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/38

The fields gone frowsy, and the swains impress'd:
The reap-hook forged into the stark sword-blade,
Euphrates here, Germania there array'd! 592
Adjacent cities break their plighted faith,
And o'er the globe ride hellish War and Death.
So four-horsed chariots, at the word to race,
Dash from the bars, and fling themselves on space,
Whirl'd at the horses' will the driver strains,
Full speed they scour, and laugh to scorn the reins.