustling wood.
For hemp and oats consume their nurture deep,
And poppies drizzled with Lethæan sleep.
Alternate fallows good relief ensure, 90
And dry soils love a glut of rich manure :
Then blush thou not, but boldly scatter round
Uncleanly ashes on the exhausted ground.
So fields by change of crops have welcome rest,
Nor thankless proves the earth's unfurrow'd breast. 95
Nay, oft ’tis good to burn the sterile leys,
And fire the stubble with a crackling blaze:
When mellow sunbeams more maturely shine.
But if the land is poor; 'twill be enow
Beneath Arcture to skim with shallow plough,
Here, lest the weeds annoy the jocund grain, 80
And there, lest water fail the sandy plain.
Shorn fallows each alternate year should rest,
And leisure brace the languid meadow's breast;
Or change your star, and sow the yellow corn
Where bouncing peas with rattling pods were borne, 85
Nay, oft 'tis good to burn the sterile leys,
And fire the stubble with a crackling blaze :
Or where, from slim vetch and from lupin rude,
You glean'd the brittle haulm and rustling wood.
For hemp and oats consume their nurture deep,
And poppies drizzled with Lethæan sleep.
Alternate fallows good relief ensure, 90
And dry soils love a glut of rich manure :
Then blush thou not, but boldly scatter round
Uncleanly ashes on the exhausted ground.
So fields by change of crops have welcome rest,
Nor thankless proves the earth's unfurrow'd breast. 95
Nay, oft ’tis good to burn the sterile leys,
And fire the stubble with a crackling blaze:
