Page:The Farm and Fruit of Old a translation in verse of the 1st and 2nd Georgics of Virgil, by a market-gardener (1862).djvu/36

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THE FARM AND
Nay, then the very earth and sea cried out,
And carrion hounds and birds we meet to scout.
How oft we saw Etna, with surging thunder, 545
Rend all the Cyclop furnaces asunder,
Foaming and wallowing o'er the fields and flocks,
With globes of fire, and floods of molten rocks!
The clank of arms in heaven Germania heard,
And quaking Alps with strange emotion stirr'd.
A voice tremendous thrill'd the silent wood, 551
And ghastly spectres in the gloaming stood.
Dumb cattle spake; oh, horrible phantasm!
Rivers stand still, the earth yawns in a chasm.
Pale ivory weeps upon the temple sconce, 555
And sweat pours down the images of bronze.
Eridanus, the monarch of the floods,
In ravening eddy whirls uprooted woods,
Wide o'er the plains in weltering wreck he spreads
The cattle-corpses and the cattle-sheds. 560
That year the entrails ceased not to display
Dark presages and fibres of dismay,
The wells to gush with blood; and, ringing deep,
The howl of wolves startled the city's sleep.
Such lightnings ne'er the cloudless heaven amazed,