16
THE FARM AND
Dread thou the fifth. Pale Orcus then was yean'd,
And Furies; and the earth, a labouring fiend,
Bore Cœus, Japetus, Typhœus cursed,
And brothers sworn the barrier'd heaven to burst. 325
Three times they tugg'd to roll, with staggering strain,
Ossa on Pelion, ay, and heave amain
Olympus forest-crown'd. Three times the Sire
Demolish'd with his bolt the mountain spire.
Add seven to ten, and now your luck is full 330
To plant the vine, and tame the captured bull,
To fix the beam, and join the thrum and weft;
The ninth is good for travel, bad for theft.
Moreover many things are better done
In cool of night, or dew of early sun. 335
By night mow thirsty meads and stubble light,
For softening moisture faileth not the night.
And some, until the winter hearth grow dim,
Renew the watch, and shape the torches trim,
While, as her sprightly shuttle hums along, 340
The goodwife cheers their labour with a song,
Mulls on the hob the sweetwort simmering hot,
And Furies; and the earth, a labouring fiend,
Bore Cœus, Japetus, Typhœus cursed,
And brothers sworn the barrier'd heaven to burst. 325
Three times they tugg'd to roll, with staggering strain,
Ossa on Pelion, ay, and heave amain
Olympus forest-crown'd. Three times the Sire
Demolish'd with his bolt the mountain spire.
Add seven to ten, and now your luck is full 330
To plant the vine, and tame the captured bull,
To fix the beam, and join the thrum and weft;
The ninth is good for travel, bad for theft.
Moreover many things are better done
In cool of night, or dew of early sun. 335
By night mow thirsty meads and stubble light,
For softening moisture faileth not the night.
And some, until the winter hearth grow dim,
Renew the watch, and shape the torches trim,
While, as her sprightly shuttle hums along, 340
The goodwife cheers their labour with a song,
Mulls on the hob the sweetwort simmering hot,
